#i am pacing around in my brain and this small annoyance is tripping me up every lap

[sideblogforcrimpy-plus]

Not being able to get over a small, annoying thing that's happened feels like knowingly tripping over the same uneven ground again and again

[madamedevien]

Infernal Heat

Hey! It’s been a while - I really miss you guys.  Anyway, I know that a lot of you were keeping up to date with my Mammon x GN! Reader fic...while I’m updating it regularly on my AO3, I thought that I’d post the chapters that I’ve got here as well. I’m planning for it to be a 4 chapter fic, but let’s see how that goes! Warnings in tags (both here and AO3) - monster fucking comes into play much more come Chapter 3 and 4. The biggest thanks to @mawwart for their inspiration and @popcherrypop for reading over what I had all those months ago and actually helping me find direction. I’ve got a bigger/cheesier spiel on AO3, but anyway. Fingers crossed that the ‘Keep Reading’ line shows up here...

Chapter 1: Embers

The Great Mammon had woken up in a mood. He'd felt this creeping up for days now and he wished that it would just come and go already. It was hella distracting to have a constant tug of warmth and want in your gut, y'know? And it was annoying to feel the incessant need to primp and to add to the nest of pillows, blankets, sentimental and decorative items that now overtook most of his bed. But he was due a heat cycle. Annoyingly, he felt that it was probably going to settle in properly on that particular day and he'd been wrangled into going shopping by you. And for whatever reason he'd agreed. Not because he had a crush on you or anything. Damn, he couldn't even remember what you two were meant to be shopping for, that's how addled his mind was. Mammon really just wanted to stay put and perfect his nest. Maybe show it off to you. Although he wasn't sure if you'd appreciate the fact that he'd stolen a few items of yours while on laundry duty to tuck into said nest. Or that he wanted to maybe do something kind of nasty to a piece of your clothing. If not you. 

But would you want to? To see his nest? To lay in it, lay with him, to mate with him? He wanted you to. So very, very badly. He didn’t feel like he deserved you but, oh, to say that he wanted you was a vast understatement. Fuck. 

He groaned and threw one of his tanned arms over his eyes. The silveret realised that he was going to have to partially dislodge his beautiful nest to pull out Goldie (he couldn't go shopping without her - the very thought was offensive!) and that he was going to have to get rid of his raging boner before he faced you. 

So into a cold shower he trudged, loudly cursing the whole time.

---

Longest shopping trip in fucking history. 

It seemed like you were in need of freakin' everything imaginable. He wasn't to know that you were actually just taking your time because it'd been a while since the two of you had some time to yourselves. The demon had been acting strangely around you the past few days, although he was completely oblivious to just how weird it’d been for you.

And today, the Avatar of Greed just wasn't engaging. Questions went unanswered, as if he hadn't heard even when clearly looking at you, no boasting or sulking occurred, no bets or harebrained schemes hatched...he didn't even take you up on your offer of Hell Sauce Noodles! The demon was completely disinterested in all of this - the only thing he was interested in was you. He was also trying very very hard not to let his thoughts slip into anything inappropriate. Which was probably the single most difficult thing he’d had to do in all of his many years. Mammon wanted to take your hand and lace your fingers together; to shamelessly nuzzle your cheek in front of everyone on Silent Avenue. The thought made his heart swell. Better yet, if you were mated, he could kiss you in front of the whole crowd before publicly mounting you and-

Damn, it was hard to keep lewd thoughts at bay. He could feel his cheeks burning and looked away when your concerned expression turned to him. 

On the trek home (finally!), he fell into a lazy pace behind you and Mammon couldn’t help it as you walked together. His cerulean gaze raked over the beautiful curve in your neck - the space was perfect. In his mind, he could see how perfectly his head would fit and how the mark he could leave there would only accentuate the beauty of your skin. It’d be a gorgeous brand that would loudly proclaim to all, ‘I am mated to THE Great Mammon, the Avatar of Greed and Second of the Seven; don’t you dare even think to touch me’. The very notion only caused the flush of heat over his skin to worsen and his breath to hitch; he wanted to tear into his flesh to relieve himself of the insufferable and fiery itch.

The same thoughts washed over his brain again and again like some cruel tide, even once you'd passed through the doors of the House of Lamentation.

It took only a scant moment. He didn’t even think. The silver haired demon was aware that he was losing his mind due to his damned biology, but he didn’t realise that he was so far gone that he would do something so stupid. It was only your screech that alerted him to the fact that he had pulled you tight to his chest, that he was actually in the process of sinking sharp fangs into your supple skin. The sudden realisation made him tear off of you in surprise. 

Beel had been the first to burst through a doorway and into the corridor. The redhead stopped dead in his tracks and stared wide-eyed at the two of you; you with your hand clamped over the section of your neck that had been bitten, and Mammon an arm’s length away from with a look of abject horror painted over his handsome features. Stupid Mammon, indeed. The next to burst in was Lucifer, who looked ready for a proper melee. The sound that had come from you had genuinely startled the older brother, not that he’d admit that if asked. As his garnet gaze took in the scene before him, his mouth twisted unpleasantly. “Mammon…” Lucifer’s voice was dangerously low. Mammon shook his head urgently in response, “Nonono, Luci, it didn’t - I mean, yeah, it is what it looks like an’ I didn’t mean ta, but it...it’s not deep enough. Y’know?” The second brother sounded desperate. Mammon anxiously twisted his rings around his tanned fingers and had to fight back the tears that threatened the edges of his vision. He could have hurt you. “Oh, I think you’ll find that it’s more than deep enough.” Lucifer stalked toward you and put his hand on top of the one you were using to cover your wound. “Let me see how much damage the fool inflicted on you”. Mammon could see the frown that pulled at your mouth as you revealed the bite mark to his brother. No proper damage - the indents might linger, but no blood had been drawn; no skin had been broken. 

