#how the hell am I supposed to live with this person drawing such beautiful sweet sheith

[naffeclipse]

Naff! Naff! I finally read the last chapter of Song Fish!! Let me just start with saying that I am not normal about this chapter, not at all. There's so many things happening here that make me go INSANE in the BEST WAY!!!

Enjoy my essay!! XD

(Sorry, it gets a little gory at one point)

I HATE (hate-love you know~) how Circus forcefully gives y/n air and then drag them underwater again. She's so insanely cruel. Treating y/n like they're nothing more than a tool. I love how you made her into just a villain. Part of me for some reason thought that she would be some kind of anti-villian who didn't wanna just straight up kill you for personal gain, but man I was so wrong! Djfkfjhfjr

The dread and hopelessness we're immediately thrusted into and have to endure through the first half of the chapter is so well done and sets the tone so well! The glimpses of hope through the living nightmare y/n is going through keeps both y/n and the reader hoping for all this to end, it was hard to breathe sometimes and I could imagine the absolute darkness so vividly.

The absolute terror of being stuck in a sunken ship at the bottom of the sea.. that's the most terrifying place to be. It's like being stranded in space. Y/n really got the iron lung experience huh..

The visual I got whenever Circus was in the air pocket was striking. The way she lights up the entire space and water below in red is terrifying and in ways beautiful. Her giant green eyes have been seared into my mind and retinas somehow, I can visualize them so clearly against the red glow of her body.

Her tentacles snatching up y/n, squeezing and tossing them around in this already claustrophobic space sounds like literal hell and how y/n tries desperately to wipe the slick slime from Circus' tentacles away after she's let them go makes me cry :'0

It's terrifying how she can manipulate and control y/n so easily. Mers have all the control over their humans, knowing that fact makes me melt more over how sweet and caring Sun, Moon and Freddy are (and also Eclipse♥️). Just thinking back to Vanessa now and how Glitch controlled her like a puppet... I'm glad Circus never got that far with y/n..

Freddy saves the day!!! Aw Freddy, he's so sweet c': and oh my god Gregory what the hell are you doing out there with so many broken bones! I appreciate your help immensely but DAMN!!

Oh man and here's the fight! HERE'S THE FIGHT!!!

No no!! It's not fair, Sun stands no chance even when fighting back! Circus is a coward for forcing y/n to tell Sun not to fight,, she has the power to make it easier for herself yes and it's smart of her to use that power, but man it's cruel...

I feel like I say the same thing every time, but the way you write fight scenes between monsters is always so spectacular, bloody and filled with so much anger and heavy emotions. I'm blown away every time!!

When Circus's jaws opened up and her face pealed back I had to stop and celebrate! I'm so happy you kept that terrifying feature of hers and used it exactly like I did with my drawings of her! I'm just over the moon that my weird design turned out to be accurate to the fic! XD

She's terrifying! I love her! And hate her!

The tearing and slashing and biting AAAAA!!!! Oh god poor y/n having to feel what ALL THREE are feeling,,

Thank god for Freddy being there to stop Circus. The glimpses of fright finally being felt from her is SO SATISFYING! She screwed up majorly by messing with this group of mers and humans, and finally she's feeling that regret and fear for what she's brought upon herself.

They tore her head off!!?!!? Absolute BEASTS!!!!

I try to imagine how much that'd hurt but it's impossible. To Circus the pain stopped once her neck broke apart, but for y/n it persists. To feel every nerve snap, the skin tear, muscles rip and spine break and then the fading of consciousness on top of it all. And have all that pain stay after you're supposed to have died from it.. yeah I have no way to describe it and no way of imagining how that must feel. ....I'm not surprised y/n fainted.. though I do believe it was something more than just a faint..

*Deep inhale*

THEM!!!! FISHER AND ECLIPSE!!! IT'S THEM!!!!!!!

Oh I am not normal over our two y/ns meeting each other!! I screamed and cheered and nearly cried I was so happy to see those two again!!!

The way fisher is there to greet y/n and help guide them is PERFECT! And Eclipse being there too in his full glory, his beautiful red and orange colors against the bright white sky and dark star dotted ocean is striking. Absolute eye candy (which is funny to say cause it's writing, but you paint everything up so well so I can visualize it without any problems!)

I love this afterlife, or in-between life and death you've created, it sounds so peaceful and otherworldly.

Excuse me for a second as I scream into my pillow. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA THEY TURNED INTO YOUNG VERSIONS OF THEMSELVES BEFORE THEY LEFT!!!! AAAAAAA MY HEART!!!!! I'M CRYING!!!!!! I love them so much,, fisher and Eclipse are so precious to me and I'm SO HAPPY TO SEE THEM AGAIN!!!

I love how you've tied these two stories together and how one of them even effects the other. I really wanna reread Deep Dreams, it's soon been a whole year since I first read it!

Fisher and mer Eclipse hold a special place in my heart. I'm so happy you brought them back for this conclusion, it's a beautiful conclusion to their story too ♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

I wonder how much Sun and Moon could feel when y/n was under. Could they sense the presence of another great mer near their human or see what y/n was seeing? Or did they feel nothing, nothing at all, and for a moment thought they had lost the person they live for? My brain goes brrrrrrrrrr when I think about it~

They're like cats! Since when were they like cats!? They're licking each other's wounds!! AAAAA SWEETIES!!!

Can I ask again what kind of sailboat this new one is?? Aaaa they're painting it so prettyyyy!!! :'D

YES GO TO THE ABANDONED SHACK!! YEEES FIND THE SEASHELL!!! YEEEEES PUT IT WITH THE OTHERS WHERE IT BELONGS!!!! I'm not normal pdkdjdkd

Naff oh my god!! I loved this so much!!! NAFF I'M RATTLING YOU!!!! Thank you for this wonderful story, I enjoyed it immensely all the way through♥️

I hope you enjoyed my many thoughts pdjddskdj and I hope you're doing well! Remember to take care of yourself a little extra now when you're stretched thin between responsibilities and school stuff. Remember to stretch, hydrate and get plenty of rest~

Until next time I scream in your inbox, take care! I love you! ♥️♥️♥️

Meep, I am enjoying your essay wholeheartedly, you have no idea!!!

Oh my gosh, Y/N is getting the iron lung experience ;-; Too many terrifying situations under the oceans these days!

Yup, that's what poor Vanessa went through! Fisher Y/N thankfully never had to find out what a terrible mer could do with such a bond, but I wanted to explore that concept more, and who better than our fearful little Y/N trying to do their best?

BABE I'M SO HAPPY YOU LIKE THE RETURN OF ECLIPSE AND FISHER Y/N!!! It was one of my favorite scenes to write!

As for what the boys felt when Y/N was gone, it was a stark emptiness. The strict feeling of something needing to be there but wasn't. It was so out of place and terrifying. The boys were truly scared that they had lost their little seashell.

The next sailboat is a sloop as well! Y/N got pretty attached to that type hehe

Ahhh, I'm rattling you in return!!! I'm so glad you'll tell me your thoughts on it and I'm even happier that you enjoyed it all!!!

I'm doing good, thank you! I hope you are, too, and make sure you take it easy on yourself ♥ I love you, too!!!

[ptergwen]

favorite crime

w/c: 1.6k

warnings: swearing, mentions of blood / death, lots n lots of angst

summary: you convince peter to go on the run after he’s framed for murdering mysterio, but he doesn’t want to drag you into his mess

a/n: this was completely based off the song by olivia lfmbsjfhs it’s so beautiful and i’ve wanted to write something for it for a while now so yee i hope y’all like ! pls lmk what you think <3

-

“we have to get you out of here, peter! come on!” you shout back to your boyfriend and tug his hand that’s laced with yours.

peter doesn’t budge. even when your grip on him tightens, when you pull him forward with all your might, he remains stoic.

there’s something he needs to do, and he’s been contemplating it since the day he met you.

it’s time to let you go.

“please, peter. i’m begging. i know you’re tired of running, but if we don’t leave now… they’ll find you,” you desperately choke out. peter squeezes his eyes shut, dreading what’s to come. “i can’t do this to you anymore, y/n. i… i’m sorry.”

emergency sirens and flashing lights approach the old apartment building serving as yours and peter’s latest hideout. the whole world is on the lookout for him, so you two stowed yourselves away in brooklyn for a bit.

you were hopeful the rumors would pass eventually — about how peter shot the beloved mysterio and left him to die in cold blood. they’re merely talk, of course. you’d personally seen the events of that day unfold on the tower bridge. hell, your class was right at the center of them.

quentin beck was pure evil, so rotten he defamed both peter and spider-man with a charge as cruel as murder. he’s wreaking havoc on him from beyond the grave, over a complete misunderstanding that peter had nothing to do with.

beck’s true source of anger is stark industries. yet, once again, peter ended up the collateral damage.

he was deemed a wanted murderer. posters revealing his name and face were plastered up around the city, a reward even being offered to whoever who turns him in.

you’d proposed the idea of skipping town until things settled. the way you saw it, it was peter’s only option other than prison for twenty-five to life. peter was panicking and couldn’t think straight, so he went along with your getaway plan.

a few weeks later, he’s regretting it.

you’ve been the one person he could trust through this madness. you’re right there to console him, to protect him just like he does you. through sickness and health, life and clearly death, you stick by peter’s side. you left everything behind without a second thought, for him.

peter loves you more than you’ll ever fully be able to comprehend, which is why he can’t ask you to do that. this is his battle to fight, not yours or anyone else’s. his.

you suddenly freeze in your tracks, turning around to look at peter. “what are you talking about? you’re fine, pete.”

his eyes roam everywhere except to yours as they water. blinking back tears, he fixes his gaze on your intertwined hands. you notice a stray tear fall down his cheek and use one of your thumbs to wipe it away, then press a reassuring kiss to his lips. peter lets himself reciprocate momentarily before jerking back.

“please just… stop being so nice to me. you’re making this way harder than i wanted to to be,” he rasps and squeezes your hand tighter. you’re still lost, absolutely clueless about what he’s referring to.

“look, pete. i wanna hear you out, baby. but… i think it should wait until we get to jersey.” you keep your voice as calm as possible, though you’re terrified for both of you. since the feds know your location, they’ll have the place surrounded any minute.

hopping cities isn’t cutting it anymore, so you’ll have to change states this time. new jersey is next on your list.

using his strength to his advantage to hold you in place, peter seizes both your shoulders. his bloodshot eyes lock with yours. a stern expression coats his features, one you’ve seen from him yet never been on the receiving end of.

“we’re not going to jersey, y/n/n,” he declares, the sirens starting to grow louder. you feel a pit forming in your stomach. “we have to!” you immediately protest. “it’s not gonna be easy finding our way, but it’s the last-“

peter cuts you off, voice softer now. “no, no. that’s not what i meant.” he waits a beat and inhales a deep breath, aiming to settle his nerves. it doesn’t.

“i’m going to jersey. you’re staying.”

tears cloud your vision the second those words leave his mouth. you shake your head furiously back and forth, willing him to take them back.

part of you was always afraid peter would get second thoughts. not only about running away with you, about ever being with you. you’re both so young. your entire lives are ahead of you, and peter won’t allow you to risk your own because this isn’t worth a single bit of it.

he’d warned you how dangerous it was to be associated with spider-man. it’s why he held off on telling you about his alias for the longest he could. you naturally began asking questions whenever peter bailed on dates and showed up to school covered in bruises. he hated lying to you, using his stark internship as an excuse, so he finally came out and said it.

peter sometimes wonders if you’d be better off not knowing at all. it’s too late now, though.

“wait, what? why- why can’t i go with you?” you plead, peter’s fingers coming up to cup your cheek. his fingertips lightly caress your skin. “i’m a criminal, y/n. you’d be my accessory.”

it takes everything in him not to break down and sob along with you.

you lean into his palm, already missing his touch. “i don’t care... i don’t give a fuck. i just wanna be with you, peter.” peter literally has to bite his tongue to fight the urge to cry. hands grabbing either side of his head, your fingers twist in his hair roughly. “i’ll do anything, pete. i really will, i swear. name it.”

peter threads his own fingers through yours again, bringing your hands to his chest.

“i’m so sorry, angel. i never should’ve gotten you involved,” he murmurs out and pecks your forehead. “you have nothing to prove to me, okay? you’ve done more than enough. i’m gonna return the favor.”

you let out a strangled whine, your knees buckling as you come to terms with the gravity of your situation.

this is it. this is the end of yours and peter’s story.

“hey, none of that. it’s okay,” peter coos, neither of you convinced. the tastes of salt and metal flood both your senses. he helps you back up and hugs your waist, peppering your cheeks in more kisses. you’re bawling now, arms wound around his neck, clutching at his tattered jacket.

free tears escape peter’s eyes at last. “i love you. i love you so goddamn much, y/n. never forget it,” he nearly whispers. you sniffle and push your forehead against his. “i’m not saying it back ‘cuz that feels like a goodbye, and i- i can’t say goodbye to you yet.”

“it’s not a goodbye,” peter reassures you, rubbing circles on your lower back. “it’s, uh, it’s a see you later. i’m gonna figure something out and be back to you before you know it. can’t get rid of me that easy.”

that earns a faint giggle from you, peter managing a grin. you two attempt to ignore everything happening beyond these walls, only focusing on the other.

“then, um…” you clear your throat. “i love you.” his smile dwindling slightly, peter nods and meets your gaze. “i love you too, baby. you should probably get going soon.”

affirming his advice, a booming voice that sounds from a microphone commands peter to come out with his hands up.

your worry spikes, instinctively drawing peter in closer. he forces himself to put on a brave face for you.

“i’m scared, pete. where… where am i supposed to go?” you rush to ask him. “home, y/n/n. go home,” peter decides, pressing a final kiss to the top of your head. “just don’t get caught, and you’ll be fine.” carding your fingers in his undone curls, you sigh. “easier said than done, but i’ll try not to.”

you’d never pictured that the sweet boy with a heart too big and brain even bigger, who sings you to sleep even though his voice sucks and spends his last dollar buying you flowers, would be accused of first degree murder. it isn’t true or fucking fair.

what’s worse, he has to bare this storm alone now.

you lift your heavy backpack off the cold ground, slinging it onto your shoulders. peter stares out the window and down at the assembly of swarm troops crowded together.

“are you gonna be okay?” you catch his attention. he snaps back into reality, pulling your hood up so it covers your head. you’re wearing a sweatshirt of his, after having gone through all your own clothes. “i hope so. are you?” peter repeats your question. “i hope so,” you echo.

tying your hoodie strings tight, peter offers a smile. “say hi to may for me. ned and mj, too.” it’s going to be tough to face his family and friends after this. “i will. i’ll let them know you’re alright.” you kiss his cheek, placing a hand on his chest. peter lets your touch distract him from the mess he’s about to be hit with.

“thank you, y/n. i’ll see you soon, baby. you have my word,” he promises, stepping back so you two can go your separate ways.

you watch him with fresh tears threatening to spill.

“i’m gonna hold you to it. be safe, spidey.”

[beann-e]

inspiration from the tiktok audio “ I don’t love you i’m just passing the time “

This was never about you. Honestly you were surprised it took you so long to notice.

No that was a lie you weren’t surprised because it was his fault he never told you flat out that he wasn’t expecting much from you. It’s not that he wasn’t interested he just — he didn’t know what to do. Of course he thought you were beautiful and that’s what scared him but at the same time gave him the energy to talk to you.

His personality was known for leading him to talk to beautiful people.

He was sure he’d never date you because, his heart belonged to kiyoko .

No one could ever top her or at least that’s what he thought until you came along. Here you were in all your beauty putting anyone else to shame that dared to stand next to you.

You were perfect for him and after a couple months you were all his. He adored you even after highschool when you two finally decided to move in together.

he told you every day how much he loved you. His love even trickling down to his actions when he would ask you to do couple things appearing out of no where with a request

‘ y/n how about black hair dye huh ? wanna try something new together i’ll color my hair too ! ‘

you instantly agreeing to every ask all of them ranging from

‘ hey y/n , have you always been able to see? are you sure because you were squinting just awhile ago we can get you glasses I mean I don’t care about price if it’s for you —no no I think we should—let’s do black square rims ? i think they would fit your pretty face ‘

to

‘ babe when you do your makeup this time try some face designs their so cool I see them all the time on my instagram here — can I try ‘ him smiling before sitting next to you and guiding the eyeliner out of your reluctant hand a tight smile drawn across your face

Him smiling when you turned to the mirror to see a small black dot next to your lips. ‘ you look so pretty with it ‘

You hadn’t noticed until the volleyball reunion when you sat in a circle with all the old members and tsukishimas mouth spilling out his harsh words unbothered by your reaction “ why the hell do we have two kiyokos now? “

his glasses moving down on his nose as he spoke again “ y/n i’m sure we only need one I personally prefer the original she looks more “ his head tilted as his eyes ran over your new look “ natural“

“ yeah I was actually wondering that but I didn’t wanna bring it up first I um y/n are you trying to look like kiyoko or “

your small cough coming out and drawing all the attention back to you as you felt the same woman turn to face you her own eyes now seeing what the others were talking about “ of — of course not I — “

“ eh what the fuck “ your boyfriends voice coming out loudly as he now sat pissed off with the group “ are you pricks trying to say I couldn’t get over kiyoko or some shit “

“ what what no tanaka-san we “ sugawaras voice coming out to try to let the tension fizzle out

“ no because I’m feeling like there’s something being unsaid here“ he grunted “ if anyone has anything else to say badly about my s/o then they should just fuck off “

“ tanaka “ you screamed

“ no i’m tired of people thinking I can’t get shimizu out of my head I can —I can and I will “

“ y-you will ? “

“ I mean I have “ his eyes locked with yours as he spoke low “ I have “

The room grew quiet as he stood the chair he sat in being pushed back as he walked off you standing up too offering a small smile to everyone in the circle “ sorry if you’ll excuse me “

“ your good—I think he needs you a little bit more than we do right now“ daichis voice came out a bit more concerned than he wanted it too

Your figure being seen getting smaller and smaller as you ran after your boyfriend to the kitchen grabbing his arm loosely “ babe I “

“ let go y/n “

“ but I — tanaka what’s up why are you acting like this “

“ I said let the fuck go y/n “ his voice boomed as he yanked his arm from you your body moving back a little due to the strength he’d pulled it back with “ i’m going to go get a drink I can’t handle those assholes alone “

“ your — you’re not alone tanaka i’m with you ill handle them with you “

A smile slowly spreading across your face when he stopped moving only to turn over his shoulder biting his lip as he stood thinking to himself his hand pointing to the kitchen “ for some reason that only makes me need a drink even more “

You nodded softly as he rolled his eyes at you “ you do understand correct ? “

“ yeah yeah no of course “ you smiled tightly as he walked off and you walked back to the crowded living room trying to contain your tears that wanted to spill so badly usually when he acted like this he’d drink himself to sleep.

You sat down on the floor letting yourself join the huddle as everyone spoke you getting lost in your thoughts. It wasn’t often that this happened but when it did it never went the way you would want it to. He would always get distant instead of becoming clingy like you would rather. He’d become meaner with his words instead of thinking of you before speaking like he usually would.

“ prick only ever thinking of himself —a stupid child“ you whispered out thinking of your boyfriend and his future actions that you could already predict

“ yeah shoyos gotta be— the asshole requested it “ kageyama whispered to you as you turned to see hinata sitting across from you waving to you when he met your gaze making you speak softly with a smile “ sweet “

“ hey y/n wanna play dare or dare with us ? “

you shook your head laughing a bit “ what are we teenagers again“ you laughed a bit louder “ but no i’ll — i’ll pass “

“ aw come on your the only other chick here besides kiyoko “

“ no no no you guys go ahead i’ll just watch “

everyone sighed as they began the game you hearing loud steps pound through the house as your boyfriends loud voice cut through the laughter “ what you pricks started without me “

“ yeah uh just join tanaka- san “

“ fuck yeah “ he wobbled over to sit next to daichi not locking eyes with you only smiling at everyone around the table taking a long swig of the liquor bottle he’d sat on the table in his adventure over.

The air that was once tense seemed to calm down as everyone started drinking and suggesting dares. You smiling as you looked at everyone this had to be the best night of your life finally getting to see all your friends again after kageayma and hinata traveled non stop and everyone else never had the time to have a party.

You patted yourself on the back seeing everyone having such a good night.

“ ok ok last dare “ nishinoya burped out as he shakily raised his hand already drunk off his ass his words sluring as he spoke “ I dare tanaka—san to “ he took another gulp from the bottle only to push it aside and open the new one that laid dormant between the two of you “ to kiss the prettiest person in the room “

Everyones eyes widening as they all broke out into a laughing fit “ fucking nishinoyas so stupid “

“ this asshole just wasted a dare on an obvious answer “

hinata rubbing the said males back as his head finally dropped to the table cheek hitting the brown table as he laughed “ ha yeah sure ‘m stupid —real stupid “

he smiled drunkenly laughing at the tables comments “ haha its obviously not that obvious “

Your heart dropped smile only following as you looked from nishinoyas eyes to the scene playing in front of you. Your boyfriends lips locked on another pair that weren’t your own. His hands coming up to the back of her head to push her closer to him as he hungrily pressed his lips onto hers

Her eyes wide as his were closed almost like he was enjoying this “ what “ you whispered out as a rough hand came in contact with tanakas shoulder grabbing it and pulling him back

“ what the fuck you asshole “ tsukishimas voice was threatening as he stared down on the male genuinely confused “ what the hell do you think your doing “

“ hey blondy is that anyway to speak to someone older than you“ he scoffed “ mind your manners child “

“ mind— mind your manners? “ your voice was short and quiet as your eyes darted around the room eyes blinking back the surprise they held as everyone turned to face you only making this deepening pit in your stomach grow.

“ why— tanaka— san why would you do that “

“ what — whatd I do this time suga huh — first it was having a crush on kiyoko everyone was screaming how I wouldn’t get her ha “ he scoffed “ fucking assholes were right so here I am with a fucking backup “

He shook his head as he leaned it back to stare up at the ceiling “ shitty arts and crafts project of building her because I couldn’t have the original — fucking sad “

your heart broke “ sitting here pretending kissing y/n is the same as kissing kiyoko — hell I didn’t even wanna kiss y/n right now i wanted to kiss kiy— “

“ shitty asshole you just did “ tsukishimas voice raised his eyes holding the anger you couldn’t even hold for yourself “ you just did right in front of your s/o “

“ well with them looking the same how the fuck was I suppose to tell “ he laughed “ that’s what you said earlier right ? so what’s so wrong with me enforcing it ? “ he scoffed “ everyone already believed it right so why the fuck does it matter they look the same, act the same , talk the fucking same so in the end I kissed y/n right— ha “

your body hurt just like your heart and your brain was spinning “ why would you — why would you date me tanaka if you didn’t want me “

“ did it look like I was gonna get kiyoko anytime soon — your a ditz — the whole time i’m doing this to get over her and you just became her “

you sat silently blinking back the tears that you held throat holding a sob that wanted to make its way out “ get the fuck out “

“ excuse m—”

“ GET THE FUCK OUT “ you screamed your tears disappearing and turning into anger “ get out get out get out “ you screamed hands reaching out to punch him over the table as you repeated the phrase

“ ok— ok stop stop “

“ no no no get the fuck out I paid for this I paid I paid “ you screaming like a child throwing a tantrum in a supermarket him only moving to stand and walk to the bedroom drunkenly to grab his clothes “ just let me grab my stuff i’ll be out of your hair for the night “

you raged as he made his way into your once shared bedroom forgetting the living room full of people as you ran after him to rip the clothes out of his hand that he held. All the items you’d bought with your hard earned money. The shoes you’d spent over 50$ on for his birthday in his hand along with the limited edition shirt you’d bought for him after he begged for it screaming that was his favorite player.

The items that you’d stayed up four hours for the night of just to buy it for him with your paycheck that week. Your thoughts only making you more upset when you thought back to everything you’d done for the male and the stuff he’d done for y—

he’d done absolutely nothing for you in this whole relationship and this only pissed you off more at the thought

Your heart broke again when you noticed you were already screaming at him again “ get the hell out “

“ i’m going fuck y/n “

“ go faster asshole “

“ what so no clothes ? “ he laughed “ come on that’s pretty harsh —baby it’s cold out give me a jacket or something at least until morning when I come back home “

“ morning “ you scoffed “ you’ll need a jacket for awhile tanaka because your not coming back in my house so freeze your ass off out there or go with your high school crush and her husband “

His once smiling face turning into an angry one as he stepped closer to you the alcohol spilling from his breath and onto your face as he stared down at you “ the fuck are you bringing that up for “

“ your the one who went around kissing a married woman “ you were gonna rub this all in his face. You couldn’t wait until kiyokos husband beat up the drunken deadbeat in front of you.

“I thought it was you “

“ yeah sure after you gave me a makeover to look like her i’m sure you did tanaka “

“ so fucking ungrateful “

“ oh now i’m ungrateful “

“ yeah you are “ his voice got louder as he pointed between you and him “ I made you into the woman I love — the perfect woman you should be on your knees thanking me right now “

“ aw should I “ you sighed “ god what’s wrong with me “

“ exactly now give me my stuff back i’m going to bed this is fucking with my head ’m drunk and I wanna bask in it for a minute — maybe forget you just tried to kick me out so I don’t get on your ass in the morning “

“ yeah of course babe you need your rest “ you nodded as he walked towards your door to pick up where you’d thrown his clothes only for you run and jump on his back arms wrapping around his neck your legs wrapping around his torso “ i’m gonna kill you— you asshole “

“ what the fuck “

“ then i’m gonna lock your body in my fucking freezer or even have daichi fake an arrest you prick— you’ve made my life a living hell — and now you wanna sleep— in my house “

You weren’t sure how he ended up leaving all you knew is that your heart seriously broke when you finally locked the door and rested your forehead against it. Tears spilling from your eyes for the first time that night. You’d gone crazy you had to have because just a few hours ago you almost choked the male to death after jumping on his back like a pro wrestler you were really going crazy

Your body relaxed as you felt a warmth make it’s way over to you only for it to tense when a familiar hand caressed your back and tried to lift your upper body up and away from the floor you’d fell onto sometime that night “ come on y/n —at least let me help you to the couch “ a sigh made it’s way through the house “ I promise you can wallow in your shitty tear soaked shirt after I make sure your comfortable and not hurting “

a cough quickly followed “ physically that is — this shits gotta hurt emotionally “

Your words coming out in a slurred whine like a child “ but it’s dirty — it needs to be cleaned “

“ would I tell you to go sit down if it wasn’t “ he spit back as he finally got you to fall into his chest after leading you over to the couch turning off the hallway light and leaving the lamp next to the couch on.

Him sighing out and shifting uncomfortably as you cried into his shirt causing him to need to distract himself from the crying woman in his arms. How the hell did he end up the nice one in this situation

Why did he push everyone out the house? He could’ve left hell he could’ve copied nishinoya and stolen the leftover four liquor bottles you had laid out on the table before everything happened

he wasn’t a comforting person so why would he shoo everyone else that could’ve helped you away?

he scoffed as he tried to fiddle with his sleeves only to take off his glasses and clean them over and over again

“ how many times are you gonna clean them “ you sniffled into his chest

“ until you finish acting like a baby — I feel like I have a kid ? Like i’m a parent I mean what do parents do” his hand softly came down on your head to pet your hair softly unsure why to do in this situation “ I uh— do you want warm milk ? chocolate or strawberry or is it my baby’s bedtime ? “

“ shut up tsuki “ he laughed as he felt you snuggle up closer to him “ so why are you — of all people —the only one that stayed everyone else must think i’m crazy or something “

“ eh I mean they already thought you were we were making bets before we walked in here on what you’d changed this time to look like kiyoko “

you slapping his arm softly before laughing “ god do I really look like her “

His once stoic face grew sad as his eyes ran over your facial features his eyebrows furrowing as he looked down on you “ yeah — yeah you really do — that crazy asshole “ he shook his head hand reaching out to touch your hair again feeling how burned it was from constantly flat ironing it and curling it like tanaka wanted “ god what did he do to you “

“ build a y/n “ you laughed as he stood up his own words following quickly after yours “ come on “

“ what “ you said as you stared at his open outstretched hand “ what’s going on “

“ let’s go “ you shook your head no “ look do you wanna change back or no “

You swallowed the lump in your throat before nodding slowly and taking his hand to travel with him to the bathroom. Him speaking to you softly only loud enough for you to try and figure out some of the words you couldn’t.

“ for some reason I miss old y/n — and I guess I wouldn’t mind seeing em’ again preferably across the table from me in a booth at 2:30 saturday with strawberry cake in front us? “

[sepublic]

Through the Looking Glass Ruins!!!!!

         …

         SO! Onto other things first…

         WRATH IS BRAXAS’ FATHER!??!!? HOLY SHIT, Wrath is a canonical dad, I’d always expressed my… OH MY GOD WRATH IS DAD! And of BRAXAS, that sweetie… How is Braxas such a sweetie with a father like HIM, also-

         Wrath was in casual wear? Either he has a day off, or he got fired by Belos/Kikimora after drawing Luz a map to Eda in Young Blood, Old Souls! Either way this guy has a sudden new level of NUANCE that I am reeling from, and yes I checked, that really is Wrath according to the credits! Dang this puts everything in a WHOLE new light…!

         AMITY HAIR OHMIGOD IT LOOKS SO ADORABLE SHE’S SELF-ACTUALIZING I AM FUCKING SCREAMING HOLY SHIT OH MY GOD!!! OH MY GOD OH MY GOD, it’s PINK and not green… They acknowledged it, Emira did! And they CHANGED IT I AM LOSING MY FUCKING MIND OVER THIS-

         She looks so BEAUTIFUL and I love the kind of foreshadowing with the bookends of our first shot of Amity having her hair down, and now it’s changed! And she looks adorable and EMIRA AND EDRIC BEING GREAT SIBLINGS I LOVE IT SO MUCH! This… THIS is everything I wanted! I was resigned to not much of them but HELL YEAH they’re being good siblings and we get a look at their rooms, we see them doing MAKEOVERS together this is everything from my favorite fanon content and MORE,

         Also Edric has a date?! Emira says ‘their’ mom… Unless the Golden Guard has a mom, DARN! Not gonna lie, I half-expected a big twist at the end that Edric was dating the Golden Guard, who was doing some sort of reconnaissance as his unrecognized normal self and/or screwing around with the Blights even further, but in a GENUINE sense… But then who knows Kikimora could be posing as GG’s ‘mom’, this is a stretch anyhow-

         JUST HELL YEAH Blight Twins! Blight Twins being sweet and mischievous and supportive of each other, Blight SIBLINGS being siblings, Emira being an older sister and giving advice! And AMITY, Amity mentioning how much Luz has changed stuff, I love that they acknowledge it openly how her life has completely shifted, and now… NOW…!

         No necklace! Red leggings! PINK HAIR?! Is this why Amity in the intro hasn’t been updated yet… She was getting TWO updates, so the animators decided to only animate a change after this final update?!

         King and Gus are also friends it seems, and they even recorded some fun together! I’m surprised at how much Bria and the others mock Gus’ illusion skills… Obviously Belos is kinda terrible but like; I don’t think he’d set aside an entire subset of magic into Illusions without reason! Also that nightmare trip… I LOVE IT, I love Gus applying the creativity of illusions in their ability to completely warp and distort someone’s sense of reality! And I called that dragon-thing being an illusion!

         A graveyard… I wonder if the Gallderstones (is that how it’s spelled) have any relevance or if they’re just neat? I hope Mattholomule and Gus help hide the Looking Glass Graveyard… Damn, that’s another Death reference with Gus, huh! Is it culminating in his respect for the dead, or will it continue further with Gus being a necromancer, or an Oracle who can commune with the deceased, and he has their respect as someone who treats them properly?!

         Also not to get dark but… What if all those Illusionists are dead because of Belos? I’m JUST SAYING…! And not gonna lie, every time someone insulted Illusions, I kept imagining the Illusion Head just suddenly waking up and feeling like there’s a disturbance in the force, as well as a weird compulsion to beat up some Glandus kids. It’d be even funnier if he had beef with the Construction, Plant, and Abomination Heads as well!

         Speaking of which, more confirmation on Construction Magic being related to earth! Glad to see Bria give us a look into that, which furthers my idea of Belos using construction magic… Also dang, Bria and the Glandus Kids really are the parallels/foils to the Detention kids! You’ve got the short ‘nice’ girl, the tall lanky kid, the furry… But the Glandus Kids start off looking nice and cool, but turn out to be rather nasty!

         Meanwhile the Detention Kids seem like bad news and delinquents, but no! They’re just demonized and actually very kind and chill! The Detention Kids are looked down upon, the Glandus Kids are appraised… The Detention Kids are dual-track, the Glandus Kids are singular; Glandus Kids from, well, GLANDUS, Detention Kids from Hexside… One’s ‘mischief’ is actually very neat and cool, the other’s is literal grave robbing.

         I guess that’s how the bleeding statues got past the censors- It’s technically just an illusion! Also more insight into how Glandus works with its Survival of the Fittest mentality, I wonder if we’ll get confirmation on which coven heads came from there, how that might influence them as adults…

         What is Glandus like, is it more whole-heartedly accepting of Belos’ rule, hence its harsh ideals? Was it made after Hexside? Does Bump hate it for being so cruel like that, or is it just school bias? And dang poor Mattholomule, I always had a feeling he sort of felt and knew that he wasn’t much, so he accepted and compensated by deliberately doing whatever he can for power…

         They confirmed he’s from Glandus, and I appreciate this new look at him! This new leaf turned… Hot take but he’s honestly not as bad as Boscha, his stint with Gus was a one-time thing that Gus was able to live with! And that seems pretty good to set them up as friends! Speaking of Boscha, Willow was injured by pixies? And the last time we heard of pixies, they belonged to Boscha and caused the school to get shut down… Did BOSCHA DO THIS I SWEAR SHE IS DEAD TO ME-

         (Also she’s mentioned in the credits for this episode but I don’t remember hearing her? I might’ve gotten distracted with so much other things.)

         Gus! I like the insight into his relationship with Illusions, and I appreciate how he’s considering other forms of magic… But this hesitation might just serve to reaffirm his believe in Illusions, which is okay! It’s all about choice… And yeah, it seems Gus also has a case of impostor syndrome like King, no wonder they get along so well! I love the glimpses into Gus’ house and the confirmation that he has a library card, no Perry though alas…!

         I appreciate how Gus feels overlooked, like he has no real substance, which is how his Illusions reflect a desire to draw attention, but also the idea that there’s nothing real beneath them… Again, very much like King! And Gus, he’s not a powerhouse like the rest, he’s SKILLED and smart, but strength isn’t his forte, it’s not brute force he operates on, but cleverness! Trickery, I like it…! It’s a nice callback to his last A-plot episode, SVSF, where instead of fighting Mattholomule physically, Gus’ solution is to think outside the box and pull the alarm!

         You go kid, not relying on brute strength but showing that some clever tricks and thinking are just as valid! Kinda wonder if this episode is lowkey a discussion on masculinity for young boys, especially with Gus growing older with puberty, though the latter is mostly because his actual VA grew… But maybe the writers rolled with that and incorporated it, or it’s just a very neat coincidence! Also, it is me or did Mattholomule’s voice change? And the gag that Gavin’s dad looks identical to him, even moreso because he’s NOT supposed to have a moustache… That’s great!

         Malphas! Love this reference to a classic demon, I wasn’t sure if Malphas was the librarian with glasses whom I’ve always headcanoned as a father figure to Amity… But maybe it’s actually this bird dude! He seems adept in Bard magic, and I love the reveal of his true crow appearance… Guess those theorists were right that the one-eyed figure is from the Forbidden Stacks! Also Malphas NOT COOL with Amity, but I’m glad Luz changed his mind, and I wonder how that adventure looked…

         Which- DAMN, the RSD with Luz! She looks so UTTERLY BROKEN when Amity mentions doing stupid things, and she didn’t mean it like that, but Luz just looks so completely shattered and you can tell she wants to cry but instead she bottles it up and tries to take it in stride, and that plays into her trying to overcompensate for her mistakes AGAIN… SOMEONE GET IT TO HER HEAD that she doesn’t need to! I’m scared for Luz, and I was SO scared this episode would end on a bad note…

         BUT DOAHLDdFAEONDKFHN LUMITY KISS LUMITY KISS! ONE-SIDED BUT THEY FINALLY FUCKING KNOW AND AMITY IS LIKE WHAAAAT AND I WAS WAITING FOR IT AND I COULD FEEL IT HAPPEN AND GAY KISS! GAY KISS ON-SCREEN!!! And the way Luz just FLOPS to the ground on her knees AAHJJFFKHGGK and no Alador nor Odalia to ruin this, UTTERLY PERFECT and the twins WATCHING OOOHHHHGGGG YYYEEAAAAHHH-

         This is EVERYTHING I ever wanted!

         What an AMAZING episode with wonderful characer beats and reveals! Again, Amity’s growth as a character, that brief insight into how Luz as a person is very chaotic and sometimes frustrating for Amity and forces her to reevaluate, but ultimately it’s good and Luz DOES try her best, and Amity clearly wanted to make things up for Luz and apologize, they’re BOTH doing things, just the little moments!

         Also, Alex Lawther voices Philip Wittebane! He has long hair and a vaguely british accent, he’s… He’s Belos isn’t he? And they got a new VA because having him voiced by Matthew Rhys would be really spoiler-y right? He’s got the long hair and he’s a nerd… And with how he talks of finding a way back home, maybe Belos really DOES just want to return home, after all? He talks of making a way back home…

         And we see a glimpse of the Portal, so it might’ve brought him there? Or did Philip succeed in making it, and that was his blueprint designs? Did he arrive by Titan’s Blood? What happened to the portal if it brought him there, or if he made it? Why the scar, why near Eda’s house, partially buried?

         Was it lost before he could finish his work, and Philip got side-tracked into something else… Perhaps going on a crusade, on behalf of a curse/demon that possessed him? A demon that killed King’s father…? Was the portal broken and he had to discard it, but then it naturally healed- Or did it just need to recharge, maybe Philip DID make it back home, WHAT IS THE ANSWER?! Is there some sort of doppelganger for Philip, is BELOS his doppelganger?! What is THIS WHAT-

         WHAT AN EPISODE!

[uwurakax]

boy, i hate you ♡

pairing: akaashi x reader ♡

genre: angst // cheating // suggestive (not explicit) ♡

summary: you swore to yourself that you’d never stay with a cheater, so why was it so hard to let go? ♡

♡ the sequel “boy, i need you” - read the second part here ♡

word count: 1.9k ♡

author’s note: ok this has been in my mind for ages now and i need this to go into the universe. i haven’t written in years so i am crappy rusty as hell (pls be kind ty). i don’t normally write but i had to. i also believe theres no gender mentioned? (it’s like 4am and i’ve had zero sleep so pls), but i suppose it leans to f!reader. i’ll regret uploading this later haha 🤟😭 also hasn’t been proofread and i wrote this at like 1am (excuses for my terrible writing yup, don’t judge me haha) ♡

♡ (inspired by f.u by little mix) ♡

infidelity

/ɪnfɪˈdɛlɪti/

noun

1. the action or state of being unfaithful to a spouse or partner

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, with your eyes red and wet was not an uncommon occurrence. You supposed at one point, it was, but those days felt like a distant dream. You had cried so much, it was a wonder you could keep up the waterworks. Your eyes were swollen, bloodshot and dry. The moisture had left them and were spilled, half dry, on your cheeks. 

It was pathetic. So pathetic how you could keep putting yourself through this. Day after day, breakdown after breakdown, you didn’t know how much more you could take. You quickly wiped away any more stray tears with the sleeve of the hoodie you were wearing.  His hoodie. 

You wondered how much liquid had been soaked up by his clothes. An ironic display of him comforting you indirectly when he was the one who caused those tears to spill in the first place.

You took a deep inhale and leaned over the porcelain countertop. It felt wrong. It felt awkward. It felt..dirty. You gripped the sides of the counter. You couldn’t pinpoint exactly where it all went wrong, it was just like it happened. Or maybe it didn’t, and it was there long before you had taken notice of the signs. 

All you knew was that suddenly, he wasn’t yours anymore. The home you shared with him wasn’t yours. Hell, even this goddamn pristine white bathroom wasn’t yours. For the past year or so, it was slowly losing the essence of you and him, and somehow converged into a you, him and her. You wondered if it just lost your sense entirely and had become his and hers - you being just a warm body that filled the cold space when he was gone, whether that be at work or when he had to take a ‘trip’. 

You were so sick of it. All the insecurity of when it started, why weren’t you enough, how’d it happen, and all those basic questions associated with a partner cheating were bubbling up inside of you. 

You wanted to push all the blame on him. You wanted to hate him, despise him for reducing you to the pathetic crying mess you were now, but you couldn’t. You knew, deep down inside, at some point it stopped being entirely his fault and that it shifted to you as well. Was it a week after you found out? A month? 3 months? 6 months? A year? Did it even matter anymore? You knew you had to stop this. You had to break it off with Akaashi. His unfaithfulness hurt you in a way that you couldn’t possibly imagine. You couldn’t keep living with the fact that he’d come home into your arms, holding you in the same way that he had just held somebody else. Somebody not you. Somebody who wasn’t his girlfriend. Geez, just how many times were you going to repeat that to yourself? You’d lost count on how many speeches and psych up’s that frequented your mind. 

This will be the last time. 

A silent promise to yourself, that this would be the end. That you’d finally pick yourself up, and gain some self confidence to just rip off that bandaid. No matter how much you loved him, no matter how long you had loved him, you had to do this for your sake. With a firm nod, you braced yourself, ready to finally free yourself from the love that was Akaashi Keiji. 

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

It had been a few hours since your breakdown in the bathroom happened. You were anticipating Akaashi’s arrival for the past hour or so. You knew exactly why he was late, it didn’t take a genius to know that he was with her. You wished that just for tonight, he wouldn’t. The suspense was suffocating. You just wanted to get this over and done with.

Not even the soft material of the pillows on the lounge you sat on calmed you. You absentmindedly ran your fingers through the plush texture, hoping to quell the dread and unease steadily rising with each passing moment that Akaashi didn’t enter through the front door. After what felt like forever, you finally heard his car coming into the driveway, the headlights peeking through the blinds. You closed your eyes and took in a deep breath. It did little to slow your racing heartbeat. You got up to greet him when the jingle of his keys echoed through the silent space that was ‘your home’, as he had put it the first time you entered into the building. Thats all it was to you now. A mix of brick and cement that no longer held the warmth that it once had, or perhaps it still did. Maybe that radiating glow just wasn’t for you anymore. 

“Keiji..”

“Hello my love” he was quick, or you were just too slow. Either way, his arms had found their way around you, pulling you close into his body. You couldn’t deny that your own craved his, fitting just a little too well, like jigsaw puzzle pieces. At one point it was relieving. At one point it would have brought you immense comfort. 

At one point it would have felt right. 

However at this moment in time, it didn’t. Maybe for a split second, you could’ve deluded yourself into thinking he was only yours, and you were only his. That sense of peace was gone in an instant when you smelt the pungent perfume of her on him. It clung to him desperately, and would soon dissipate throughout the house. The sickly sweet floral smell invading whatever little nook and cranny it could. Pushing out the fresh air.

Pushing out you.

It just further pressed the need to end things with him. Neither of you were happy in your relationship now.

For your sake and for his, you needed to do this quickly. 

You pulled away from him, hands on his chest. You had to force yourself to look at his face. It was time, you needed that bandaid off now. But when you searched his profile, you couldn’t see any other emotion but pure admiration.

Pure love.

Your breath hitched. Though it was when his hands made their way up to cup your cheeks that your body lost all rationality. Your heart now pumping quickly and loudly for a completely different reason. He slowly leaned in close and you instinctively closed your eyes. Soon enough, his lips were against yours. Soft you thought to yourself, but you could taste it. The underlying taste of something sweet. It was artificial, and definitely not Akaashi. 

God it hurt. It hurt, unbelievably so. 

His hands moved down and rested on your hips, fingers digging in ever so slightly. You both parted from each other, and this time, you decided to look into his eyes.

Gunmetal Blue.

It perfectly matched his beautiful face, and you knew you could get lost just staring into them. It honestly wasn’t fair how easily everything about him could just draw you in.

But you hated how he looked at you now. Like you held the stars in his sky. Like you were the most important person to him. It could almost make you sick, the gaze he had on you. How could he look at you like this? How could he touch you like that? How could he kiss you with such furore when he was just with somebody else, doing the exact same things that he was doing to you?

It just hurt. You never even got a chance to voice your thoughts on his infidelity, on the other woman, on anything. Because soon enough you found yourself led into the bedroom. Had he made love with that woman on the very bed you shared with him? There’s no way you could fool yourself into thinking that that space was sacred anymore. The sheets, the pillows, the mattress. All of it had been tainted. Much like everything else on this house. Contaminated with her touch when you were away and he had to stay home. Everywhere. Every surface, every room, hell every inch just had a lingering scent of her. 

Disgusting. Filthy. Soiled.

All those thoughts were washed away when Akaashi pulled you into the bed. Clothes now discarded haphazardly on the floor, easily forgotten. He gently brushed stray hairs away from your face and just observed you for a moment. He watched you with a smile, and you could reminisce back on your high school days. How was it that Akaashi Keiji, the sweet, shy and most amazing guy was doing something so horrible behind your back? You couldn’t understand. He was such a gentleman, so respectful and kind. So how? How could he do it so easily. 

He pulled you in, lips connecting once again. You knew it was wrong. To fall back into him would just lead you back into the spiral of pain and heartbreak. And yet, here you were, doing that exact thing. 

Because when he looked at you in that regard, when he touched you in the way that set your body ablaze, when he kissed you with such emotion and love, you could pretend that, just for a short period of time, that it was all just for you and only you. You could forget about the other woman. Could forget about all the thoughts of all the things he’d do with her. Forget the marks that he left on her, the same way he did you. 

You’d think of the consequences later, like you always did, because during these moments was when your heart didn’t ache so much, and you didn’t need to be left with your own intrusive thoughts. Here, like this, right now, you could just be two people together. Pretend that he did love you unconditionally.

Pretend that everything was okay. 

You knew tomorrow you’d regret it. Wake up in his arms and sob about how much of a coward you were to walk away. 

This will be the last time.

How many times had you repeated that phrase only to continue this toxic cycle? It wasn’t the first time, and it wouldn’t be the last. You hated Akaashi, but you hated yourself more, because you knew that you’d always lose yourself to him. Like a puppet master with the strings, you were pushed and pulled to his desire. 

You now lay in bed, with the covers over you both, and his hand rubbing a soothing trail up and down your arm. You wondered if this would’ve been a good time to do it. To cut your loses and go.

But..

Akaashi scooted over towards you, his hand now finding its way behind your head. His own now angled to press a delicate kiss on your forehead. You shut your eyes, willing the tears to not show. 

“I love you”

..you could never do it.

With a small, sad smile (hoping that the darkness of the night shielded the pain from him), you whispered the words that contradicted everything you had been feeling.

“I love you too”

It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. You knew tomorrow you’d go through the same process. You knew you’d feel the same anger, frustration and ache. Knew that you’d put on one of his shirts or hoodies on for any sense of comfort. Knew that you’d cry and get lost in your thoughts. Knew that you’d swear that this was the last time this would ever happen. 

And deep down, you knew that you’d never really do it, because you’d fall right back into loving Akaashi Keiji again, just like all those times before.

[from-seas-to-skies]

Farm Grown / Hawks x Reader ♕︎

uwu, I had the lovely @weirddpand4 draw this picture of cowboy Hawks for this work!!!

warnings: NSFW, spanking, cream pie

words: 4,802

-

“Oh, wow! Look at that! I’ve never seen grass so green before!” your friend, Urakaka Ochaco, exclaims.

Glancing up from your phone, you follow her line of vision; gracious hills of rich green grass stretch out far into the horizon, meeting with the brilliant shade of blue. It’s so unlike the skyscrapers and closely-knit houses you’re used to seeing. No, this is what pure beauty looks like, Mother Nature in one of her most wonderful forms. Although the fields are dotted with wildflowers and corn fields, you don’t miss the dirt road further up ahead, a large wooden sign planted next to it.

When Ochaco originally came to you with the idea of being a farmhand, you thought she was crazy. You’ve finally graduated from high school, got the title of professional hero, and this is the first thing she wanted to do? However, as she further explained, it was a family friend who needed help during the summer months, and what were heroes for? Granted, you wanted to run around the cement jungle and provide help that way, but this “almost vacation” didn’t sound too bad – plus, with the puppy eyes Ochaco flashed at you, it was impossible to say no.

And so, here you are, sitting in the passenger side of a coupe with Ochaco behind the wheel. You have to admit; the surrounding atmosphere is beautiful, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to run barefoot through the grass. Clouds of dust rise as the car eventually comes to a stop outside of a weathered farmhouse. Ochako flashes you a smile, her large eyes twinkling.

“Look at how huge this place is! I know Uncle Iroh said he had a couple people helping out, but this is incredible! We’ll each have our own room!”

You can’t help but smile at her enthusiasm. Ochaco’s always been easy to rile up, and the fact that she’s genuinely excited to spend quality “bonding time” with you is heartwarming. As the two of you step out of the car, the front door to the farmhouse opens, revealing an elderly man with a long beard and a kind expression. His face cracks into a smile when he and Ochaco make eye contact; the two hurry towards each other, warm greetings and bone-crushing hugs being shared between the two. It’s no wonder Ochaco was so excited to spend the summer here; with a relationship like that, you’d be happy to see the man too.

“Oh, come, come!” Iroh says, hurrying around the car and popping the trunk open. “You must be Ochaco’s friend, yes?” he asks, looking towards you. A wave of pleasant warmth washes over your being as he sends you that charming smile. “I appreciate the help! I only have my nephew and another man working here already, but the extra hands will come in handy.” He pauses then to chuckle at his own joke. “But I think it’s about you two get settled, yeah?”

“Right!” you respond, pulling out your own suitcase.

As you walk up towards the wraparound porch, you glance to the other trucks sitting out in front of the farmhouse. Iroh said two others were already here, so you figured the trucks must be theirs…

“Zuko!” Iroh booms. “Our guests are here!”

After a moment or so, a boy around your age staggers from the kitchen, a tray in his hands. From the looks of it, a teapot and some cups line its surface.

“Tea is our specialty, here,” Iroh says, nudging you with your shoulder. “Get something to drink and then we’ll show you your rooms.”

-

Later on that evening, you’re gazing out your window, watching the sun fall. Hues of orange, peach, and lilac paint the sky, bidding the world goodbye for the night. It’s definitely different to experience it here than back home, back where silhouettes were outlined by the golden glow. A steady breeze carries on, carrying the scent of wildflowers and musk; your curtains flap from the sheer force of it, but you pay it no mind. It’s like Ochaco brought you to a slice of paradise, even if it’s with the intention of putting in labor.

In the distance, you hear calls and the distinguished moos of cows. Shifting your gaze, you catch a herd of cows being moved towards a barn; a man riding a brown horse wrangles them in, a border collie by his side. The way he pulls it off is smooth, and it’s clear that he’s used to pulling such a feat. However, what really catches your attention is the pair of magnificent scarlet wings protruding from his back. Now, you’re used to seeing some rather flashy quirks, but this guy’s is just… Wow.

“Hey, Uncle Iroh wanted me to come get you,” Ochaco’s voice says suddenly. Turning around, you see her standing in the doorway, a pleasant expression playing on her face. “We’re having oyakodon for dinner! Doesn’t a hot meal sound delicious?” And, as if to amp up your spirits, Ochaco licks her lips and pats her tummy. “I’m so hungry from a long drive!”

You huff in amusement. “Yeah, I am too.” Turning around, you catch a glimpse of the cows disappearing into the barn, that mysterious cowboy stationed by the doors. “Hey, Ochaco,” you start before realizing it, “but who’s that other guy that lives here? The one with the wings?”

Walking over to where you stand, Ochaco peers out the window, following your line of sight. “Oh, him? That’s Keigo. Uncle Iroh says he’s only been here for the past year or so, but he’s really good at what he does! I heard all the animals like him a lot – maybe it’s because of the wings?”

“Don’t you think it’s… odd that’s only a farmhand? With a quirk like that, you’d think he’d be doing something else.”

Ochaco shrugs. “I dunno. Maybe you should ask him sometime? Oh, but I’m really hungry! Can we go eat, now?”

“Yeah, sorry, I just got distracted…”

And so, you soon find yourself sitting at a sturdy wooden table, a bowl of oyakodon sitting before you. It smells utterly delicious - and paired with the tea Iroh brewed, you know you’re in for a treat. Just then, you hear a door opening and closing; there’s a chatter of some sorts, but then there he is, right there in the flesh.

Strong build, wide shoulders, blond hair that looks permanently tousled, and oh yes, those magnificent wings. Perhaps you shouldn’t be staring so much, but the sharp line of his jaw and intense eyes make it nearly impossible to look away. You’ve heard of such things, read about them in stories, but maybe, just maybe, you might’ve fallen for the guy at first sight. That, or he’s just too damn attractive for his own good.

“Howdy! Oh, shit, who are these two cuties?”

Or maybe not.

“Oi! Keigo! Can’t you be respectful for once in your life?” Iroh barks, popping around the other. He scowls as he slaps a wing out of his way. “Make a good impression for yourself. These two are going to be here for the rest of the summer, so don’t be an ass.”

“C’mon, gramps,” Keigo drawls, “you know I’m better than that. Plus, if they don’t like my attitude, then it’s not really my fault, huh?”

“Nothing ever changes,” Zuko says lowly, his words followed by a deep sigh.

You and Ochaco share a look. It seems like your Prince Charming is nothing more than a sarcastic asshat. How befitting.

“Liven up, birdies,” Keigo says, sliding into the chair directly across from you. “I don’t bite.” He winks at you. “Yet.”

Your entire body jolts at his proclamation. This guy really is shameless, isn’t he? Still, you can’t help but feel undeniably attracted to him. Curse his charisma, dammit.

“Aw, sweet! Is this oyakodon? Hell yeah.”

To the side, Zuko facepalms. Iroh merely chuckles and shakes his head, much like he’s way too used to this kind of behavior and has accepted it as it is. Hell, even Ochako cracks a smile. You, on the other hand, stare at Keigo in confusion. He has a bird-based quirk, doesn’t he? Does it not bother him to not eat chicken…?

Keigo puts up a hand, an amused glint in his eyes. “Look, I already know what you’re gonna ask, kid. I can practically see the gears spinning in that pretty head of yours. I fucking love chicken.”

Oh… Well, that takes care of that, doesn’t it…

-

After that first fateful encounter, you’ve grown used to Keigo’s ways. It’s funny, though, how he and Zuko’s personalities basically sit on either end of the spectrum, yet Iroh treats the both of them like they’re his children. While Zuko is serious and straight-laced, Keigo is more of a chatty free spirit. That said, you’ve also gotten used to Keigo’s flirty side. You suspect it’s because he likes to get a rise out of everyone. Whether that’s the case or not, your eyes often wander after him, stare down the hard lines of his back. Even better, you itch to trail your lips over the scruff lining his jaw. The guy’s too damn hot and he knows it.

Over the past month, a game of cat and mouse has started between the two of you. Him, trying to act all chummy and overstepping numerous boundaries. You, trying not to give into the weird relationship that’s bloomed between you and him. Sure, you might have flirted back, but what were you supposed to do? After all, Keigo’s proved himself to be a rather cool guy.

“You can’t keep spacing out like that, kid,” Keigo says, snapping you from your thoughts. Glancing down at him, you attempt to suppress your embarrassment, but Keigo’s too smart for that. Despite his relaxed attitude, he’s surprisingly intelligent and quite observant.

Hands tightening around the saddle, you scoff. “I wasn’t spacing out…”

Keigo cocks an eyebrow. “You know, if I wasn’t holding onto the reins, Nugget would’ve bucked you off a long time ago.”

This time, you snicker. You know that he has an undying love for chicken, but every time he refers to his horse as Nugget, you can’t help but laugh. This guy really is like a child.

“Pffft. Laugh all you want, birdie. If there’s one thing I know how to do, it’s how to ride.” Narrowing his eyes, he flashes you a sultry look. “If you want, I can show you.”

All laughter dies on your tongue. A spark of heat erupts in your stomach, makes your heart thump against your ribcage. He always manages to fluster you, to plant naughty little thoughts into your head. You swallow thickly. “I think… I think I’ll stick with Nugget for now.”

At that, Keigo shrugs, his expression turning into something more nonchalant. “Suit yourself. Seriously, though; you should always keep your focus while riding a horse. Anything can happen, and you’ll only know you’re fucked until you’re being crushed. Better yet, you’re flying overhead and end up snapping your neck. Hate to break it to you, but you don’t have wings to break your fall.”

“Keigo.”

He looks back up at you. “What?”

“Your wings. It’s just that… Well… Why help out on farm?”

Keigo blinks at you, no words slipping out. “Hah? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Shit,” you say quickly, mentally cursing yourself out, “that’s not what I meant. You can fly, can’t you? It just seems like you could’ve made a name for yourself…”

“And become a hero, right?” You wince at his words. He hit the nail right on the head. “Heh. Yeah, I guess you’re right. I could spew a whole bunch of shit from my mouth and call it a day, but that’s not my style. I’m a hero in my own right.”

You furrow your brows. Remaining silent, you wait for him to carry on.

Keigo sighs at your implication. “Not all heroes wear capes or whatever. What about cops? Firefighters? Nurses? People who help put food on your table and help that old man out? Just because I’m not stopping some robbery doesn’t mean I’m not important.”

His words come as a slap to the face. He has a good point; actually, scratch that. He has a fantastic fucking point.

“I’m sorry,” you say after a moment’s silence. “That was selfish of me.”

Keigo waves a dismissive hand. “Don’t beat yourself up, kid. Nugget gets nervous if you get into a bad mood.”

Absentmindedly, your hand drops onto the horse’s neck, giving it a couple of reassuring strokes. “He’s a beautiful horse.”

“Yeah – well, until I bathe him. Getting up close and personal to horse cock isn’t fun. A bit degrading, actually.”

Slapping a hand over your mouth, you try to muffle your sudden laughter. Air streams through the cracks of your fingers.

Instead of his usual smirk, Keigo flashes you a genuine smile. You’ve only seen it once or twice before, but it never fails to make your heart stop. His whole face scrunches, his pearly teeth a startling white compared to his sun-kissed skin. Okay, so maybe you’ve fallen in love with this guy. It’s no big deal; you’re only here for the summer, so there’s no point in chasing after something you can’t have.

“What, did ya find that funny? I’m here all week, folks.”

“You saying you’re a standup comedian now?” you shoot back. “I didn’t know they accepted clowns on farms.”

“Ohoho, so you do got a mouth. Where’s that been all this time, huh? Would’ve made things a lot more fun.” Reaching up, he knocks his cowboy hat further back, revealing more strands of sandy hair and bronzed skin. “Listen here, partner. This town ain’t big enough for the two of us.”

“Oh my god,” you say with a snort. “You’re such a dork.”

Keigo snickers. “You know you love me.”

Heh. Yeah…

If only he knew.

-

Maybe you should’ve taken his words more into consideration.

Your instincts are more attuned to what could happen in battle, not for words. Besides, Keigo is a sneaky bastard. Most of the things that spew from his mouth are innuendos and pure sarcasm. He doesn’t really come off as a genuine type of person.

It’s whatever. You don’t like to read into things too much, and maybe that’s your fault, maybe it’s not. Who knows?

Even so, your eyes continuously drift over to where he stands. He busies himself with hanging Nugget’s saddle and harness away, his body lax. If one’s thing for sure, he definitely seems a lot more comfortable around animals rather than actual human beings. You can’t blame him, but what about you? Is he comfortable around you?

Clearing your throat, you turn back to the task at hand. Brushing Nugget down, you trail your hand over the coarse hair, the hard muscle. You meant it when you said he’s beautiful. Shiny brown coat, straw colored hair – he seems like the perfect match for Keigo.

“Cowboy Keigo,” you mutter. “Tell me, Nugget,” you begin, “does Keigo treat you right? Feeds you apples and lumps of sugar? A pretty horse like you deserves to be spoiled.” At the mention of his master’s name, Nugget whinnies. “Is that a yes? You’re avoiding the question, man.”

“Are you seriously trying to sweettalk my horse?” Keigo pipes up. Stepping over the stall, he hoists himself up onto the gate and straddles the wood. Wings sweeping behind him, he flashes you a peculiar look. “Didn’t they teach you in school that you shouldn’t seduce a horse? I don’t know about you, kid, but bestiality isn’t smiled upon around here.”

“Then what does that say about you, bird boy?” you quip. “Surely you don’t put yourself in that category?”

“Ooo, degradation. How did you know that was one of my kinks? Were you looking through my search history?”

Rolling your eyes, you set the brush to the side and join him at the gate. Climbing up, you mimic his movements and straddle the wooden beam. “Kinky cowboy, huh? Kind of has a nice ring to it.”

“Oh yeah. I’ve got the bedazzled white boots and everything. I mean, I’m already wearing the assless chaps and everything.”

“You sound more like a stripper rather than a farmhand. What do you think, Nugget?” you ask, turning towards the horse. Nugget merely snorts and shakes his head.

“Hey, hey, don’t agree,” Keigo tells him. “I’ve got to keep my secret life a secret, you damned horse. Help a guy out.”

“I guess your partner would rather throw you under the bus,” you say with a chuckle. “Good horse.”

“Now you’re just trying to hurt my feelings.”

“Cry me a river, bird boy. Or do I have to kiss your booboos?”

At that, Keigo falls quiet. The look in his eyes is unreadable, but the way his body tensed tells you something else entirely. Abruptly, he swings his leg over the gate and hops back down onto the ground. Aw, shit. Did you take it too far? It was only lighthearted flirting and yanking on his leg-

“C’mere,” Keigo says, offering you his hand. His voice is a lot more… soft.

With little to no hesitation, you take hold of his hand and get off the gate. You’re about to ask him what he wants, but then he’s abruptly pulling you to the side, further away from the stable’s open doors. Birds are singing outside, their sweet melody carrying along with the sweet summer breeze. It almost seems like an entire world away. A grunt escapes your lips as you’re shoved against the wall, the smell of straw and musk filling your senses. Keigo steps in close, the heat radiating off his body sending shivers down your spine.

“Listen here, pretty little birdie,” he drawls, his lips pulling back in a smirk, “but I may just have to take you up on that offer.”

Wait, what?

“What the hell, Keigo? Where is this coming from?” you question. It’s not like you’re against him being so damn close, it’s just… unexpected.

“Oh, right, like I’m supposed to pretend that you don’t gawk at me at any chance you get. You’re not very subtle, you know.”

Embarrassment heats up your insides, crawls up your neck. So this bastard is really going to rub it in your face, huh? Seems just like him.

“Then why didn’t you say anything about it before?” you hiss. “If it’s such a problem, don’t stay silent. You’re not the type to let things like that slide.”

“Who said it was problem?”

Keigo: 1 / you: 0

Spluttering, you try to gain control of your whirling emotions. This is not how you were expecting this conversation to go. Actually, you weren’t expecting this conversation at all!

“I know for a fact that you can’t get enough of me,” Keigo continues. “And if I’m being completely honest, I like it. You look so cute when you stare after me, birdie. Then you have the audacity to pretend like nothing happened whenever I catch you.”

“Is that what this is all about?” you huff. “Okay, fine. I admit it. Maybe I watch what you’re doing more than what’s necessary. It’s not my fault you walk around all the time without a shirt on or anything…”

“Normally, I’d say because it’s because I get hot when I’m working, but knowing that you were watching made it all the better.” He winks at you. “Gotta hand out a treat here and there, you know?”

“You really are a clown!” you squeak. Keigo laughs as you weakly shove at his chest. “You’ve been leading me on this entire time? What am I, a joke?”

“Hey now, don’t get ahead of yourself, kid. It’s not my fault you couldn’t come up to me like a civilized adult.”

Okay, now you’re fuming. “Keigo, you fucking idiot-“

Swooping in, Keigo cuts you off with a kiss. Unsurprisingly, his lips are soft; he tastes like citrus and salt, and before you know it, you’re looping your arms around his neck, knocking his hat off in the process. A huff of laughter fans across your lips as Keigo pulls back, his mouth hovering over yours. “Shit, I’ve been wanting to do that ever since your pretty ass sat at the kitchen table for the first time.”

You sigh. “You really do have a bird brain…”

You kiss him, again and again. Perhaps you should be ashamed that you have your tongue shoved down somebody’s throat rather than working, but there’s no way you’re stopping now. Like him, you’ve been waiting for this moment. The two of you have been tiptoeing around each other, rolling the tension back and forth like a goddamn snowball.

But fuck if it doesn’t feel good.

His hands aren’t shy, not in the slightest. Fingertips map out the ridges and dips of your body, seek out the spots that really make you tick. You bite back a giggle as he drops his mouth down your neck, the scruff covering his jawline tickling your skin. Your own hands trail over his body, tracing over the hard lines of muscle that hide beneath his clothes. Time and time again, whenever you’d see him without a shirt, you wanted nothing more than to run your hands all over him. This is your chance, now, and you’d be damned if you didn’t take it.

“Shit, shit, shit, not the wings,” Keigo pants into your neck. The scarlet feathers feel like silk beneath your fingertips; skimming over them, you follow their shape, feel how they get fluffier the closer they are to his shoulders. “Oh, fuck. You know just what you’re doing, huh, birdie? Playing around with me like that. Two can play at that game.”

Another grunt slips from your lips as he pushes you against the wall, harder this time. His hands shamelessly drift underneath your shirt, warm palms sliding over your skin. Your shirt comes off before you know it, being unceremoniously thrown to the ground.

“Fuck, birdie, aren’t a pretty one,” Keigo purrs, his nose bumping against your throat as he sucks another mark into your flesh. “I bet you’re real pretty down here, too…” Making quick work of your jeans, he easily slips them down your legs and you eagerly step out of them. “Don’t mind if I do, kid,” he murmurs into your ear before nipping at the lobe.

A weak moan breaks from your throat as a hand slips into your underwear and cups your sex. His hand is just so warm, and the roughness of his callouses causes your head to spin. Within no time, wet, sinful noises sound from between your legs, mixing with your heavy breaths and Keigo’s encouraging words.

“Yeah, you like that, birdie? My fingers feel good, huh? Wait until you get a feel of my cock.”

Spurred on by his words, you hastily unbutton his shirt, pushing the fabric to the side and running your hands over the swell of his pectorals, the ridges of his abdomen. A faint dusting of blond hairs covers his chest and arms; and, if you look close enough, more sticks out from the waistband of his jeans. Keigo hums as you continue to feel him up, his tongue pushing against the inside of his cheek.

“Like what you see? I bet you’ve been wanting to do this for a long time… Fuck! Not going to go easy on me, huh? I like someone who can bite back.”

“Has anybody ever told you that you talk too much?” you breathe. Fingers wrapped around his cock, your movements catch up to his in speed. “You should consider yourself lucky that I like your voice.”

“Oohoohoo, feisty. That mouth of yours is saying a lot of mean things today, isn’t it? Guess I’ll have to put you in your place.” He pauses, swipes his tongue over his bottom lip. “But, if I’m being entirely too honest, I don’t think I have the patience for that.”

“Keigo,” you pant, “I swear to Christ if you don’t fuck me right now-“

“On it, on it. Don’t get your panties in a twist, your majesty.” In hurried movements, he strips you of your underwear and shucks his chaps and jeans down. Large hands grip onto your thighs and then you’re being hoisted up, sandwiched between his rigid body and the wall. “Why, won’t you feel that,” he purrs, “I’d say it’s high noon.”

“Don’t talk about your dick like that, you dork,” you scoff. “Oh, fuck.” Another pleasured noise slips through your lips as you grind down against him, his cock just barely teasing your hole.

“What was that, birdie? You know what they say – sweetie on the farm, a freak in the barn.”

“You’re anything but sweet. Just – Keigo, please?”

“Alright, I get it, enough teasing.” Adjusting his hold on you, he flashes you a tiny smile. “Hold on, partner.”

A choked groan breaks free from your throat as his cock slides in, your velvety walls sucking him in greedily. That damned smirk of his stays on his face the entire time he fucks you, along with that devious glint in his eyes. His façade only cracks after you start stroking his wings and squeeze around his cock; if he wants to act like a cocky son of a bitch, then so can you.

“Shit, you’re fucking tight,” he pants. The smack of skin against skin fills your ears, right alongside Keigo’s breathy moans and muttered words. “Keep squeezing like that, birdie, and you’re gonna make me cum quicker than I want to.”

“You almost sound like that’s exactly what you want me to do,” you breathe. “A cowboy like you has got to have some stamina, right? Don’t tell me all of that work goes to nothing.”

“Jesus, and you called me talkative. Fuck, I can’t wait to shove my cock down your throat and shut you the hell up – I said don’t squeeze like that, holy hell. Dirty little head you got there, huh?”

“Shut the fuck up,” you mumble, yanking him back into a kiss. Keigo only moans loudly as you continue to play with his wings, quickly finding out that the spot where they protrude from his flesh is the most sensitive.

“Milk my cock, birdie,” he mutters between broken kisses. “You’re so fucking good to me, oh yeah. I should’ve done this weeks ago.” A startled squeak bursts from your throat as he abruptly strikes your ass. Sucking air through his teeth, he does it again, relishing in the desperate noises spilling from your mouth. “That’s right, birdie. Come on, make me cum. I’m gonna cum so fucking hard for you, fill you up until your belly’s bloated.”

“Keigo-“  You moan as his hand drops down, fingers furiously rubbing at your sex.

“That’s right, say my name. Let the whole fucking world know who’s fucking you this good.”

“Keigo-“

Smack.

“KEIGO!”

The knot building up inside you snaps; with a cry, you cling even closer to him, your velvety walls spasming around his thick cock as you cum.

Slamming a hand against the wall, Keigo fucks into you harder, faster, the wet noises sounding from between your legs almost deafening. “Oh fuck yeah, oh fuck yeah, oh fuck, fuck, fuck – ah- ah- ugghnn…” Burying his face in your neck, his hips erratically jerk as warmth fills your insides. “Still… cumming… fuccckkk…”

Your eyes flutter as he shallowly thrusts into you, the sinful squelch of his cum leaking out around his cock filling your ears. Slowly, he comes to a stop, his hot breath fanning over your neck and the side of your face. Gingerly, you let him go, completely unaware that your fingernails had dug into him in the first place.

“Well,” he starts, lifting his head and flicking away sweaty strands of hair, “that was eventful, wasn’t it?”

You scoff. “Tell me why I like you again…?”

“Oh, darling,” he drawls, leaning in and pecking the corner of your mouth. “I don’t think you like me. I think you love me. You aren’t very subtle.” He laughs as you smack him on the chest.

“Okay, fine. You’re lucky I love you, bird brain. Don’t go rubbing it in.”

“Silly birdie,” Keigo hums, his face scrunching into that wonderful smile of his. “I may just love you too.”

Wait, seriously?

“And no, I’m not joking or being an ass,” he continues, as if reading your mind. “What’s it called? Love at first sight? I dunno, seems like cheesy bullshit to me, but I… I like the appeal of it. It sounds nice when you’re involved.”

Your heart thumps against your chest.

Oh, fuck.

[terrm9]

you give it to me anyway (Tatum X Lina)

Set immediately after the ending of chapter 13.

Update (after the events of chapter 14): in this little series, Tatum does not go back to the army but is relocated to work as a bodyguard for some random politician in Rutherland. That's why this goodbye of theirs is not as heartbreaking as it was canonically. Therefore, shall the two other parts happen, they will not follow canon because I have them planned and I refuse to make new plans

WC: 3 600; rating: M (mature)

Warnings: swearing, making out, mentions of smoking, alcohol consumption, adult situations; hurt/comfort

Author’s note: my first Foreign Affair fic - it was so much fun to write I forgot about my two idiot doctors for a while. This is supposed to be part 1 of three-parts mini series, but 1) I have no idea when those two other parts will happen and 2) if it goes by plan, they will be all completely okay to read as stand-alones so hopefully this will be enjoyable no matter what.

She could feel it. She could swear she could; she could pinpoint the moment her mind stopped working and all the energy normally divided between the gears in her head and the beating of her heart suddenly focused solely on the latter.

Her mind stopped working and her heart drummed against her ribcage twice as hard.

Lina doesn’t remember much after that, after bursting through the door and demanding an answer (“Why the fuck would you take Tatum off the team?”), her memories a messy blur of shouting (hers), a voice trying to calm her down (Demarco’s) and the one that mattered in the end.

“Lina,” Tatum put his hand on her shoulder, his face stoic – but she knew better, she could see his eyes, eyes pained, eyes pleading. “Get inside. I will be with you in a moment.”

“But-“ she opened her mouth to protest, only to be stopped by Tatum’s gentle squeeze and eyes more pleading.

Just get in and wait for me, he whispered and that’s how she has gotten here.

Pacing back and forth in her room, biting her lip so hard she feels blood. Her brain is working again, thinking and analyzing (overthinking, overanalyzing) and she needs a cigarette, a shot of vodka, she needs to punch something (someone), needs to just do something.

The tremor in her hands violent and she clenches them in fists, telling herself that it’s anger, a rage running through her whole body, but there is that traitorous voice that whispers – no, screams – that she knows this is more than that, that it’s fear.

A lump in her throat formed and unmoving and Lina swallows once, twice, keeps swallowing until she cannot catch her breath but the fucking lump is still there and tears are threatening to fall from her eyes and-

No.

Line Monroe does not cry. She has learnt not to cry, hasn’t cried since-

She does not cry.

Tries to take a deep breath but it’s completely useless and Lina knows how she feels. Like a crystal vase in the middle of a big wooden table, beautiful and shiny and protected at all costs – all of it worth nothing when an earthquake comes. This is her personal earthquake, every second pushing her closer to the edge, sobs threatening to cut her open, to leave her mouth and never stop and she wonders if falling over the edge and just break into million pieces would be such a terrible thing.

She could beg. She would beg, if only that would help. She only begged once in her life.

(Lina has never been the picture of a perfect child – well, definitely not after Tatum left. No, she lived for making her mother’s political career an actual hell, she laughed into her face in the middle of a scolding. The First Daughter of Rutherland couldn’t give less fucks about what her mother wants, needs, asks for. Nobody ever asked what she wanted, needed, asked for.)

She only begged once in her life – she was seven and desperately wanted a puppy. (She could do it again at the age of twenty-two and desperately wanting her Tatum.)

Mom, I promise I’ll be good. (Mom, I promise I’ll be good.)

I will take care of him. (He will take care of me.)

I won’t eat sweets. (I won’t smoke. Won’t get drunk.)

I will do all of my homeworks. (I will go on as many fake dates as you want.)

I won’t watch TV. (I won’t cause another scandal.)

I will clean the whole house! (I will attend all the summits, I will, I will.)

Mom, please. (Mom, please.)

She never got the puppy. (She knows that no matter how much she begs, she will not get to keep Tatum, either.)

An earthquake and she is starting to accept her fate, awaiting the final shake, the strongest vibration that will make her fall from the table and shatter.

There is a soft knock on the door and she feels it coming, the magnitude strong enough to stir fear inside of people.

Tatum walks in, closing the door behind him carefully – and the Richter scale does not have enough values to describe how dangerous this earthquake has gotten.

“Lina,” he whispers softly, stretching his arms towards her and that’s it.

The crystal vase falls to the ground (into Tatum’s arms) and the shards cut skin (and the sobs cut Lina open).

It is easy after the first one – like the blood spilling out of the cut, like a plug removed and water pouring, flooding, destroying, the sobs leave her mouth and her shoulders shake and Lina hasn’t done this in four years, hasn’t shed a tear for so long but Tatum’s arms encircle her, strong and firm and safe and no, breaking into million pieces is not such a terrible thing after all.

She thinks she screams in one moment and Tatum only hugs her tighter, slowly dropping to the soft carpet, pulling Lina with him, his arms never (never, never) leaving her shivering body – and she holds onto him tighter than she holds onto her own life (own dignity, own worth, none of it more important that holding onto Tatum), hands still clenched in fists. Lina’s grip on his perfect white shirt must be uncomfortable and she is sure she is ruining the fabric, if not with her nails then definitely with her mascara-tinted tears.

For a long, long moment they stay like that – Tatum kneeling on the floor and Lina curled up against his chest, sobs wrecking her body and his hands drawing soothing circles on her back.

“We will make this work, Lina,” he whispers when the room falls into silence, the only memory of Lina’s ignominious breakdown being Tatum’s soaked shirt and her throbbing temples. “You are strong and the other bodyguards are capable. Demarco is a good agent, they will keep you safe.”

“I don’t care about being safe,” she scoffs. “All my life, everyone has only cared about me being safe. You are… You have always been the only one to care about how I am feeling. If I am happy. And now you are leaving again.”

Tatum pulls back a little – not enough to break the contact of his hands on her shoulders, just enough to look her into eyes – and with a voice that is quiet but firm, leaving no room for doubts, he says: “I am not leaving you, Lina. I won’t be returning to army, okay? I am going back to Rutherland tomorrow and only then I will be informed about this move – maybe I am only being taken off for some time. This is not the same as the last time.”

“I cannot lose you again,” she whispers, not meeting his eyes. As if she was not sure about her decision to share such moment of vulnerability with him.

“You will not. Who is my toughest galyetas here, hm?”

Lina looks up at him at that, the initial shock from hearing the old nickname (the one she hasn’t heard in years, the one she has missed for years) soon replace by her smile, however faint and it’s like the sun peeked into the room all at once.

(Eyes puffy and red, cheeks wet from tears and lips swollen from biting and has she always been this beautiful?, Tatum wonders.)

“I am,” she chuckles before Tatum demands the answer and encouraged by the moment of clarity that has settled over them, she manages to stand up and open the closet.

Impulsive would be a great word to describe Lina. Unpredictable. Fierce. Mostly fierce, Tatum thinks and it should not be a surprise for him when Lina takes off her skinny jeans and light blue blouse, carelessly throwing them over the chair and it should not be a surprise when she follows the motion to take her bra off, no, it should not be a surprise for him and yet-

The heat in his cheeks is inappropriate, for God’s sake, and he should – he must – tear his gaze off her naked back, but he cannot (and how many nights he wished he was granted this? how many days?). He stares and stares as she ruffles through the closet and it’s his time to clench his hands into fists to stop himself from reaching out to her.

“I should… I will leave you to change,” he finds his voice and it’s low and husky and inappropriate, but Lina just smirks as she turns slightly to face him better and he needs to avert his gaze, he must not stare at the curve of her breasts, so perfect above her ribcage.

“You have already seen me naked,” the smirk widens. “And besides, you should get out of that wet shirt too.”

Getting out of his clothes does not sound like a good idea to him, not in the slightest, but it gives him a reason to look down and unbutton his shirt – and that motion gives him some time to take a deep breath and respond.

“Yes, I have seen you naked. When we were five and swimming in a lake.”

He can swear he heard Lina mutter ‘time to check how much has changed in those fifteen years’, but Tatum doesn’t trust himself enough to engage in that conversation and so he carefully slips out of his jacket and the stained shirt and switches his radio off before putting everything in a neat stack on the top of a drawer.

Tatum sits down again after that, his back leaned against Lina’s bed and soon she joins him, soft grey cotton shorts and tank top on. She mirrors his position and they share a private smile, because it is their position, the one everyone knows them by – knee to knee, shoulder to shoulder, (heart to heart), Tatum’s arm wrapped around Lina’s shoulders and her hand resting on his right knee. It is always this position for them and Lina can’t count how many photos they have together, where they sit exactly like this.

“Are we going to be okay?” she whispers, almost not daring to break the comfort they bring out of each other. But she needs to. She needs to know that they are going to be okay.

“Of course,” he nudges her knee with his own softly and smiles down at her. For a moment, she pretends she does not see the panic swirling in his eyes, giving away that he does not know, that there is no of course for them.

She nods, her fingers drawing mindless patterns on his leg and she is sure they are not that mindless, she knows that in a language only known to them she is writing her confessions, she is writing a love letter.

More mindless patterns and Lina feels Tatum’s eyes on her, caring and loving and worried, definitely worried, but she doesn’t look up at him because the emotions his gaze can stir inside of her are enough to send her into another breakdown.

“Do you remember Scott Diaz’s party?” she asks into the silence.

Tatum chuckles loudly and squeezes the shoulder he is hugging. “Of course.”

“It was the first time I got drunk,” Lina says as if it was an explanation itself, when in reality this conversation was not making any sense so far.

Scott’s party was the one which only Lina attended when she was sixteen – Tatum had to stay home to help his father with something (it was not important to Lina back then) and Lina didn’t mind that much because she liked Scott and she believed there were higher chances of her charming him without Tatum’s alert gaze directed at her.

“Yes, I remember,” Tatum decides to play this game that makes no sense with her. “It was my toilet you threw up into that night.”

“I remember getting drunk with Scott and his stupid friends and realizing that they were a group of idiots, with Scott being the greatest idiot of them all. But I was drunk and he was my first crush and I just wanted him to like me and I was ready to do anything.”

“Yes,” Tatum says again, this time much more quietly, though. “I remember your phone call at 2 AM. You were crying and asked me to come and rescue you because you are drunk and nauseous and Scott is a dick but you might sleep with him if I don’t come.”

There is a long pause and Lina thinks he might not continue. Even worse, she fears he might ask why she is bringing the story up now.

To her utmost surprise, Tatum laughs and continues: “I stole my dad’s car so that I could get you out of there faster. You threw up in the backseat and my dad almost killed me because he was supposed to take your mother to the airport the next morning.”

Lina laughs with him shortly and the room falls into silence once again.

Once again, Lina makes sure to interrupt the comfort it brings.

“And then you left and there was nobody to rescue me anymore.”

She is not sure why she said that. No, Lina does not want to tell Tatum about those years he has been away. She is scared (and she has never been that scared in her whole damn life), scared to share the failures and slips of her past, scared that he would get up and leave-

(Because that’s what he should do)

-scared that he would see what she sees every time she looks in the mirror and Lina does not care about the opinion of the others, she does not care if someone sees her as someone worthy or not, as long as that someone is not Tatum.

Deep down, she knows he would not, he will not leave, she knows Tatum - the same Tatum that strokes her upper arm now, giving her the space to sort her thoughts – will stay with her even in the moments she does not want to stay with herself.

And there is one fear that is bigger, greater, more terrible than the fear of being left – fear of hurting him. The idea of her past being the reason of his hurt, being the thing that puts the haunted look into his eyes, makes her want to throw up.

She will need to tell him eventually because if somebody deserves her honesty, it’s Tatum Mendoza, her best friend, her savior, her Tatum.

Eventually does not mean now.

Tatum wishes Lina could say something, anything, he wants her to share her demons with him and he almost asks her to tell him everything but before he can do so, she turns abruptly and looks at him, her eyes no longer puffy or red – glossy and bright and beautiful now and she doesn’t say a word.

She just looks at him like he is the only thing in the whole world worth looking at.

"It's your eyes," she says quietly, reaching to cup his stubbled cheek with her left hand.

"My eyes?" Tatum asks, surprised by the sudden statement.

Lina nods, tracing his left eyebrow with her finger before moving to stroke the skin under his eyes and finally reaching the bridge of his nose.

"There's no one else's eyes that could see into me," she whispers and her finger traces circles around his right eye now, soothing the wrinkles - reminders of their earlier laugh.

(She doesn't know those wrinkles are hers; nobody makes him laugh like she does)

Her gaze doesn't leave those eyes, not for a second and and the intensity she looks at him with is far more intimate than her naked form, bare torso and soft skin she shared with him moments ago.

Tatum is sure he must be blushing.

It’s the moment her thumb traces his lower lip when they snap.

The atmosphere of fear and uncertainty and mutual understanding so deep it ignites further fear changing into the one of passion and need and fire, fire, fire, burning inside and outside, the moment their lips meet.

He has kissed many girls and he knows Lina has kissed many people too and fuck, they even kissed each other before but this kiss is different, filled with more than just years of friendship (years of love) – filled with years of separation, years of longing, years of pain.

They kiss as if the pressure of their tongues against each other’s could be their private painkiller.

A moment later they are on the bed and Lina is not sure how they got there, she can’t remember they mouths parting but it must be so, because she is laying on her back, her hands firmly against Tatum’s shoulder blades to pull him closer and it still feels like he is not close enough, one of his hands next to her head and the other tangled in her hair, pulling on them and massaging her scalp all at once as he kisses her the way she has never been kissed before.

Lina’s hand moves from his upper back to his shoulder, caressing the old scar there and moves to his chest and his stomach and she feels him growl against the skin of her neck at the touch, the vibrations sending shivers over her whole body; she reaches his waistband and her finger fumble on the button of his trousers as he kisses her collarbone.

His fingers circle her wrist suddenly and he moves her hand away from him, gently (as he always is with her, gentle).

“You don’t want-?” she doesn’t know what to say. Me? This? Us?

“I want everything with you, Lina,” he sighs and it’s almost painful sound. “But I cannot take an advantage of this situation. You are – we both are – worried about your future, exhausted and uncertain and I don’t want our first time to happen under such circumstances. You deserve much better.”

There is a part of her that wants to cry again. Sob again and punch someone, because of course he is right.

(It is every single part of her, actually. Every single part wants to cry and sob and punch)

He is right, as he always is. He knows what she needs even when she doesn't know it herself – he always had known. Five years apart did nothing to change that.

Lina traces the lines of Tatum naked torso with her eyes and perhaps it should scare her how familiar it feels. She knows his body, every (almost every. Almost, she reminds herself) scar and every freckle, his flexed muscles and long fingers, she knows his body, even though she grew up getting to know a body of a boy and now her fingers are caressing a body of a man.

She hates how vulnerable she feels and how much she wants to share everything with him. But that's now what she has taught herself, no.

And so, despite the disgusting feeling of tension in her throat, she smirks and asks: "Why do you care about the first time so much?"

Tatum chuckles and makes a show of rolling his eyes (not leaving his position above her, not even now), biting his lower lip deep in his thoughts.

When he looks down at her again, however, his gaze is tender, too tender and intense and Lina has to avert her eyes because surely he can see into her, he can see all that she has done, all that she has caused while he was gone, not there to save her, to take care of her.

"It's not the first time I care about," he speaks softly and any hints of amusement are gone. "It's the first time with you."                                                                    

She almost asks him about his first time – she knows it must have happened after he left. There is the part that is Tatum’s childhood best friend and is simply curious. They shared everything with each other – first crush and first kiss and first platonic love, she knew his and he knew hers. Of course she is curious about his first sex or how many firsts there were, how many people that got to know him in the way she has never gotten.

There is another part of her, a bigger one, she realizes with dread, that hopes he would tell her that he has lost count, that his five years in army were filled with infinite excesses and that he would rather not talk about it – maybe then her deeds would be justified.

She cannot ask him because it’s Tatum and he would ask back.

What would she tell him?

She laughs to herself, a sardonic sound lacking any hint of joy it is supposed to carry.

I have no idea. I am not sure about the first nor about the last time. I cannot count them, I will never be able to count them because I do not remember.

I do not remember.

“Lina,” he whispers, still hovering above her. “Don’t do that. Stay here with me.”

“I-“ she opens her mouth – for what, she doesn’t know. To explain or to apologize?

“We do not have to talk, mahal. We can just lay next to each other until the morning comes, alright?”

Tatum lays down next to her and wraps his arms around her without further questions and as she puts her head on his chest and listens to the steady beat of his heart, she feels calm for the first time in weeks.

“Alright,” she whispers back.

They lay next to each other through the night, listening to each other’s hearts and breathing and Lina thinks that even though they don’t talk, there are novels of conversations exchanged between them that night, written in the softest of sounds they make.

  *** *** ***

Ever since finding out that Tatum is Filipino, I felt this desire in my heart to throw some (nick)names for Lina in his native language here and for him to use them. I can’t see him calling her darling on daily basis, but I can see him muttering it in the language he grew up with when the moment asks for it

galyetas = cookie, biscuit (Tatum’s nickname for Lina since forever)

mahal = darling, sweetheart

 I am not exactly happy with how the ending turned out but it’s not going to get better so you have to suffer through it with me

Thank you for reading!

[trashiewrites]

Promotion (Soap x Reader)

Word count: 2319

[Notes: I'm so happy to finally have finished this fic! I've been feeling on and off for a while. I hope you all enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Also sorry I have really basic grammar so grammar might be shit.]

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Night lurked over the head of the men and women of the camp. You found yourself looking up to the sky for no particular reason. The stars of tonight shined brightly, they seemed almost hypnotic. You were out of it to not hear someone come by behind you. "Sky beautiful tonight ain't it?" You jumped up at the sudden voice, knowing it was the captain "sorry, didn't mean to scare ya!"

"It's fine captain...." you lightly chucked as splashes of red-tinted your cheeks. You've had a small feeling for the Scottish man. You've been denying it till recently. He's your CO but you know... at least shoot your shot. "Would you like to join me, captain?"

"I would love too" he sat down close next to you. A lovely grin from ear to ear as he stared at the stars too. "What do you see or get reminded of when you see the stars?" You hummed, placing a finger upon your chin as you thought. For a split second, you glanced at the captain...

"Well..." your heart raced at the thought of putting the notation of you liking someone out there. In the end, you chicken out of it. " I see possibilities! What about you sir?"

"They remind me of someone I deeply love." He chuckled as his gaze faced downward. "They don't quite know it yet though..."

"Whoever it is, they should count themselves lucky, sir." You nudged his shoulder, attempting to keep your cool, "you're an amazing person after all!"

"You really think so?" Soap laughed as he rubbed the back of his neck. You nodded, giving him a reassuring smile. Though your chest showed this pang of jealousy. "Say... how about we head to the mess hall? Grab some dinner."

"Of course!" You yelped a tad too excitedly. Realizing that fact you tensed up and smiled nervously "um... Of course, captain..." the both of you stood and began to walk side to side. The walk itself was sweet and littered with small talk about anything. It could be training, people, or even gossip. Yet throughout the whole time you would glance over to the captain. Noticing small little details about him that made your heart slowly melt. His chiseled jaw, his deep blue eyes, the way he laughed and made others motivated. You loved every single thing about this man.

"I wonder what crap they'll give us today.." He held the tent's drapes open for you. "You first~" he mockingly bowed.

"Why thank you, captain!" You walk in after a small curtsy.

"You know you can call me John right? It's off-hours, so I don't mind." You paused in your tracks, processing the offer. You knew no one who ever called the Captain by his first. If anything you found the idea almost disrespectful to him.

"Are you sure sir?" You look at him with a look of pure confusion. He covered his mouth as a laugh leaked from it. Which by all means makes you even more confused.

"Yes, I'm sure. But just on off-hours, ya hear?" He smiled, lightly pushing your shoulder as he walked past you.

"Y-yes, sir!" You both went up getting your MREs. On the side, they had a package of tea bags, the water next to it respectfully. As well there is a brewer with a sign that reads coffee. You, being much more a tea person, gladly took a plastic cup and had your cup. John, on the other hand, had pure black coffee. As you sat down facing each other you could help but notice the stars in his eyes as he glanced at the coffee. If anything it was drop-dead adorable. As you both waited for the MREs to prepare themselves you decided to push what john told you earlier. "So John..." you coughed, hoping to release some on the nerves. He hummed back glancing down at you as he sipped his cup of dirty beans.

"Something on your mind (y/n)?"

"About that person, you talked about earlier. It-the one you love, can I ask more about them?" You glanced down, waiting to get scolded that it wasn't your place to know.

"Sure!"

"Sir, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked it definitely isn't-" you headshot to look at John as you realized the words that exited his mouth. "W-wait... really?"

"I mean, why not?" He smiled ever so innocently, "do you not want to know anymore?"

"It's not that... I just thought that's not really my place." You flash him a nervous smile as well a shrug of your shoulders. "But go on!" Your tone was almost eager, your heart yearned to hear this.

"Well.. she's a beautiful lass. Very strong-willed and kind." His face began to soften, you assume at the thought of the girl. "She just splendid to be around. She's smart, witty, and exceptional clueless..." he chuckled, facing off to the side.

"Do I know her?" You took a bit of your MRE. Which, by the way, was still piping hot. "Hot hot hot!!" You lightly banged the table as you swallowed through the pain. John smiled as he placed a hand upon his chin, pondering the question.

"I suppose you do, they are on the team." This caught you by surprise. You knew this person, and you trained with this person. The thought plagued your mind. Unaware of it, you were eerily silent as a checklist played through your head. John coughed, having taken bites from his meal, "look, you don't have to look further into it but if you do find out, I'll give you a promotion of sorts."

"A promotion? For something like this?"

"You'll see.." John smiled as he took his final bite. "Now I best be off, good luck." He stood, walking away from the table. Leaving you staring into the distance, dumbfounded. As you finished you knew that the other boys were up much later. Roach, for example, the man stays up all the time. Speed walking over to the barracks to see Roach outside on his phone.

"Gary! I have to ask you something!" He looked up and smiled sweetly.

"Sure! What could you need this late though?"

"Apparently the captain like one of the girls, do you have any idea who?" You spoke quietly as to not draw anyone else's attention. Roach was baffled at first at the weird question. Yet that baffled face soon became one that reads 'you can't be serious'.

"You are blind..."

"What do you mean?" You began to think it should be an obvious answer. But there are plenty of women as John described.

"Look... I don't know the captain personally enough to know for sure. But it's been kinda obvious for a while." Roach chuckled as his eyes returned to his phone, "I don't even think I have the balls to tell ya. How 'bout ask the lieutenant? He knows the captain like the back of his hand."

"Lieutenant Riley? Ghost? Do you know how weird that is? At least me and you, ya know, we are the same rank." You clutched your fist together, chills running down your spine at the thought.

"If I tell you, you probably, no, you WILL go ask the lieutenant anyways."

"Just tell me, Sanderson!" You grabbed the man, who is taller than you, by the collar of his shirt.

"It's you dumbass!" You stood there in silence. Some say your soul exited your body for a minute. Roach slowly moved your hands off his collar. "(Y/n)??"

"You're joking..." Roach shook his head. "Where is the lieutenant?"

"In the living quarter last I checked." Roach meekly voiced out, scared to once again get his collar grabbed. You walked in to see the lieutenant relaxing in the lounge area, his head in a newspaper. You quietly made your way over, as well as thinking of what the hell you would ask him. You found it painfully awkward to ask if your CO has a crush on you.

"You need something (y/n)?" He lowered his newspaper ever so slightly, his brown eyes staring coldly at you.

"Uh... y-yes I-I have a... question." You stared right back to him, the heat on your cheeks making you uncomfortable as hell.  He chuckled as he took one last look at his paper, folding it neatly. You could help but think did he already know you were coming here? I mean it wouldn't be surprising, due to the confrontation with Roach.

"Well, go ahead then. Ask away."  His  voice  seemed to mock you, not rudely of course. But it's as if he was teasing you.

"W-well sir, earlier this evening the captain g-gave me a challenge to... to.." you coughed the lump of nervousness in your throat was suffocating. As you once again open your mouth to speak the rest of your statement, Riley's deep voice chimed in.

"He dared you to find out who's he's crushing on, ya?" Your heart sunk down to your stomach. Of course he already knew... you feel the heat on your cheeks.

"Y-yes, sir... gosh this is embarrassing." You faced the ground, glancing up periodically.

"Well I'm assuming you want me to tell you who?"

"W-well sir, I originally asked Roach and well..." you coughed, trying your hardest to grow some balls, "He said it was me. I was just wonder if it t-true."

"I'll tell you two things alright?" You nodded as you took a seat across from him "one, he does. It's been quite obvious for a while. Two, he never shuts the fuck up about you.. god it comes to the point I hate being in a room alone with him."

"O-oh I-I"

"Just hurry up and get together already, that way he stops fucking going on about ya" you nodded did a 180 headed straight off.

"Y-Yes sir!!"

Just after, you sat at your bunk... you couldnt bring yourself to do it. Your mind was still processing it all in. Lieutenant Riley's word echoed in your ears. You yourself felt like you were floating, yet scared. "This must all be a dream, it too good to be true..." you pinched you arm, almost to the point of drawing blood. Eyes squint from the pain, and open to the same scenery as before. "What am I doing?" You stood and went to the mirror, slapping your cheeks. Squeezing your face together ever so slightly, "get yourself together (y/n), this could be the once chance!" You confidently went to the door. "Captain quarters are far... it shouldnt be difficult at all." You walked out briskly, closing the door quietly behind you.

You made steady pace to the captain quarters. You tried your hardest to keep your cool, you werent sure if it was working. Then again, it's rather late there really isnt many people around. You stood in front of the door. You have never been more scared of a door before.  You took a step forward, a deep breath, curling your hand to knock of the door. Before you could even knock the door opened and there stood the captain. "Oh (y/n), what got you out here so late at night?"

"I-I just N-needed..." your body shivered of nervousness, of course he would open the door right before you were ready!

"Look at you..." he spoke softly, grasping lightly at your shoulder. Placing another hand in the open air. "You're shivering like a you've been in the cold for awhile, come in." He slowly leads you in, even if you were at all cold (which you weren't) the heat from your face could probably keep you alive. You look up to him offering a cup of hot tea.

"Captain... I-im not cold..." you took the cup, taking in the aroma of the tea. "but I do appreciate the drink." It was calming actually.

"If you ain't cold, does that mean you're nervous? By what in god name has god cha nervous?" You place the tea upon the coffee table. You knew he was staring at you, yet you could stare back. Rubbing your arm shyly, a small cough to clear your throat. "Oh.... it's that challenge ain't it?"

You nodded, slowly lifting your head to see him. His expression was almost eager, perhaps hopeful? He held his own hands, twiddling with his own thumb. "C-Captain..."

"Please... Call me John." It was almost as he was begging just like a puppy. It took you by surprise but it's what you could atleast do.

"Okay, John," you chuckled. Cracking a small little smirk, butterflies already flying everywhere within you. "I-I like you too, I have for a while. Gosh, saying "like" is just an understatement. I've loved you for a while." You exhaled deeply, the weight in your chest seemingly lifted. John stood, sitting next to you. Wrapping you into a tight embrace.

"Congrats, (y/n). Are you ready for that promotion?" He spoke softly into your ear. Hunger, yearning plagued the tones of his voice.

"J-John what exactly is this promotion?" You moved his head back, cupping his cheeks. He smirked devilishly, slowly moving to cover your own cheeks.

"Well, of course. You're gonna be promoted to my girlfriend~" as he finished his sentence in a deep husky voice. He planted his lips upon yours, holding you close. It was heavenly, you didnt want it to end. His taste was hypnotic, sweet, hungry and full of passion and love. Time seemed to slow down and you couldnt care. Yet reality hit back always too soon. You two separate panting, staring longingly into eachothers eyes. "G-God I waited so long to do that..."

You panted quietly, holding your hand to his cheek. You sat and admired this moment, this moment will never happen again. "Well... I hope the wait was worth it." You laughed, pulling his head closer. Gifting him a small peck upon his nose.

"Oh definitely princess, definitely."

[bluebellwriting]

Love Me Tender Part 6

Hey folks! I know it’s been a minute, I’ve been super busy with work and school, but I’m by no means done with this piece and you know I had to post something for Valentine’s Day (to make up for the fact that single and lonely 😆😭)

Despite popular belief, Hell does in fact freeze over. It’s Hell, after all, and in the world of pain and torture, everything is fair game. And it’s February, historically one of the coldest months for you back when you were living and certainly the most miserable in Hell too. The roads are slick with sheets of ice, you can’t walk a block without a three-foot icicle nearly spearing itself through you, and everyone’s car is perpetually trapped in a snowbank thanks to Lucifer’s “generous snow plow program.” Each winter day reminds you of the worst snow cyclones from when you were growing up in Brooklyn, cold yes, but in a way it’s all very sentimental. They remind you of the winter nights cuddled up with your siblings, hot chocolate in hand, listening to the winds blustering against your windows. It’s all rather lovely, in a strange way.

Your boyfriend of four months does not seem to agree, if the way he’s gripping you and nuzzling into your neck is anything to go by. You’ve been trying to extricate yourself from your practically shared bed for the last ten minutes, but each attempt only causes Alastor to pull you closer. He’s basically on top of you now, those boney forearms are stronger than you’d think.

“Sweetheart,” you whisper. “It’s time to get up.”

Alastor groans but otherwise your voice falls on deaf ears.

“Come on, we have to make breakfast and then--”

“But darling, it’s freezing,” he sighs. “And why would I go anywhere when I have my own personal heater right here.”

It’s really hard to stay mad at him, especially when he places sweet little kisses from your cheek to your shoulder and back again.

“Well your personal heater has some errands to run and needs to get her day started.”

“Ugh,” Alastor whines and inch by inch, begins to roll off of you. “How can you even stand to be out in that unbearable cold? Don’t you want to stay right here with me, your loving and adoring boyfriend?”

“You know I would,” you boop his nose. “But then I wouldn’t be able to get your present.” 

His ears perk up immediately.

“Present?” He coos. “A present for lil’ ol’ me? Dearest, you shouldn’t have.”

“Yes, but I can’t pick it up until I get out of this bed.”

“Oh fine. I suppose I have some things to do for tonight as well,” he teases and kisses you on the nose before finally allowing you to shift out of bed.

“Although before you leave me,” he whines. “I have a little something to kick off the festivities.”

With a snap of his fingers, a red garment manifests in your arms.

“Oh, Alastor.” You run your hands over the thick velvet of the dress. “It’s lovely.”

“This is just the beginning, love. Now go try it on,” he shoos you off to the bathroom, then immediately curls back up into the comforter to protect himself from the draft leaking in from your window. 

The dress is beautiful and warm. As soon as you change into it and assess yourself in the bathroom mirror it hits you that this has to be a customized dress. It fits you far too perfectly and the fabric is so soft, it’s like a blanket heating you up and snuggling you in. It’s either custom or enchanted with Alastor’s magic. Or maybe both, you wouldn’t put it past him to make this the perfect dress.

The last four months together have been a dream. A blissful and rapturous dream that you never want to wake up from. If you thought he was sweet before you began dating, then this is an entirely new level. You two are practically glued to the hip, and he finds a way to make every possible moment so enthralling and exciting that it doesn’t even matter. 

Everything about him is just enthralling, and the best part is that he can’t seem to get enough of you either. It makes your face warm and your mouth split into a grin just thinking about it.

You poke your head out of the bathroom door and giggle at the sight of Alastor in his own personal blanket cocoon. 

“Comfortable?” You ask.

“I’d be more comfortable if you were here with me.”

“While that sounds tempting, I wouldn’t want to ruin my fabulous new dress.”

He shoots up, blanket still around his shoulders, eyes wide and alert and trained on the way the bodice clings to your curves. It’s even more perfect than he could have expected.

“Do you like it?” He scoots to the edge of the bed and holds his arms out for you to step into.

“I love it.” You smile and step between his legs to fall into his embrace. “It’s perfect. Thank you, my love.”

“That’s just the beginning, dear,” he cheers.

“Alastor, you didn’t--”

“Nonsense! It’s our first Valentine’s together and it must be the best of all time!” Ever one for theatrics, with a flourish of his arm the room is filled with red roses.

“Oh my goodness,” you giggle and cup his face in your hands. “You darling man.”

Alastor melts into your hands, letting the softness of your palms warm his cheeks.

“Only for you, love.” He leans forward and nuzzles your nose. “Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, dear.”

If you weren’t worried about getting to the store and back in time, you would have stayed here, exactly like this, for hours more. 

“Let’s begin the day, shall we, love?” You whisper.

“But it’s cold!” He whines. “And you’re so warm!”

“Ugh, you’re such a southern boy,” you tease and pull away from him, if only to draw him out of his blanket nest and into the world. 

“You love this southern boy,” he laughs and finally rises. With a quick snap, he’s dressed in a redder-than-average suit with one of the red roses on your floor now pinned to his lapel.

He hands you your coat, gloves, hat, scarf, and tries to force another sweater upon you but you stop him before you’re a complete bundle of wool and layers.

---

Charlie must have gotten up early because the entire lobby is littered with hearts and confetti. Chocolates are on every available surface and your fearless leader is currently snuggling with Vaggie in matching heart sweaters. You watch Angel hand Husk a box of chocolates wrapped in a lovely bow. Hesitantly, Husk opens the box and spits out whatever he was drinking all over your brother before stomping away with a red face.

“What did you do to that poor man?” You call over.

“Just gave him an innocent token of my affections,” Angel chimes and shows you the contents of the box: three rows of chocolates with letters printed on each piece, spelling out “Best Dick Ever.”

“Angel, that is so vulgar,” you exclaim.

“It’s the day of love, sis.” Angel pops one of the pieces into his mouth.

“That is not love, my fellow,” Alastor chastises.

 “Aww, that’s cute coming from you, strawberry pimp.”

“I’ll have you know that I am plenty romantic,” Alastor says incredulously. “Aren’t I, (Y/N)?”

“You are, love. The most romantic,” you coo. “Now I have to get going. Please be nice, boys.”

“And you,” Alastor leans down to pull your scarf tighter around you, “promise me that you will be careful. You’re sure I can’t come with you?”

“I’m sure, love. I’ll be fine. Angel,” you turn to him. “Be nice.”

“’K, mom,” he calls back to you, waving as you begin your journey into the chilly winds.

“So,” Angel drawls, sidling up to Alastor. “What are you doing for my sister on this ever most sacred day of love and affection?”

“Something special and perfect and I will not have you distracting me,” Alastor sighs and snaps his fingers, transporting himself to his cottage deep in the woods of the Pentagram. Because only a crazy person would want to walk out in that cold. Good thing Alastor loves your kind of crazy.

---

It’s been a while since Alastor has been to his home, his actual home, one that is reminiscent of the large, Queen Anne-style homes of New Orleans. Dust is collecting on the counters and window sills, but that’s nothing that some quick magic can’t fix. The real task at hand is the redecorating and the meal he has to prepare for tonight to be as perfect as can be. This is certainly not the first time that you’ve been to his home but he’s hoping that it will be the last time that he calls it “his home.”

If he had it his way, tonight would be the night that Alastor asked you to marry him, to spend the rest of eternity -- or as long as you’d have him at least -- together in Hell as husband and wife, as partners in crime until the very fabric of the universe began to fray at the seams. He’s known for so long, long before you began your courtship, that he wanted to marry you and it took everything within him not to propose to you on your first date. But he had to be patient, suave, a perfect gentleman, because the last thing he wanted to do was scare you off with a hasty courtship and engagement. The last man who had attempted that with you, well, Alastor was still in the process of hunting him down so he could offer you his head on a spit. That was supposed to be the second part of your Valentine’s gift but alas, the wretched soul was more slippery than he had anticipated.

Hopefully you’d be impressed enough by the way he had decorated the house with some of your favorite colors and furniture from the 1940s, things to make it look more like a home you could share and grow into. 

---

The beauty about Hell in the wintertime is that there are so few people out on the streets to bother you. The sidewalks and roads are eerily quiet, the snow swallowing up distant sounds so the only ones left is the crunch of your boots. Your trip to Rosie’s had been quick, as the poor woman was overrun with sinners trying to buy up last-minute Valentine’s gifts. As she said to you in passing while gift wrapping some tacky jewelry for a panicked demoness, “good for business, bad for relationships.”

You clutched your gift bag close to your chest, guarding it from any muggers who would even dare steal the most perfect gift for your Alastor. This was weeks in the making and you were not about to let someone ruin your first good Valentine’s Day. 

You approached the door to the hotel, already anticipating a warm fire to warm your cheeks and nose, when suddenly an arm is around you and you’re no longer in front of the hotel. No, after blinking your eyes to readjust, you’re now staring at Alastor’s home, which means the arm and body hugging you close belongs to your sweet, adoring, and sometimes startling beau.

“Alastor!” You squeal. “What have I told you about surprising me like that?”

“I’m sorry, love,” he chuckles. “But I just couldn’t have you out in the cold any longer.”

“If this wasn’t a day dedicated to love you’d be buried in snow right now,” you grumble.

“I don’t doubt that, sweetest. Now come on, the fire is waiting for you.”

When Alastor first brought you into his home it was your one-month anniversary. You were actually relieved when it wasn’t a massive mansion like most Overlords pick for themselves, and you couldn’t help but be charmed by the perfectly retro, 1920s decor.

But it’s different now. The living room has new, floral wallpaper and some of the furniture reminds you of... your old home back in New York.

“You redecorated,” you shiver as you allow the warmth of the home heat up your body. Alastor rubs his hands up and down your shoulders to warm you up as soon as your coat and layers have been shed.

“Do you like it?” He asks, a glimmer of hope igniting in his eyes.

“Oh it’s lovely,” you breathe and inhale, smelling the hot meal he’s probably slaved over. “Just surprising. What brought this on?”

“Oh, just, wanted to try something new. Are you ready for dinner?”

“I’ve been salivating since I first stepped into the door.”

Dinner is delicious, mouth wateringly incredible and cajun. But all throughout dinner you couldn’t help but notice the way Alastor’s knee bounced or the way his hand shook whenever he held his fork to his mouth. Not to mention the eery quiet between you two. You can’t seem to get more than a one-word response out of him. It makes your heart drop, and the way his eyes shift away from your gaze makes a pit form in your stomach.

“Alastor, love. Is everything alright?”

His eyes dart up to meet yours. His teeth worry his bottom lip and you can hear his fingers tapping excessively on his seat.

“Of course, darling. Everything is right as rain. Are you enjoying your food?”

“It’s amazing, Al. It’s always amazing.” You beam at him and reach across the table to hold on to his hand.

“If you don’t have any more delightful surprises for me, love, could I give you my gift now?”

“(Y/N) you didn’t--”

“I won’t even dignify that with a response.”

Reaching down beside your chair, you pull out the perfectly wrapped present and slide it across the table to him.

“It’s not much,” you explain. “But I hope you like it.”

It’s perfect. So perfect, the wrapping, the bow, the very idea that his darling has given him a gift at all, that he doesn’t even want to open it. As much as he wants to tear it open, there’s the urge to keep this moment preserved in his mind forever and ever, just in case his present to you goes south tonight.

But from the way you’re looking at him, eyes wide and hopeful, he knows he has to open it right now.

Inside is a little plastic... view finder? He’s really never seen anything like this. They look like binoculars but there’s a little white disk inside with small film negatives along the circumference.

“It’s a reel viewer,” you explain. “Put it up to your eyes and click the lever.”

So he does. And with each click he’s met with little candids of you and him, some from before your relationship began, some from after, all of them more perfect than the last and preserved forever just for him. His heart swells and warms an overwhelming amount. His joy leaks from his mouth and eyes, until it feels like the sun itself is pouring through his teeth and tears.

“Oh, (Y/N), darling...” he sniffles.

“I know it’s not much but--”

“It’s everything, dearest.” It really is. And more importantly it’s enough for him to get his act together. He feels like he can breathe again, like the fog of doubt has finally been lifted. What was he so worried about? You love him, of course, you love him.

“It’s perfect.” He rises and comes to kneel before you. “More lovely and wonderful than you will ever know. So much better than my gift to you but I hope you will love it all the same. I love it, (Y/N). I love you. So, so very much, dearest.”

“Alastor, I’m going to love anything you give me because I love you, sweetheart.” You peck his nose.

“Yes, well, that’s the thing. Because really, this feels more like just another gift from you to me.”

“Is it now?” You tease.

“It is...” he sighs. “I love you. I hope you never have to doubt that for an instant in your life. And I know this might be too soon, and you can say no for now, or forever, but I have never doubted for a minute that you are the one for me. My gift to you, love, sweetheart, darling dearest, is this.” 

He motions to the dining room.

“The... dining room?”

“No, love,” he chuckles. “The house. My house... Our house. If you’ll have it. If you’ll have me.”

You gasp and tears flood your eyes so quickly that you have to blink them away to see Alastor’s hopeful eyes properly.

“You’re asking me to move in with you?”

“I am. I’m asking you to make this house, our home.”

“Oh, Alastor.” You launch forward and wrap your arms around his neck. You press your lips to his in a bruising kiss, letting him bundle you up in his own arms and grip your waist.

You pull way for a brief moment, short enough to mumble out a fervent series of ‘yeses.’ 

“Of course,” you say between kisses to his face. “Of course, I’ll move in with you.”

[p-artsypants]

I’ll Handle This (12)

In Which Lila Learns about Skyrim

Ao3 | FF.net

Sorry for taking a bit with this chapter. It isn’t even very long. But I was in the hospital recovering from surgery. We’re coming up close to the end of the story, but there’s maybe two more chapters after this. 

(Psst this chapter has hints to the next story I’ll publish after this one...as long as my ideas don’t change lol)

--

Lila was fired. It was immediate when they found out. Everyone sat in class, the lecture normal and lulling everyone into a soft state of sedation. 

Then Lila screamed. The scream was the worst thing Marinette had ever heard. Immediately, everyone turned to look at her in horror. 

She started bawling. Huge gasping sobs of someone who’d been shot. 

“Lila?!” Miss Bustier gasped in shock and concern. “Are you okay?!” 

“I’m so sorry, Miss Bustier!” She wailed. “I just wanted to peek at my email and—and—Mr. Agreste fired me!” 

Plagg had to bite his tongue. He knew she was going to twist this somehow, but her sobbing was so beautiful to see. 

“Oh Lila, I’m so sorry. It hurts a lot to lose a job. Especially when they don’t tell you to your face. That’s no fair.” 

“He-he-he said that Marinette told him that I was making Adrien uncomfortable! She got me fired!” 

Gasps, all around. 

“What?!” Barked Marinette. “I had nothing to do with this!” Not exactly the truth...

“But that’s what Mr. Agreste said!” 

Plagg stood, placing his foot on the seat, the spurs on his cowboy boots ringing with the motion. He put his cowboy hat back on (since Mrs. Bustier had asked him to remove it for violating dress code...again.) “well now. Sounds like we got ourselves in a gosh darn pickle.” 

Nino snorted. 

“Adrien! You never said I made you uncomfortable! Marinette must have lied to your father!” 

He flicked the rim of his hat. “Now slow your roll there, Buckeroo. I know my old man, and even if Marinette was mentioned in his email, it’s likely that he just wanted to place the blame on someone else.” 

Yes, throw the old man under the bus. He still deserves it, even with whole hearted apologies. 

“But you know, I do feel awfully bad for you, Lila. Losing yer job and all. How’s about I make it up to ya? I’ll come sit by you for a while. Keep ya company and cheer you up. Cain’t have gettin’ all akumatized up in here, you reckon?” 

Not that Lila getting akumatized was even a concern anymore. But the world wouldn’t know about Hawkmoth’s surrender until Emilie’s fate was resolved. Adrien’s family deserved that much at least. 

“Oh Adrien!” Lila cried. “You really are such a wonderful friend. But I couldn’t bear to make you move on my behalf. You need to focus on your work.” 

“A cowboy needs to be exceptional at multitasking. That is, as long as Mrs. Brassiere is okay with it.” 

Miss Bustier pinched the bridge of her nose. Usually, she was a very calm and level-headed teacher, compassionate and understanding. But Adrien’s antics were stressing her out massively. “Yes, Adrien, I suppose it’s fine if you move to—what did you call me?”

“Much obliged, Madam. If’en you’ll excuse me...” 

Marinette watched with fascination as Plagg gathered up his materials and moved to the back of the class to sit next to Lila. Then she glanced in her purse, where Tikki and Adrien were hanging out. They both shrugged. 

Due to the retirement of Hawkmoth, Adrien was now allowed to spend time away from the Miraculous without consequence. Plagg assured him that once the final condition was met, no matter where he was, his soul would return to his body. 

So he spent the school day with Tikki, and the evenings with Marinette. It was a sweet deal, and it really gave Adrien the time to bond with her without school or akumas in the way. 

He had even spent the night with her the night before, curled up next to her on her pillow, and purring every time Marinette’s hand glanced his fur. 

Nino leaned back in his seat. “Do you know what he’s up to this time?” 

“No idea...but I am eager to see where this goes.” 

Nino shook his head with a shrug. Two nights ago, when Plagg was arrested, Nino gathered all the money in his savings and went down to the jail to bail him out. 

Only to find out he was already let go. 

So he went back home, and called Adrien’s phone relentlessly, hoping for an answer. 

Finally, in the wee hours of the morning, Chat Noir returned and explained that he was going home now, thanks for having him, he had to watch the mansion because his sort of repentant father was going to Tibet to resurrect his dead wife. 

Nino gave up on logic and understanding, and just made sure Plagg had everything he had brought. 

Now he would wait until the whole situation blew over, and hopefully Adrien himself, in his own body, would explain it all to him. Plagg seemed to oversimplify everything to the point it became vague. 

Marinette, on the other hand, was very curious to see where this was all going. After all, Adrien’s previous tactic of being nice to Lila hadn’t worked. So what was Plagg hoping to gain from the same approach?

Wrassle her with his randomly appointed cowboy charm? 

In science, two classes later, Plagg had elected to sit next to Lila still, despite her protests. 

Marinette was close enough now to hear what Plagg’s master plan was. 

“So there’s like several types of Mer, right? But not like mermaids. This has nothing to do with mermaids. These are mostly elves, but not all. So there’s Dunmer, right? Those are dark elves. And Bosmer, wood elves, and Altmer, high elves. The Falmer are snow elves, but they’re all twisted and savage, because of the Dwemer, which are dwarves!” 

Marinette snorted a bit too loudly, drawing attention from the teacher. 

“Miss Dupain-Cheng, is something funny?” 

“No ma’am, I had a tickle in my sinuses.” 

“Ah, I see. Anyways, as I was saying...” 

Lila always sat in the back of the class, despite her many alleged disabilities. This was probably to get away with the fact that she rarely paid attention during class. 

It was the ideal place for Plagg to harass her and not get caught. 

Poetry in motion. 

“So you get to pick what race you want to be, but you’re always the Dragonborn. Despite the description, you don’t look any different. So a Dragonborn is someone that can devour the souls of dragons so they don’t get resurrected by Alduin. Let me back up, Alduin is an evil dragon that used to rule the world, and he’s resurrecting dragons so he can take over. There’s another dragon though, named Paarthanax, and he’s a good guy. He helps out the Tongues on the Throat of the World. Or the greybeards. Some call them Tongues, but in the game they’re called Graybeards. And the tongues are the monks that teach you to shout. And different shouts teach you different things, right? The dragonborn and the tongues are the only ones that are supposed to know how to shout, but there’s this other dude named Ulfric Stormcloak, and he knows Unrelenting Force, that’s the Fus Ro Da shout I was talking about earlier? He used it to kill high king Torygg to start a war. Oh yeah, so there’s nine holds with Jarls, right—“ 

The day ended, and Lila stood quickly. “Well Adrien, thank you so much for keeping me company today. I’m feeling a lot better. You can move back up to your old spot tomorrow.” 

“Well, you shore are welcome, Pardner. But sittin here in the back has been mighty nice. I think I’ll stay! You don’t mind, do ya? It’s awfully fun to have you as company!” 

Lila’s eye twitched, but she was aware that most of the class was watching them. “Yeah. That’d be...great.” 

“Darn tootin’! Well, you look like you’re in a rush, don’t want to hold you up!” 

“See you tomorrow!” She chirped, before hurrying from the room. As she passed Marinette, a dark look came over her face. The look of someone seething with rage and hatred, but trying to hide it. 

Marinette would have been scared, if Lila hadn’t been dealing with Plagg instead. 

Marinette went home, Tikki and Adrien talking to her from her collar. 

“I don’t know. Plagg was successful with the first two tasks, but I don’t know how he’s going to turn Lila over to the good side.” Marinette mused. 

“I don’t know if he has to. The condition is to just get her to leave me alone. He said he was doing some Pavlovian Jedi mind trick on her.” 

“Well, I sure hope it works. Speaking of, where is Plagg?” 

Adrien’s ears flicked. “He left pretty suddenly after class. I didn’t see him go. Hopefully, he went back to the mansion.” 

“Do you want me to call him?” 

“No, I trust him. He’s got things under control.” 

“Glad to hear it! Ready for snack time?” 

“Oh heck yes!” 

—

Lila had to actively stop herself from stomping all the way home. Frustration rolled off of her in waves, and she mildly wondered why she hadn’t been akumatized yet. 

Adrien Agreste was the most annoying person she had ever met. And oblivious too! He never picked up on any of her subtle hints to get him to shut up! She really didn’t want to be rude, because his friendship looked great on her, but wow. No wonder he didn’t have any friends. No wonder Gabriel was so protective of him. If he wasn’t cute...his personality was like a wet sock. 

And he was weird. Weird mannerisms, weird speech pattern, just weird. Hopefully she could either get used to it, or Adrien would get a clue to stop being so obnoxious. 

Finally, she reached her apartment. 

“Home mom!” She called. 

There was laughter in the kitchen. Her mother had a guest. While not uncommon, there was just a hint of dread that hung in the air. 

Lila walked to the kitchen, only to see Adrien sitting at the table, talking to her mother! How?! How did he beat her here?! How did he know where she lived?! What the hell was he doing?!

“Adrien?” Lila gawked. 

He rubbed his head awkwardly. “Sorry for popping in uninvited. I just...I was worried about you! You’ve been akumatized twice, and I didn’t want it to happen again since you were fired.” 

Lila’s face paled as her mother gave her a stern look. 

“I think you’ve got some explaining to do, Missy. I didn’t know you were modeling. And you never told me about being akumatized!” 

Adrien gasped. “Oh no! She didn’t tell you? I’m so sorry! I didn’t know that was a secret! I won’t say anymore!” 

“Any more?” Mrs. Rossi asked. “There’s more?” 

“Adrien.” Lila bit, in warning. 

“Well...I mean, you knew she was meeting with my father right? Something about being his muse?” 

Mrs. Rossi looked horrified. “What! You were talking to a grown adult man?! Were these visits supervised?!” 

Lila opened her mouth to answer, but Plagg beat her to it. “I don’t think so. Father is a very private person.” 

“Lila Giselle Rossi! You are sooo grounded! No offense to your father, Adrien, but meeting up with an adult man, unsupervised? And to what, be his muse? What does that even mean? It sounds gross!” 

“I swear nothing happened! He just wanted my opinion-”

“On what? What reason would he have to ask a 14 year old’s opinion?”

Plagg winced and looked at Lila. “I’m so sorry, Lila. I came here to help, but...” 

Lila shook with rage. Her mother was a complete pushover and believed everything she said. Now Adrien had sewn the seeds of distrust in her and she wouldn’t get away with any white lies ever again. 

“You’re dead,” She mouthed at Plagg. 

“Adrien, thank you for coming here and telling me all of this. I’m very grateful. But I think it’s best if you head home now. Lila has some chores to do.” 

“I understand, Madam Rossi. Again, I’m really sorry...I just wanted to help.” 

“Oh don’t worry, you did. This is for Lila’s own good.” 

He sheepishly looked to her. “See you tomorrow?” 

Her eye twitched. “Yeah.” 

And Plagg swiftly walked from the apartment, concealing his evil laughter until he got to the door. 

—

The next day at school, Marinette, along with Tikki and Adrien in her bag, arrived at school just a few minutes before the bell rang. 

Plagg was sitting at the front of the room, wearing a Pikachu onesie, and looking absolutely devastated. Nino sat next to him and had a hand over his face, doing his best to conceal whatever emotion he had. 

Everyone else in the room was avoiding them like they had the plague. 

Alya spotted her and came quickly, looping an arm through hers and escorting them out into the hall. “Girl, big news. I know you love Adrien, so this is going to be a blow. But here’s the thing...Lila told us this morning that Adrien came to her house yesterday and told her mom about her modeling job. Apparently, her mom didn’t want her working, and got upset that Lila lied. Adrien’s been insisting that it wasn’t on purpose, but everyone is kind of pissed at him anyway.” 

Marinette said nothing, but bit her lip. She knew that this absolutely was on purpose. 

“I’ll leave your actions up to you, but people are pretty mad at Adrien. Just letting you know.” 

“Who’s side are you taking?” 

Alya scoffed. “None. I’m staying out of this. Both people are in the right. Obviously Sunshine just wanted to prevent her from being akumatized. He was with her all day yesterday. It’s admirable, really.” 

“It is.” Marinette said with a smile. Though she was smiling for a completely different reason. There were no akumatizations anymore. Everyone was safe now. 

“We better get back in there, class will start soon.” 

So they returned. Miss Bustier was in, and ready to begin the lesson. 

Then Plagg raised his hand. 

“Yes Adrien?” 

“Before we start class, I want to say something.” 

“Go ahead, Adrien. The floor is yours.” 

He stood, and looked to Lila in the back of the room. “Lila, I know I apologized yesterday, but I’m really really sorry about outing you to your mom. I had no idea she didn’t know about your rendezvous with my father. I was just really scared that you were going to become akumatized, and I didn’t want that to happen. My friends are all important to me, and losing you would be like ripping out a piece of my heart. Could you ever forgive me?” 

Marinette glanced Nino’s face, which twitched to hide a smile. Then she looked at Lila, who looked calm, but her hands were balled into fists. 

After many breathless minutes, Lila smiled slightly. “I understand, Adrien. Of course you’re still my friend. I treasure you too! I’m sorry I got so mad.” 

“Hugs?” Plagg raised his arms. 

Lila could pretend to be happy and calm, but the paling of her skin could not be hidden. “Hugs!” 

Plagg brought her in for a squeeze, and the class ‘aww’ed at their make up. 

Except Nino, who let out the tiniest snort. 

Marinette flicked open her purse to look at Adrien. He mimed a gagging gesture back. 

And then Plagg took those last couple steps and joined Lila on her bench. No one tried to stop him. No one spoke up and said, “hey, maybe you should give her some space anyway.” 

They just all let poor, socially awkward Adrien push boundaries and take his seat. Because he had apologized so earnestly for trying to help. And she had forgiven him. So everything was fine now. 

Right?

As the lesson started, Marinette paid attention to the teacher. But occasionally, she’d hear the faintest whispers of Adrien’s voice (Plagg’s voice now). 

“...so it’s commonly believed that the Nord’s came from Atmora with Ysgramor, but they believe that they settled Skyrim, so they’re kind of racist to everyone else. But also, the Empire came in out of nowhere and tried to upheave their way of life, and even told them which Gods they were allowed to worship. High King Torygg was playing cordial with the Aldmeri Dominion, and some of the other Jarl’s didn’t like that. So Ulfric Stormcloak, the Jarl of Whiterun shouted him to death. Just like the Dragonborn can. Though it’s never explained why he knows how to do this. So this started a whole civil war…” 

Marinette chanced a glance behind her, and noticed that Lila had her head in her hands, and she looked absolutely miserable.

[esmealux]

I'll bite. 13 and 35 look like they might be fun together. 😈

Thank you so much for this fun prompt, Shelly ❤ The opportunities seemed endless, but in the end I went with this. I hope you like it.

Once again, I screwed up at brevity, so this is 1.9K (:

13. Someone does something stupid + 35. 'You wanna bet?' 'Care to wager?'

Never make a bet with the Devil.

A deal, if you must. But do not bet against him.

Not because he’ll take your soul or anything; he won’t even necessarily take your money.

But because he can’t handle it. He can’t. He’ll stop at nothing to win, and when he doesn’t—when he can’t shoot down a bottle of vodka with a slingshot from 400 feet away, or blow a soap bubble with his nose, or fly to Sweden and back in under thirty minutes (the latter he did do, but a drug test showed he’d taken EPO)—he’ll walk around in a pathetic cloud of self-pity, sulking and pouting to an unbearable degree for days on end.

So if you care about the Devil, don’t bet with him. It’s for his own good.

It really is.

And yet-

Chloe picks up the dirty plates from the coffee table as gunshots fire around her. It makes her a little uneasy, how real it sounds through their newly installed surround sound system. One so expensive she doesn’t even want to know.

Their just as overpriced (and unnecessarily big) TV is bathing Lucifer in white-blue light as he stares at the screen intently. He did want to watch the movie with her, but she’s not much of a Weaponizer fan, and she’d like to clean up before she snuggles up next to him on the couch and inevitably falls asleep. As she’s gathered all the dishes in her arms, however, she can’t help but pause and glance at the film for just a second.

‘Yeah, like that could actually happen,’ she snorts, watching the car jump across a considerable gap in a bridge, flip mid-air, and land on all four wheels on the other side. ‘I mean, no one’s ever done that.’

As soon as the words leave her mouth Chloe knows she’s made a mistake.

Lucifer pauses the movie—because God forbid he misses five seconds of a film he’s watched thirty times—before he looks up at her with a lifted eyebrow and a devilish grin.

‘Is that a challenge, Detective?’

Chloe glares at him, her jaw clenching. ‘It’s not possible,’ she states firmly, which is even worse, because now he can only reply with-

‘Care to wager?’

Chloe wants to kick herself.

‘There’s no way in Hell you’re doing that,’ she tells him, nodding towards the paused screen before she heads for the kitchen to start the dishwasher.

‘Why? Because my worried girlfriend won’t let me?’ he calls after her. ‘I’m invulnerable, remember?’

Chloe refills her wine glass, generously, and returns to the living room.

‘No,’ she objects, careful not to spill Pinot Noir on the couch as she settles against Lucifer’s warm, silk-clad side. ‘I just know you’ll never forgive yourself when your beloved Corvette rams into a cliff.’

Lucifer gasps and scoffs. ‘As if I’d ever risk such a sweet beauty like that!’ He plucks the glass out of her hand and takes a sip. ‘And even if I did, she would not, because I would succeed, first try.’

‘First try? Really?’

Chloe grabs the remote and replays the last fifteen seconds. Looking at it a second time, it’s even more ridiculous. The background is so obviously a green screen it’s not even funny, the flip is clearly made using some sort of outdated CGI, and they haven’t even bothered making it look like there’s a real person in the car. Also—Chloe doesn’t remember much from school, but she’s pretty sure the entire stunt defies physics as the car leaps, practically flies over the 150 feet gap, all the while rotating 360 degrees sideways.

‘Maybe third,’ Lucifer admits.

Chloe shakes her head and sighs.

‘I can do it, Detective.’ He looks at her like it’s a threat. ‘And I will.’

Oh, he will definitely try. The determination in his eyes leave no doubt about that. But he can’t possibly copy that stunt with an actual car and an actual gap. There’s just no way. And she shouldn’t spur him on. She really shouldn’t. But the idiot’s gotta learn at some point, and if she’s gonna have to deal with his childish disappointment (and she will), she might as well get something out of it.

‘Fine,’ she shrugs. ‘What are we betting?’

He grins at her, brown eyes twinkling with excitement.

‘If—nay, when I win,’ he answers promptly, and Chloe rolls her eyes, ‘I’ll finally get that thing I’ve always wanted.’

Chloe stares at him, comepletely clueless. If his tone and stupid smirk are anything to go by, it’s not a pet shark he’s talking about.

‘One... re-enactment for another,’ he clarifies slowly, his dark gaze gliding over her body before his eyes flicker to the glass doors leading to their terrace—and their outdoor hot tub.

Chloe fights the urge to roll her eyes again.

‘Okay,’ she agrees, internally reminding herself it doesn’t really matter. She gives him a cocky smile. ‘And when I win?’

Lucifer chuckles as if he finds her adorably naïve. Asshat. Still, he says, ‘You’ll get anything you desire.’

Chloe thinks. There’s not much she desires he wouldn’t give her anyway. She could have him do paperwork for a month, but he’d just mess it up, and she’d have to listen to his complaints about ‘torturous boredom’ and ‘purgatory’. She could also go for something funnier, like have him wear t-shirt and sweats to work for a week. But that would just be cruel, wouldn’t it?

‘I don’t know,’ she tells him, but the words are barely out of her mouth before Trixie’s enthusiastic voice sounds behind them.

‘I might have an idea!’

Lucifer sighs and gives Chloe an unimpressed look before he shifts slightly in his seat to look at her daughter.

‘Alright, but only because your mum lacks creativity like a sober Faulkner.’

Trixie walks around the couch and comes to stand in front of them, a mischievous smile on her face.

‘Please don’t tell me it’s a unicorn on the cheek,’ Lucifer huffs, taking another gulp of Chloe’s wine.

‘It’s not,’ she assures him and holds out her iPad for him to see. It’s a doodle of a small, fluffy goat with pink fur. ‘I was thinking something more… permanent.’ With the hand that’s not holding her tablet, Trixie pats a spot on the left side of her upper chest.

Lucifer slowly removes the wine glass from his lips, and the sheer horror on his face makes Chloe snort with laughter.

He stares at the small, inarguably adorable drawing like it’s a personal insult, glances down at his chest with dread, and looks back to Trixie.

‘You little Devil,’ Lucifer grumbles, but there’s no trace of hostility in his voice. If anything, he sounds a little impressed. He grabs Trixie’s iPad from her outstretched hand and studies the pink kawaii buck for a second, as if he’s seriously considering saying yes to the deal.

Eventually, he sighs. ‘I’m in.’

‘Lucifer-’ Chloe immediately begins to protest. He’s not gonna win this bet, and she knows how downright intolerable he’ll be when he’ll have to get a cute, chubby animal—one that, to him, represents mockery and misconception—tattooed onto his skin. She's tired already, just thinking about all the whining she'd have to deal with.

But it’s too late. Her boyfriend and daughter shake hands, and the deal is settled.

Chloe palms her face.

‘Wait, what do you get if you actually manage to… whatever it is this time?’ Trixie asks, her small hand still clasped in Lucifer’s.

Chloe looks up at him, heat creeping up her cheeks. Their eyes meet shortly before he looks back to her daughter, visibly conflicted.

‘Eh…’

It’s not so much a word as it is a breathy, high-pitched sound, partly stuck in his throat. But it’s answer enough for Trixie.

‘Forget I asked,’ she quickly says, her face scrunched up in disgust. ‘I’ll be in my room.’

She takes her iPad back and leaves them alone on the couch.

‘So, I guess it’s tit or tat, then,’ Lucifer remarks with a chuckle, glancing down at Chloe’s chest.

She snorts and smiles, despite herself.

‘But, I mean-’ He grabs the remote and plays the scene a third time.

He must not see the same utterly absurd and almost comically impossible stunt she (still) sees, because he leans down and whispers in her ear, ‘Better start rehearsing your lines, Detective.’

Chloe shakes her head at him and snuggles closer to his body.

*

‘You’re lucky I like your mother,’ Lucifer mumbles as the needle pinches ink into his chest.

He’d driven off in a ‘cheap’ Porsche this morning and returned eight hours later, looking like he’d literally been fed to the wolves and with no Porsche.

‘Hey honey,’ she’d greeted him, hiding her smirk behind her cup of tea. ‘How’d it go?’

He’d answered with a grunt, blamed the Germans for making their cars too ‘praktisch’ and the Italians for not making theirs fast enough (he’d controlled for variables) and finally concluded it was all his dad’s fault because He ‘created that pesky gravity’.

Then he’d handed her an ornate, black business card and looked at her as if he’d picked his own casket.

Chloe had bit her cheek and hugged him before driving all three of them to the high-end tattoo parlour he’d requested.

‘You okay there?’ she asks him, letting him grip her hand tighter. The fact that he isn’t feeling any actual pain—‘any physical pain, Detective!’—makes his wincing all the more pathetic. Still, she feels a little bad for him.

‘No.’ He bends his neck to peer down at his chest, and pouts. ‘I’m not.’

Trixie grins beside him. ‘I think it looks cool!’

‘Of course, you do. You’re a twelve-year-old girl.’

The smile on Trix’ face turns into a smirk. ‘A twelve-year-old who girl you lost a bet to.’

Sighing deeply, Lucifer turns his head to scowl at her like she’s his annoying little sister and not the stepdaughter he’d go to the ends of the universe for.

‘It’ll be gone in a few months,’ Chloe reminds him, earning her a funny look from the tattoo artist.

The muscle in Lucifer’s jaw ticks. ‘It’s not even finished yet and I already hate it more than I ever did my bloody wings! How am I supposed to endure this… horned cotton candy for months?’

Chloe takes a deep breath. She brought this on herself. She knew she shouldn’t have made that bet with him. She knew he’d be an insufferable drama queen.

She also knows, after hours of hearing him moan, that he’s not gonna shut up about ‘deceitful special effects’ and ‘useless laws of physics’, much less the ‘vile, little creature marring his muscled chest’. Not unless she does something.

So Chloe does something.

For the second time in her life, she gets naked in—and out of a hot tub.

‘No moaning, then,’ she tells him, giving him a stern look.

Lucifer looks her up and down in awe and hunger, dark eyes lingering on the tiny red bikini he knows she’ll take off in a matter of seconds. ‘Now, there’s a promise I can’t keep.’

‘About the wager,’ she clarifies, but he’s not listening.

With a sigh, Chloe sinks into the hot, bubbling water, loosens her bikini top, and gets into character.

She is never, ever betting with the Devil again.

[wolf-and-bard]

Proper Procedures for Wooing Witches

for @littoraly-art because you are amazing and I already said this, but I hope you have an awesome birthday <3

Pairing: Yennefer/Jaskier

Word Count: ~2.2k

Rating: T, some explicit language

„My darling Yennefer,“ Jaskier calls out as he swoops into his Oxenfurt apartment with a flat carton wedged under his arm. It already nicked the lavender mesh overlay of his newest doublet, but for once, he absolutely cannot be bothered by that. It’s too nice of a day. “Hello?” He kicks off his shoes.

High noon’s just gone by and Jaskier doesn’t expect Yen to be up yet – which means she will hex his ass if he wakes her. His giddiness outweighs his fears though, heart warming, as he takes in the cluttered entryway. Several pairs of shoes are strewn about, his and hers mixing on the ground. Yen’s all look like they could double as a lethal weapon and are some variation of black and white (though one pair is tinged brown from blood that crusts the bottom, he doesn’t want to know). It’s awfully domestic, a product of the temporary living situation they are in.

When Yen requested to use his rooms for a week or so, she explicitly asked for Jaskier not to be there, but, well, he is weak, he wants her, he couldn’t have stayed away if he tried. Yen’s been snippy from the moment he welcomed her with open arms and the prospect of sharing a bedroom, snippy to the point of grumpiness. That’s fair, Jaskier supposes. It’s also fair that she slips out at the most random times of day, coming back only when Jaskier’s gone to the academy for lectures or the pub for drinks with his colleagues. All fair and good. He catches her about once a day which is more than he can say for most of the year. Fair, yes. Nice, even though Yen is rarely, if at all, impressed with his affection for her. A bard can dream.

“Yenny,” he shouts again and whistles to himself as he slides through to the main room. To his surprise, she lounges at his dinner table by the window, one hand curled around a steaming mug, the other holding up one of his most beloved poetry collections (not only because he wrote several of the entries). Her hair falls in rich raven curls that cover her chest, barely concealed by the sheer black dressing gown she wears. It’s the only thing she wears, Jaskier notices, gulping heavily. Yen doesn’t look up from her reading, her lips are pursed and her tone clipped as she replies.

“For every time you call me that, bard, your balls will grow the tiniest fraction until, one day, they will explode, never to grow back.”

Jaskier considers it. Directs his attention downward. They do feel a bit strange, don’t they? But that’s only because he’s thinking about them. Right.

“I shall not be fooled,” Jaskier says, grinning. “But if you so insist, ‘beloved’ will do just as well. I brought you a gift.” Brushing past his dusty bookshelves and cluttered desk, he struts towards the table and drops the carton on it. It lands with a thud and swirls up more dust – how is it this dusty already, Jaskier could swear he cleaned the place, like, last month?

Yen licks her finger to turn the page which makes Jaskier laugh out loud. He rounds the table to glance over her shoulder, but immediately has to retch. There, catching Yen’s precise attention, is Valdo’s vomit-inducing sonnet about his first time taking a tumble with what Jaskier assumes was a professional. It has to be, no self-respecting person would bed the man free of his coin. Jaskier makes a mental note to spread another rumour about Valdo and various sexual diseases, then plucks the book from her hands and lets it drop to the table. She sighs softly under her breath and allows him to put a hand on her shoulder. Is that… does she lean into him? The tiniest bit? Oh, dear.

“That better not be a dress,” Yen says, reaching out. Her fingertips trace the edge of the carton as if she’s in deep debate on whether to pop it open. This is a game they’ve been playing excessively, him bringing her gifts, her making a show of whether to accept them or not. On the few occasions that Yen invites him for a drink or gives the acoustic properties of his lute a small magical boost, Jaskier fails to reciprocate her cool attitude. He’s too in love to feign indifference and it’s not like she would believe him either.

“If we’re using dress in terms of the precise cut it implies then no, no dress,” he replies, thumb rubbing her skin through the slippery material of the gown mostly to work through the tightness in his throat. It hurts sometimes because this farce makes him think she doesn’t want him. Hell, most things Yen does are aimed at making him think she doesn’t want him. But then there are fractions of admittance like this, like when her gravity shifts towards him or he finds her in his rooms, barely dressed, that make him think there might be more there. Jaskier simply has to practice patience.

“Julian, do I seem like a woman easily impressed with shallow gifts of clothes? In case you hadn’t noticed, I have a very particular style.”

“Oh, I noticed. Trust me, Yenny, you are very much one of a kind,” he replies, mesmerized by her fingers dancing on the cardboard. She loses no time in jabbing back.

“And yet you revert to common courting techniques? That’s pathetic and you know it.”

“Bold of you to assume I am courting you.”

“Bold of you to claim you are not. If I remember correctly, the last time Geralt was with us you got drunk off your ass and asked him for his permission to woo me. Which was sweet but not at all his place to allow. Then you continued to exert yourself into my life on every possible occasion with flowers and picnics and awful love songs. How else am I going to interpret all this?” Yen asks, craning her neck to look up at him from under dark lashes. Gods, she is gorgeous.

“Touché. But do not think I would waste the efforts of my best tailor on just anyone. This is advanced courting, dear.”

“I fail to see its distinguishing qualities.”

“The difference is that these clothes are hardly a gift and more a means to an end.” Jaskier winks which has her eyes narrow, fall back to the carton.

“You want to take me somewhere” Yen asks and, of course, she untangles his intentions immediately.

“Not just somewhere. My cousin’s forwarded me an invitation to a ball put on by some countryside nobleman or other. His work keeps him in Kerack so I’m to go in his stead. That is to say, I’d hoped you would go dancing with me.”

Yen looks up once more and Jaskier starts a little. He will never get used to the vibrance of her violet eyes, how they see through him. Once, she said it took no effort at all to pick at his thoughts, that she always feels as though he’s screaming them right at her. So, he does.

Please, he thinks, mouth twitching into a soft smile. Please, just this once. It would mean the world to me.

Yen huffs a small laugh and shakes her head, then draws the box towards her. Inside, she finds a slim-cut blouse made from the finest black cotton in the city, complete with white lace trim down the front and flaring out at the cuffs and collar. With it, Jaskier had the tailor make a white corset belt and a pair of deep black pants that have applications of the same lace. It would look precarious, almost edgy, on anyone else, but on Yen… the thought alone makes Jaskier’s chest tighten with adoration.

“Jules, this is beautiful,” Yen murmurs as her fingers trace the line of the seams on the blouse. Jaskier puts his other hand to her shoulder and holds on for dear life as his ear twitches. Was that? Did she just? Oh, how he itches to make a quip about the nickname. Because it’s funny, yes, but it also gives him palpitations. He feels like a lovesick puppy trying to befriend a wild cat. Which also means that any violation of trust can ruin what they have. It’s just so fucking precious, this whole affair, and if he were on the outside of it, he would squeal in delight and write a whole novel about it. He still might.

“I’m glad you like it. And it will look absolutely stunning on you. You will look stunning in it. Ah, not implying that you don’t usually look stunning. What I am saying is, the other attendees will be stunned.”

“You’re ridiculous… and stupid too. Are you certain you want to take me to the ball? I’m not exactly popular with the local nobility.”

“Quite the tragedy,” Jaskier says and because he feels daring, he bends down and kisses the top of her head. Then, he saunters over to the stove, pours himself a mug of tea and takes the seat next to her. “And yes, I am certain. In fact, there is nothing I’d love more. Let the people talk.”

“I don’t give a shit,” Yen says on another sigh. “Not about what they say or think or do.”

“Which is part of what makes you so damn sexy.”

Yen rolls her eyes and folds the clothes back into the carton.

“These are lovely, but I will not wear them to the dance,” Yen says. Which means she will go with him at least. It’s not enough, Jaskier is dying to see her wear what he picked out, dying to show the world that such a brilliant woman would choose to spend the evening with him. Most of all, he wants to make her happy. “Trust me on this. You have a reputation to worry about and bringing me along already risks that. Bringing me along in that can and will mess with your career.”

“Trust me, when I say that it won’t matter. I’m already famous and folk love to gossip about famous people. Probably more than they love my songs. I could imagine worse truths to be spread about me. Besides, didn’t you just say you don’t care what people think about you? Why then would you worry about what people think about me?”

"Well I never," she says, but her lips soften into a smile and her hand rises to fiddle with her pendant. Jaskier gently pries it off and brings her knuckles to his lips.

"I don't care either," he whispers. "I just want to go dancing with you."

"I'll portal to my rooms in Kaedwen and get one of my old dresses.” Her face is all smiles, but an edge has stolen into her voice which makes her sound forlorn, sad even, and her eyes flicker over to the folded clothes in the box. Jaskier’s throat tightens.

"Why are you so stubborn? It’s obvious you want to wear them. You don’t need to start giving a fuck now.”

"I'm trying to do something for you here, Julian. I don't usually go out of my way to attend stuck-up parties with peacocks such as yourself."

“Please,” Jaskier says. He still holds her hands in both of his and because he has no shame, and because this really does mean the world to him, he sinks off his chair and onto his knees before her legs. Yen’s eyes widen a fraction. “For me.”

-----

They dance. Oh, how they dance. Jaskier always considered himself a great dancer, he has music in his veins and has flirted and whirled his way through every ball room and banquet hall on the Continent, and it’s clear that Yen is no stranger to this art either. They are exuberant, relentless, they laugh and pirouette and demand their ground, much to the detriment of those with lesser skills. The lack of a dress doesn’t subtract from their flair, if anything, it allows for a broader range of motion

"The only way we could draw more eyes is if we'd brought Geralt along,” Yen giggles. Fuck. She’s so carefree it brings tears to Jaskier’s eyes.

"Gods no," he laughs. "He would ruin all the fun with his growling and brooding. If you're looking for more attention however..."

"Jules-"

Jaskier twirls her and, in that motion, catches her around the waist and dips her low, pressing a chaste kiss to her lips which are parted on a yelp. Before he can tug her up again, her hands come forward to cup his face and she presses into him, grins into the kiss.

“You’re absolutely ridiculous,” she whispers.

“Admit it,” Jaskier drawls as he brings her back upright and they fall into an easy basic waltz, closer to each other than the dance strictly necessitates. “You love me.”

“That is awfully presumptuous of you.” But she laughs, and kisses his cheek, and Jaskier thinks that maybe one day, she will. “Don’t bet on it, bard.”  

[obeyme-kaidii-writes]

Could I request an Asmo angst with fluff fic where MC is feeling insecure and questioning why Asmo loves them and Asmo comforts them? If you feel comfortable writing for him, of course, I know you said that you mainly write for Mammon and Levi 😁

Thank you for sending this request. ❤️ This is my first time writing a full length story for Asmo, but I think I did a pretty good job of capturing his personality. Please let me know what you think. ❤️

Perfect

Asmodeus x gn!MC

Words - 1724

Content warnings - some angst, lots of comfort and fluff

Prompt/Inspiration - anonymous request

Summary - Asmo asks you to be his date to a ball at Diavolo’s Castle, but you have some doubts about why he wants to be with you at all.

AO3

This had been such a stupid idea. Really stupid. How had you ever let him talk you into this? You should have seen this coming from a mile away. Or perhaps you did. Perhaps you knew exactly how this would all play out when he invited you to this ball, but decided to push those thoughts aside and keep living in your fantasy world for just a little longer.

You had stepped aside for just a moment to get a drink. And one moment was all it took. When you turned back around, there was Asmodeus just as you had left him. But as you took another step closer you saw that he was not alone. In fact, he was surrounded by a small group of very handsome demons, of all genders.

If he had been just talking, you don’t think you would have minded as much. At least, that’s what you tried to tell yourself. But he wasn’t just talking. He was laughing and smiling with his charm dialed up to 11. Everyone was mesmerized by him. And who could blame them?

You had never met someone as beautiful as Asmodeus. And it wasn’t just his beauty that drew people to him, though he always seemed to think that it was. He was attentive, thoughtful, considerate. If you needed something, he always seemed to know before even you did. Whether that was a new bottle of shampoo or a hug, he always knew. He pampered you and spoiled you, and you did the same for him. Hour long baths where the two of you take turns washing one another’s hair and massaging away all the day's stress weren’t uncommon. And you frequently fell asleep in his bed just so you could feel his fingers running through your hair in the morning.

But none of that seemed to matter right now. Right now all you could see was Asmo surrounded by a group of beautiful demons. And he just looked like he belonged there. You looked down at your own clothes, the exquisite, tailored outfit that Asmo had picked out just for you. It had seemed like such a good idea to let him dress you up. But all you could think about in that moment was how utterly foolish you felt. Lipstick on a pig, you thought.

And so you excused yourself, slipping into one of the many empty rooms that lined the halls of Diavolo’s castle. You didn’t want to let yourself cry here. You knew it didn’t matter how quiet you tried to be, someone would hear you. Probably Mammon, in which case all hell was sure to break loose when he’d turn on his brother for leaving you all alone like that. But it wasn’t Asmo’s fault. He hadn’t done anything wrong. He was simply being himself. His wonderful, perfect, sweet self. So you choked back your sobs, desperate to remain hidden.

Why had Asmodeus even brought you here anyways? Why did he insist on you being his date? He could have chosen from any number of demons. So why did he choose you? There wasn’t anything particularly remarkable about you. You didn’t have any special skills. You could sing a little, but who couldn’t? You could draw decently enough, but what did that matter? You didn’t excel at anything. You were plain. Simple. Ordinary.

And he was all the things you weren’t.

As your thoughts continued to turn darker and darker, you didn’t notice when a slender figure slipped into the room. You didn’t see them sit down beside you. And you weren’t expecting it at all when you suddenly found their arms wrapped around you. But as soon as you were in their embrace you knew exactly who it was.

“Why are you all alone here?” Asmodeus whispered into your ear.

“Oh just a bit tired I guess. All that dancing got the better of me. You know, being a human and all. Looks like I just can’t keep up.” You tried to laugh it off and make excuses for yourself. You didn’t want him to worry. You didn’t want him to feel guilty. There was no reason he should feel guilty when the problem lay entirely with you.

“Sweetie, you know you can’t lie to me. Tell me what’s wrong, hmm?” Asmo gently cupped your cheek with one hand and turned you to face him. You averted your eyes and refused to look directly at him, but you could still feel him staring at you, which only made you blush in shame. What were you even supposed to say to him? How could you possibly explain?

“I...I...um…” as you struggled to answer, Asmo rubbed your back soothingly. Gentle circles to help coax your troubles from you. He hated seeing you cry. The sight always broke his heart. He tried so hard to keep you smiling and to make your life as peaceful as possible. He happily would have pampered you all day every day if you let him, but you always insisted on returning his affection with your own. And he adored that about you.

Asmodeus had received plenty of gifts over the centuries. And more than enough attention. But it was always for some purpose. There was always a reason behind their actions. From simple things to just wanting him to pay attention to them, to more calculating things like trying to win his favor.

He wasn’t used to people doing things for him for no other reason than to make him smile. But you did. You were so completely selfless. You weren’t scheming or plotting when you’d give him a gift or pay him a compliment. You were sincere. Genuine. You told him he looked beautiful, because you truly believed it. You said you loved him, because he made your heart soar. You hugged him often, because you wanted to make sure he knew he wasn’t alone.

“It’s ok dear, just take your time. I’ll listen.”

“I um...I just felt...out of place. Like I didn’t belong. Social anxiety I guess.”

Asmo knew what you looked like when you were anxious because there were too many people or too much noise, and that didn’t look like this at all. This was something deeper. Something that had taken root deep inside your heart and wouldn’t be fixed by a simple change of scenery.

“But there’s more to it than that, isn’t there?” he said, keeping his voice low and soft.

“Yeah…”

“Go on.”

“...why did you choose me?”

“Choose you?”

“For your date. For this Ball. For anything really. I just can’t figure it out. And I...I look around and all I can see are the amazing people, well demons, that you know...and I’m just...I’m just not…” your voice broke off as you pulled away from Asmo’s hand and buried your face into your arms again.

Asmodeus wasn’t sure how to respond to that. He always told you how wonderful he thought you were...did you not believe him? Did you think he was just buttering you up to get something from you?

“So you think I’ve just been...lying to you this whole time?”, he asked.

“No! no! Of course not!” you almost shouted, as you snapped your head up to look at Asmo. How could he say that? That’s not what you meant at all.

“I just...when we are alone, it’s easy. It’s just us. But when we are out, like now, it’s...it’s hard…I feel like I’m the odd one out and I can’t figure out why you want to spend time with me in the first place. And I just keep waiting for the day when you finally figure out just how boring and plain and useless I am. You might not realize it now. But you will.”

“What makes you think I don’t already know?”

“What…” tears started to gather in your eyes again. Had he really already figured it out? Was this it? He was finally tired of babying you?

“Don’t look at me like that. That’s not what I meant,” Asmo replied, his smile gentle and kind, “I mean I know what those things are that you think you lack. I already know what you think are your flaws.

I don’t see them that way, though. I know I say all the time that I’m the most beautiful being in existence...but do you want to know the truth?

I think you’re far more beautiful than I am. Your soul shines brighter than any I’ve ever seen. You’re kind, and honest, and selfless.” Asmo leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“And you want to know something else?”, he asked, cupping your cheek again, wiping your fresh tears away with his thumb. You nodded slowly, unable to form the words needed to answer him.

“You see me. Really see me. You don’t get distracted by my looks. You aren’t affected by my charm. You just make me feel seen. Really and truly, seen. And no one has ever done that before. And I doubt anyone ever will again.

You might think you’re plain, or boring, but I don’t see it that way. There is no one else I’d rather spend my time with. No one else better suited to be at my side.”

By now you were crying hard, your vision so blurry with tears you couldn’t even make out Asmo’s face even though he was right in front of you. All you could do was reach towards him and let him pull you into a hug, tucking your head under his chin. Just a moment ago you were trapped so deeply in your own thoughts you regret ever leaving the house. But now? You were the happiest being in all three realms. You had someone who understood you and knew all the right things to say. You had never felt more loved than you did in that moment.

Asmodeus gently held you as you cried the last of your tears. And when your breathing had finally calmed, he spoke again.

“Now what do you say we go get you cleaned up so I can show everyone just how lovely my date is and what a perfect couple we are?”

You gave Asmo a small laugh as you pulled away, looking him in the eyes, a warm smile spreading across your lips.

“Yeah, I would like that.”

[razberryyum]

TGCF donghua Episode 5 Thoughts (SPOILERS!)

Welp this is definitely my favorite episode of the donghua thus far. Holy crap where to even begin??? I rewatched it five times already to make sure I caught every little detail, but I'm sure I still missed something.

Ok first of all, couples fixing each other's hair is a super big soft spot for me, I love seeing that! I think it's so freaking adorable and sweet and domestic. Hell, this whole episode was so freaking adorable and sweet and domestic! It was so difficult deciding which moments were my favorite since I loved so many of them!

But before I get to any of that, I have to say, I am officially in love with this man.

Gawds that look literally made my knees weak. Like, I kinda already loved him the first moment we saw him in the first episode (I mean, is it supposed to be a big secret who he is? Putting aside I already know from just being in the MXTX fandom, I think the donghua's been pretty blatant about his dual identity. Maybe it was easier to hide in the novel). I knew it wouldn't take much for me to love San Lang, I do have eyes after all, but the more time we spend with him the more I am just UTTERLY in love with him. I love his smiling eyes, his sexy aura, his personality, but I especially love the way he looks at Dianxia.

I literally just love watching him watching Xie Lian. I can totally feel his love and devotion. It's like I can't take my eyes off of him because his love for Dianxia is like a magnet drawing me in.

Likewise, I also love the way Dianxia can't seem to keep his eyes off of San Lang either.

And I really appreciate how the donghua plays it off as Xie Lian trying to figure him out, trying to determine if he's the Ghost King. I'm sure he sincerely is doing that but it's also obvious he is just fascinated by this man as well. And we know he thinks he's good looking thanks to his fortune telling attempt.

I just about freaked out when this happened cuz I couldn't believe it. Look I know bros can share a bed and there's nothing untoward about it...

...especially when they keep a respective distance apart. But there was just such a heavy air of sexual tension leading up to it that there was almost no way not to overreact to them sharing a bed straw mat. I mean, after all just a few moments ago, THIS happened.

What was THAT all about?? 😂 What did Xie Lian think San Lang was going to do?? Am I wrong to think naughty thoughts?? I can only work with what they give me.

But given what little I know about their history, I'm puzzled by why San Lang seems almost sad at times when I would expect him to be nothing less than ecstatic. For example, when Xie Lian offered to share his bed with him, I thought San Lang would be overjoyed, but instead as can be seen above, he looked sad. Someone had explained that he was sad over the state of Dianxia's living conditions, which I can understand, but then felt like he should still be a little happy about sleeping next to the one he loves.

Then there was also this curious moment before that:

One would think he'd be totally excited about having physical contact with with Dianxia, but he broke off the contact almost immediately and seemed distraught over it. UNLESS, I was supposed to read that as San Lang forcing himself to break contact in order to control his desire for Xie Lian? That just that little physical connection was already too much and he felt overwhelmed? Hence the trembling lips?

I think I'll go with the second option instead. Hotter that way. And if I'm way off base either way, don't bother to correct me. After all, half the fun in watching without reading the book yet is finding out the answers on my own and seeing how wrong or right my guesses and interpretations are.

Such as, Hua Cheng's eye. San Lang mentioned he guaged it out himself... I'm guessing it had something to do with him failing Dianxia in the past so he plucked out his own eye out of anger? Or was it a sacrifice on behalf of Xie Lian?

And then his ashes...I can't wait to find out if he already gave them to Xie Lian in the past without him knowing it, maybe Dianxia unknowingly even has them on his body now in some portable form, or he will be giving them to him in the near future.

Another thing I'm dying to find out about their relationship is how come Xie Lian has no memory of Hua Cheng or San Lang. Seems like there's some memory loss overall on XL's part based on some of the other gods' reaction to him. I mean, I guess HC could have been just a devotee from afar, but that would be, what, 800 years worth of one-sided love? Damn. Or is that actually the beauty and mystic of HuaLian's love?

His words melted me. I am already a puddle of goo over HuaLian and I barely know anything about them. I hope I'll survive the emotional impact once I truly learn the entirety of their history.

Also can't wait to find out more about his curse mark. Based on San Lang's reaction, I can only guess it had to do with him or he is just upset he couldn't stop it from happening.

Again, please do NOT tell me. I really look forward to finding out on my own...either through the donghua when they get to it or by reading the book when I finally get my shit together. I need to earn my worthiness of being able to worship at Dianxia's altar.

[tothemeadow]

Commisioned by @the--samsquantch​

Art originally done by @ y_yyyama on twitter

Agatsuma Zenitsu x OC

- Even after Momo has turned into a demon, Zenitsu still sees her as the wonderful human being she once was. - 

warnings: slightly NSFW (not explicit) 

words: 1.2k

-

“Gods, please, have mercy on us!”

“Mama, no!”

“You need to run! Go, get out of here!”

“Papa!”

The screams. Those damned screams that always haunt her dreams, creep in from the deepest crevices of her mind. They’ve been getting worse, Momo’s noticed – now that her memory is slowly coming back to her, she wishes it would just stay away. She doesn’t want to remember the havoc she wreaked, the countless lives she took, the blood she spilt.

After all, there’s no saving for the damned.

It’s at these blood-curdling moments when she thinks of him, the glorified beast that turned her into such a monster. She can still picture the three sets of eyes boring into her, her the deep voice telling her to try again. If only she had run away, saved herself, she wouldn’t have to suffer the way she does now. Someday, she’ll make Kokushibou regret everything he’s ever done – she swears it.

A light knock at the door stirs Momo away from her thoughts. A golden, fiery light floods the cramped space as the door to the wooden box cracks open; Zenitsu’s friendly face comes into view, then, his long ponytail swinging as he cranes his neck.

“Hey, Momo, are you awake?” he starts, voice soft. A smile slowly spreads over his face as Momo sleepily blinks at him. “We found a spot to camp for the night,” he continues, jerking his thumb over his shoulder towards the fire a couple meters away. “Tanjiro and Inosuke went to go find something to eat – hey,” he blurts, cutting off his own sentence midway, “are you crying?”

Hands flying to her cheeks, it’s only then that Momo realizes she had been crying. Wordlessly, she wipes them away, not wanting to worry Zenitsu even further. “Sorry,” she croaks, voice sounding rougher than usual, “must’ve been a bad dream.”

The expression on Zenitsu’s face softens. “Do you… want to talk about it?”

Even as he says it, Momo can sense the unease rolling off of him; in no way is he Tanjiro, and his track record of comforting others isn’t the best. Still, Momo appreciates the gesture. After another beat of silence, she nods her head. Zenitsu shimmies away, giving Momo enough room to crawl out of the box. Like Nezuko, her skin is painfully sensitive to sunlight; Urokodaki was kind enough to craft another box once Tanjiro explained that another nonviolent demon had joined his little motley crew.

A pang of guilt strikes her in the chest at the thought. Nonviolent, huh? While it’s true that Momo has committed herself to ridding the world of other demons, she isn’t entirely innocent. Once upon a time, she did kill humans. Hell, she feasted on their blood and bodies until she had her fill.

“Come on,” Zenitsu gently urges, extending a hand for Momo to take. He directs her over to the fire, then, promptly sitting on the ground and dragging her down with him. “Now you can sit as close to me as you want, you know?” he says, a delightful giggle following his words.

Granted, when Momo first joined the group, she often found Zenitsu’s clingy, flirtatious mannerisms annoying; now, though… well, it’s nice to know that someone still treats her like a human, not like some bloodthirsty monster.

The two of them fall into a silence, then, the crackling of the fire and lone crickets taking over. From the corner of her eye, Momo can see Zenitsu looking at her expectantly, his mouth pressed into a thin line. He’s waiting for me to say something, she realizes. Oh, if it only it was that easy.

“Hey, Nitsu,” Momo begins, drawing her legs to her chest and wrapping her arms around them, “how come… how come you’re not afraid of me?”

“Am I supposed to be?” At that, Momo snaps her head towards Zenitsu, her eyes wide. Shifting uncomfortably, a light blush adorns Zenitsu’s face as he turns his gaze to the fire instead. “I mean, when I first met you, yeah. But you’re still a person. You think about what’s right and what’s wrong… You’re really kind, too, just like Tanjiro.” He turns back to Momo. “That’s enough for me. I like you a lot, Momo, whether you’re a demon or not.”

To Momo’s surprise, Zenitsu’s face turns bright red. “Wait, wait, don’t take that the wrong way! I mean, totally! You’re gorgeous, don’t get me wrong, and it’s not like I wouldn’t take your hand in marriage or anything-“

“Nitsu.”

Zenitsu clamps his mouth shut. Panic fills his eyes – he’s said too much. Momo sighs and reaches out toward him, a clawed hand patting the top of his head. Something that sounds suspiciously close to a whine bursts from Zenitsu’s throat. Just like that, the panicked gleam in his eyes disappears, only to be replaced by something more… loving.

“I’m sorry,” Zenitsu mutters. “Clearly something was bothering you and I made the situation worse.”

Momo shakes her head. “You didn’t,” she replies, her voice mimicking his tone. “That was really sweet, Nitsu. Thank you.”

Audibly gulping, Zenitsu draws himself a smidge closer. “You think so?”

If she has to be entirely honest, it’s kind of incredible to see Zenitsu acting this bold. Don’t get her wrong, Momo thinks Zenitsu is an incredible fighter, but his cowardice seems to overshadow his redeeming qualities. Still, something about the way he’s looking at her right now has her heart setting alight and a pleasant warmth growing in her belly.

It’s hard to tell who moved first; it just happens so fast that it’s hard for Momo’s heart to keep up, for her sense of reality to stay attached to her consciousness. Zenitsu’s weight on top of her is comforting, to say the least. He’s warmer than expected, his calloused hands running through the inky strands of Momo’s hair, brushing against the edge of her face and her horns. His lips taste of peaches, delightfully sweet and inviting. It nearly drives Momo to hunger, but it’s different from the bloodthirst she experiences.

“Momo,” Zenitsu groans, voice rich and throaty. She feels her insides squeeze at the honey dripping from his voice – the way he says her name is ethereal, and she’ll be damned if she couldn’t hear him say it like that again. “I meant what I said,” he continues, pulling away and pressing his forehead to hers.

He’s beautiful like this, ponytail curtaining one side of his face while the firelight illuminates the other. His golden eyes seem to glow, yet it’s difficult to see his irises past his blown-out pupils.

Momo swallows. “I know,” she mutters. “Just… Just kiss me,” she hurries, clutching Zenitsu by the haori and yanking him back into another passionate kiss.

He holds her close as fucks her, lips skimming over every inch of skin that he can reach, murmurs of how much he adores her mixing with their heavy breathing and the smack of skin against skin. This is what making love is like, Momo thinks. She feels safe, loved.

For now, the nightmares that plague her consciousness are a thing of the past, and it’s all because of Zenitsu.

“Thank you,” she murmurs as he lovingly kisses her neck, “thank you.”

[tony-is-my-daddy]

Hi guys! So this is my 1000th post on this blog. I cannot express how thankful I am to all of you who have followed me and still read and see and like all of my stupid posts. I see all of your likes and reblogs and tags and comments, it fills my heart with such great happiness, you all are awesome! I'm so glad I get to be in this amazing fandom, it kinda feels like a second family at this point.

Anyway, tumblr freaked out when I wanted to post the whole thing in one, so I will separate it into two parts. Enjoy part one.

Dream a little dream of me

Peter loved his job more than anything. Being a kindergarten teacher was great, he loved being around kids and he knew the feeling was mutual, most of his kids said he was their favorite teacher. He had so many of their drawings and crafts, he kept them in a special folder in his desk at home. It warmed his heart and made a huge smile stretch over his face when he saw another drawing made for him. He loved all of his students equally. Okay, that's what he told everyone, because he wasn't supposed to say the truth. He couldn't tell people he had a favorite, that was rude and Peter wasn't gonna disappoint his kids. But truth be told, the little girl with the chestnut hair and the sparkly brown eyes and pretty smile was his favorite one of them all.

Morgan Stark, the daughter of a single mother, famous CEO's of Stark Industries and ex-lovers, Pepper Potts and Tony Stark. Morgan had only been Peter's student for a month and she already managed to get into Peter's heart with her charm and her smile. During those first four weeks of the school year, he hadn't had a chance to meet the girl's father. Obviously, he knew who it was. Everyone did. But Peter was so excited to see the man because honestly, Tony Stark had been his biggest celebrity crush for as long as he could remember. The thirty-five years old genius was not just smart and rich, he was also very handsome.

So it was understandable if he forgot how to breathe for a second when he was just reading something while the kids played around, waiting for their parents, and Morgan suddenly yelled out in that angeling voice of hers, "Daddy!"

Peter's head snapped up. He looked at the man at the door as he leaned down and picked up the small girl, kissing her forehead before he sat her on his hip. Peter's jaw dropped and he just stared. Tony was... wow. He was so hot, even more so up close than he did in all those pictures and interviews Peter had seen him in.

"Daddy, look, there's Mr. Parker. He's the nicest teacher ever!" Peter had no idea how to react. He moved to stand up, but then sat back down again, thinking it would be too much. But when the older man approaced him, he stood up anyway.

"So you're the teacher this little one has been telling me about lately. Hello, I'm Tony Stark," the man said with a smile - wow, so that's where Morgan got her smile from - and reached out a hand for Peter. It took a moment for him to process what was going on, but then he shook Tony's hand with an awkward laugh.

"I know, sir. I'm Peter. Parker."

Tony smiled and let the handshake last for a second or two longer than a normal handshake would, but Peter didn't mind.

"Go collect your stuff, babygirl," Tony said and set Morgan down to run back to her classmates and collect her backpack. Then, his attention turned back to Peter, he was now smirking. "Well, Mr. Parker, my daughter seems to love you very much."

"Oh yes, I love her too, you know. She's such a sweet little girl. She became my favorite student recently." He added that last thing quietly so that the rest of the class didn't hear it.

"Oh really?"

"Yes, of course! She's very nice and smart, she probably got that from her dad."

Peter only realized what slipped from his mouth when he saw Tony's lips stretch into a grin. "You think I'm smart, Mr. Parker?"

"Obviously, you're a literal genius, sir. The smartest person of our generation."

"That's very flattering, Mr. Parker. Thank you."

"Please, call me Peter, sir."

"Then you should call me Tony."

Was this flirting? No, there was no way. Right? Tony Stark could've got anyone, lingerie models would hang off his shoulders if he just asked them to do so, so many people wanted to get him and out of them all, why oh why would he choose Peter Parker?

"O-okay. Tony," Peter said, his voice a bit shaky, unsure. Just then, Morgan appeared next to her father, clutching the straps of her Iron Man backpack with her little hands.

"Can we go now," she asked.

"Of course munchkin. Give daddy that backpack, there you go. Say goodbye to Mr. Parker."

"Bye Mr. Parker," she waved as they walked towards the door hand in hand.

"Bye Morgan," he waved as well with a smile. That little girl was so adorable.

The next day, Peter was not expecting Tony again to come collect Morgan, but it looked like neither did Morgan.

They were outside on the playground when Tony walked through the gates and Morgan frowned at her from the sandbox. "Daddy? Why are you here? Where's mommy?"

"Mommy's busy, Morguna. But I'm here, aren't you happy?"

"I am!"

Tony laughed, oh, what a sound. "Alright then, little bug, go get your backpack."

"Yes daddy!"

She was up soon, running through the playground to go back in the building, both Tony and Peter yelling after her to slow down. They looked at each other and laughed.

"We meet again," Tony said, taking a few steps closer towards Peter.

"Looks like it," he said, still smiling.

"How was she today?"

"Oh amazing, just like always. There was a little misunderstanding when Lori over there tried to take one of her toys, but we worked that out eventually."

"Great to hear that," Tony said. He took another step forward. They were now a bit closer than Peter should've been with one of his students' father. "I've wanted to ask, by the way, how old are you, Peter?"

It caught him off-guard a little, usually his kids' parents didn't ask how old he was. They asked about how their children behaved, obviously, but never about Peter. Why would he care about Peter?

"Oh I'm twenty-five, sir. Tony, sorry. Um... why are you asking?"

"I was just curious." Another step forward. Peter's heart was now starting to beat a little faster. "Are you, by any chance, interested in men? Because... I'd like to grab a coffee with you sometime, of course, only if you'd like that."

Well, if the age question caught him off-guard then imagine Peter after that. His eyes widened and he crossed his arms so he could pinch the skin on his upper arm unnoticeably, just to see if he was really not dreaming. But no, Tony Stark still stood in front of him, expecting an answer from him.

Peter swallowed, suddenly noticing how dry his mouth was, before he cleared his throat to speak up. "Like- like on a date?"

"Yes, pretty much. I don't really know if there's a rule against that but... I'd like to take you out sometime. If you want to, that is."

"Well, yeah, yes, sure," he said after a little hesitation. What the hell was he hestitating for? This was Tony fucking Stark himself! "When?"

"Well, here's my number," the billionaire said as he fished his phone out from his pocket, and so did Peter. His hand was shaking a little from how excited he was, which he hoped Tony didn't see. They looked at each other, Tony smirking a little when he asked if he can say it. Peter nodded and the older man told him his number and Peter wrote it in his contact list, naming him Tony Stark with all caps because how crazy was that?!

"Daddy, look, I drew something for mommy!" Morgan's voice startled them again and Peter put his phone away quickly.

"Very beautiful baby, she'll love it."

"I didn't draw anything for you," she said with a little pout.

"That's okay, my love, you'll draw something tomorrow," Tony said with a fond smile as he took ahold of Morgan's little hand.

"But mommy said he'd come for me tomorrow."

"Oh honey, I think mommy will be busy tomorrow as well." Tony glanced at Peter and winked before they turned around and walked through the gates, getting into a black car right outside. As they drove off, Peter's finger started to itch for his phone right away.

He didn't see Tony for a few days after that, even though he said he'd come for Morgan the day he gave him his number. Peter started to worry, thinking it was his fault, that he scared him off. It's been four days, including the weekend, and the older man didn't even try to call him.

Fuck, he didn't even get Peter's number! What if he was waiting for a text? Oh God, Peter was so dumb!

He then and there stopped planning tomorrow's classes and he grabbed his phone, opening the chat with Tony. His thumb danced over the screen for a few minutes, trying to decide what to write, trying to think of something nice and sweet, maybe a bit cheeky to make Tony smile. He wrote and deleted. Wrote and then deleted. Until he decided to just stick with the essentials, and he wrote a //very original// text.

Peter: Hi, it's Peter.

Peter: Parker.

He waited for a few minutes, anxiously staring at his screen for a while before he put it down and decided to make himself a tea to distract himself. He walked into his kitchen, filling the kettle with hot water and putting it on the stove to boil. And while his hands were occupied, his mind could do nothing but wander back to that man. He thought back to that day when he asked him out, when he stepped closer and closer to Peter, close enough to touch but he never did. He was too scared he'd come off as weird or eager if he touched him. After all, what kind of teacher touches his students' parents a day after meeting for the first time?

The water boiled soon and Peter poured some in his huge, colorful mug, placing the tea filter in it, a teaspoon of sugar and then he was back in his living room, grabbing his phone from his desk before he sat down on the couch. He checked if he got any messages. And in that very minute, his phone buzzed, making Peter jump and his phone almost fell out of his hand.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!"

Tony: Well hello Peter, you almost made me think you changed your mind about that date

Peter: No, of course not! I'd still very much like to go out with you

Oh wow, that seemed eager as hell. It dawned on Peter that maybe he should've waited at least a couple minutes before texting back, he now probably seemed so pathetic, like he waited for ten minutes staring at his phone and waiting for Tony to write back. He didn't have too much time to worry about that, because another text from Tony came through.

Tony: That's very good to hear, darling. So when are you free?

It was just as quick as Peter's response. Maybe Tony didn't care about how fast Peter texted back to him, maybe he just wanted to talk...

Peter: I'm free this weekend, Saturday if that's ok with you

Tony: That would be good for me too. Around 9 maybe?

Peter: Sounds perfect

Perfect? Why did he say perfect? "That's good," "that'll be nice," "okay," something simpler like that didn't go through your mind, Parker?! What the fuck is wrong with you?!

Tony: Then I'll see you in four days, Peter x

Peter: See you x

They really did that. They really just sent each other x's. Peter squealed a little as he put his phone down, jumping on his seat in excitement. He took a sip of the hot tea that's been resting on his coffee table since he made it, and turned on the TV. A silly romcom was playing, The ugly truth. Peter had seen it before, he liked it, mostly because he found Gerard Butler hot. What? He had a thing for older men.

So he settled down on the comfy couch, a blanket over him and the hot tea warming his icy fingertips as he watched the movie. And while he did, he still thought about Tony, and mentally, he was choosing an outfit for the occasion.

Two days later, on a rainy Wednesday when all of the kids were in the room, playing by themselves during the afternoon, Morgan walked up to Peter as he was talking to another student. She pulled him away and then showed him a drawing of hers.

"Wow, Morgan, that's so pretty! Who are these people," he asked, pointing at the stick figures on the paper.

"That's mommy, that's me, and that's you and daddy."

Peter's eyes widened. "Why me and daddy?"

"Because," she started fiddling with her hands dancing from side to side, "I told daddy I like you very much and he said he likes you too and he said he will take you on a date but I can't tell anyone but I wanted to tell you so please don't tell daddy I told you but he wants to take you on a date."

Peter chuckled, ruffling her brown hair. She looked so much like Tony. "It's okay, little one, I'm sure daddy won't be mad you told me. But don't tell anyone else if he doesn't want you to, okay?"

"Otay!"

"Will you go back to playing now?"

"Yes but I want you to have the drawing."

"I'll keep the drawing," he said with a warm smile and Morgan giggled happily before skipping away, back to her friends. Peter looked at the drawing for quite a while as he walked back to his desk, sitting on top of it. It was like any drawing done by a small child, but this was... somehow different. His kids often drew him and then gave the drawing to him, but this wasn't like that. Morgan drew her father, her mother, herself and Peter. She drew her family... and Peter.

"Hey," he heard a voice next to him and he looked up from the drawing in his hand. It was Tony. "I came for Morgan."

He came in so quietly, not even Morgan was aware that her dad walked into the room. She was playing along with her friends, her back turned to Tony and Peter.

"Hi," Peter greeted when he looked back at Tony.

"What are you looking at?"

"It's a- uh... Morgan drew this for me today." He put the drawing down on the desk facing downwards so that Tony didn't see it. "So you're taking dad duty today?"

"Sort of. Can I see the drawing?"

"Sort of? So you're just picking her up and then dropping her at her mom's house?"

"No, I'm taking her for dinner as well, but full dad duty is when she sleeps at mine. So the drawing-"

"How often does she sleep at yours?"

"Every second week, except for when I have busieness trips."

"I didn't see you last month at all, though."

"No, we left out a month, I had lots of things to do. I've missed her so much."

"I bet you did. I'd miss her too if I didn't get to see her for a month."

"So... can I see the drawing," he asked again.

"Morgan, look who it is!"

"Daddyyy!"

Tony tried to look at Peter angrily, but a smile spread over his face. "Cheeky," he said before turning around and crouching down in front of his daughter. "What's up Morguna? Are you ready for a fun afternoon?"

"Yeees!"

"Grab your jacket and your backpack and we can go." As Morgan ran away, he straightened up again and looked at Peter. "And you... I'll pick you up at 8:30 on Saturday, send me your address."

"Gladly," Peter chuckled.

After the Starks left, Peter turned the drawing up again and stared at it for a couple more minutes until another parent arrived to pick up their kid. He had no idea how to feel about being a part of their family just yet... but he very much liked the idea of Tony Stark.

A few days later, Peter was up at 7am, trying to choose between three outfits for his date that morning. The night before, he went through two facemasks, a hairwash and shaving as well (no, he wasn't about to get to business on the first date, but better be safe than sorry), so for the morning, all he had to do was get dressed and do his hair.

He may or may not had a little breakdown while trying to decide which outfit he wanted to wear, but that's normal, and at the end, he chose a V-neck burgundi shirt with jeans and a jacket. He styled his hair perfectly (thank the hair gods for that, he had never managed to do that before), and panicked when his doorbell buzzed.

"Parker, who is this?"

"Tony."

"You said you'd text before you left and called when you got here!"

"Wanted to surprise you."

"Oh my God, be glad I'm ready anyways, otherwise you'd be in trouble."

Tony laughed. "Alright, Cinderella, come down and show me yourself."

Peter smiled and grabbed his keys and wallet from the kitchen counter before heading out.

"Wow," Tony mumbled when they finally met in front of the building. "Didn't think you could look better."

Peter blushed. "Thank you." The man in front of him was wearing a button up and black jeans, a jacket casually thrown over his shoulders. He looked so effortlessly good, the kind that would get up from bed and just look sexy as ever. "You look great, too."

"Why thank you, angel. Shall we go?"

"Oh yes, of course! Where are we going?"

"I wanted to take you somewhere further away but I saw a very cute café not far away, we could walk there," Tony said as he took ahold of Peter's hand and wrapped it around his arm to lead him. Wow, no one has ever done that to Peter before.

"That's my favorite place!"

"I assumed," Tony commented with a triumphant smirk.

"Since when do you teach kindergarteners?"

"I started about three years ago, I graduated early."

"And why this career?"

Peter chuckled. He often got that question. "I think it's one of the most important jobs, to raise the next generation well. If you don't do it right then humanity will just get more and more screwed up."

"Fair point."

Peter then turned the question around. "And why guns?"

Tony sighed. "It was my dad's legacy. He wanted me to carry on with it, so I did, and I didn't see anything wrong with it until..."

He knew Tony was talking about the time he got kidnapped by the Ten Rings and became Iron Man. That was when Peter really started looking up to the man, he thought it was a very heroic move and he wasn't sure if he'd have had the balls to give up his job to be a superhero and fight people.

"I'm sorry for bringing it up."

"No, it's okay, I just don't talk about this on the first date," he dodged with a joke. Peter laughed and happily changed the subject before it got too much for Tony.

After the short walk, they entered the café and ordered two coffees and pastries for each of them. As they had their breakfasts (at least that's what it was for Peter), they talked about movies, and turns out they were both huge fans of retro sci-fis and action movies. Peter also mentioned that he liked romcoms and after a while, Tony admitted that he "kinda likes them" as well. It was sweet to see this man, a billionaire genius superhero, open up and show Peter his soft side.

But the softest side of Tony came through when Peter asked about Morgan.

"Me and my back then secretary, Pepper had this crazy night. We were both drunk and somehow she just got pregnant. At first we really panicked, but now, we wouldn't have in otherwise. This little sunshine is really the highlight of our lives, she's so chatty and so cute. And I hate watching Disney movies every single night when she's over, but that would be the smallest sacrifice if it meant I could have her over all the time." He showed Peter hundreds of images of her on his phone and Peter's heart melted more and more from every picture. The drawing that the little girl gave him on Wednesday popped into his mind again and now he saw it from a slightly different perspective...

They didn't even notice how quick the time went as they talked, it was like they'd only just met up in front of Peter's building, but when he caught a glimpse of Tony's Rolex, he saw that they've been there for over two hours. He mentioned it to Tony, who laughed and offered Peter a walk home, which he gladly accepted. The older man didn't let him pay the bill either, even though Peter said multiple times that he doesn't expect Tony to buy everything for him. He just insisted.

"I had a lot of fun today, Peter," Tony said as they were heading back to Peter's apartment, this time with not only their arms wrapped around the other's, but holding hands. It felt so natural to hold the man's hand, it made Peter feel somehow... safe.

"So did I. Maybe we could do it again sometime?"

"Oh yeah, I'd like that a lot. Maybe a proper dinner next time?"

Peter raised an eyebrow. "Will you let me pay for at least half of the bill?"

"You're going out with a billionaire and you seriously want to pay the bill?"

"Yes! I'm not going out with you for your money, Tony. I want you to know that. So next time, you'll let me pay."

"If that's what you really want then okay."

When they got back to Peter's apartment, Tony took the younger man's chin between his fingers and tilted it to the side so he could kiss his cheek. Peter blushed deeply and smiled awkwardly. "Thank you so much for today, Peter. I'll see you later."

"Thank you as well. See you."

He watched Tony get in his car before he opened the door, getting in as he heard the engine start. He waved through the window at Tony as he drove away before twirling around twice. Something so unlike life just happened to him and if he was dreaming, he'd give everything for it to never end.

@staticwhispersinthedark wanted to be tagged so here you go!