“It was more from the surprise than pain, Lucifer. I just wasn’t expecting someone to bite me, you know? That’s the kind of thing that I’d expect more from a very hungry Beel.” Your attempt to lighten the mood only made the Avatar of Pride’s expression sour further - but Beel muttered a small, “Fair”. Lucifer sounded positively glacial when he spoke again. “Beelzebub, please take our brother to his room." The Avatar of Gluttony nodded solemnly, gently taking the second eldest’s shoulder. Mammon stared miserably at the floor, guilt clearly written on his flushed face although he couldn’t bring himself to say anything. He didn’t trust himself to. Not after such a stupid stunt. As the other two made their way up the stairs, Lucifer pinched the bridge of his nose. 

This wouldn’t be pleasant.

--

It was no surprise to Mammon that Lucifer texted him shortly after the whole ordeal. He was just thankful that Lucifer hadn’t decided to come up to his room and literally tear into him after biting you. Of all the people to bite in the entire Devildom, it just had to be you didn’t it? Lucifer: Mammon. I have strictly instructed the household that you are not to be disturbed until I have given the all clear. You will stay in your room and I will bring you provisions at regular intervals. If you need anything, you will let me know. Are we clear? Mammon: Yes. Lucifer: Good. He waited, hopeful that Lucifer would provide an update on you. After an eon of waiting (which was actually all of seven minutes) he decided to ask. Mammon: Are they okay?

Lucifer: They are. And they will continue to be so long as you stay in your room and do not venture out. Ensure that you lock your door and remember to take your pheromone blockers as well or the whole house will reek of your mating scent. What were brothers for, if not a good motivational speech? --- Chapter 2: Flames Even with Lucifer’s reminder, Mammon had forgotten to take the pheromone blockers and to lock the door. He’d been far too distracted; worrying about your state of health, whether he’d damaged your relationship beyond repair, still trying to keep the lewd thoughts at bay, his instincts fretting over the piece of nest that had been dismantled earlier… It was a lot to be preoccupied with, okay? Without the pheromone blockers, the corridor outside of Mammon’s room was thick with the sweet perfume of a demonic male in heat. It was rich and cloying, the kind of scent that would cling to one’s clothes much to the annoyance of the other residents (Asmodeus excluded).  Mammon, however, didn’t care. He was too busy now attempting to cool the heat in the pit of his stomach and to regain some clarity of mind. An attempt at sleep had been made once his nest had been repaired and Goldie tucked into her rightful place, the lights turned down low and his clothes discarded to some far corner so that he could crawl into the nest in a comfortable state...but how could he sleep when obscene images of you kept popping into his head?  At first, he had tried to keep some semblance of his mind. The demon didn’t like to lose control during his heats. If he could keep his mind, he would keep to his more humanoid forms - and that was what he wanted. Because if you did, by chance, happen upon him...well. He didn’t want to scare you. Before he allowed himself to spiral into the anxiety of your imagined reaction, he reached for his ridiculously large bottle of lube. If he was going to dwell on the thought of anything, it was going to be how good he knew you’d feel… --- Mammon wouldn’t have been able to say how much time had passed. He had brought himself to orgasm more times than he could count - but it only seemed to just take off the edge. A demon’s heat was never an easy thing, but why was this time around so damn difficult?  Satan would have been able to answer that with ease, the smug bastard; if a demon chooses a mate they will, naturally, be most inclined to couple with said mate for optimal breeding. To not couple with a chosen mate could make a heat worse - but to withhold coupling at all? Well, it would be a foolish endeavour.  The Avatar of Greed hadn’t realised just how he was slipping ; wings and horns had appeared without him even registering and his fangs had dropped to a predatory length (which he only noticed when he had apparently attempted to put a mating mark on a pillow covered in one of your stolen shirts that he’d been desperately rutting against, much to his embarrassment).  His breathing was rough. Mammon was equal parts exhausted and invigorated. He wanted nothing more than to let his knees fall out from under him so that sleep would hopefully take him - he wanted to stalk down the hall and into your room and fuck you senseless. And if Lucifer found out? Well, Mammon would love to see him try to pry you from his arms.  The very thought made him snarl, his grip on his cock tightening. It was enraging to even think that his brother would dare, a thought that had him so preoccupied that he didn’t hear the door click open.  His blue eyes slipped over to you and the wet sound of him furiously fucking his fist stopped abruptly. It was impossible to tell which one of you was redder. This was not what he had been expecting. “Uh-” A rasp of your name interrupted you. “Didn’t Lucifer tell you not to come?” He watched as you nodded dumbly, “Yes”. Heavy breath was the only noise to pass between you several beats. The demon in front of you was wondering whether this was fate; you weren’t running, you looked interested and, fuck, you smelled so good. You smelled aroused and it made him growl; “C’mere then”. The way that you slammed the door and scampered toward him practically had him preening in pleasure. Just as eager, Mammon scrambled over to meet you, flustered yet excited, and hauled you up close to him. He bumped your foreheads together. From here it was easy to see how incredibly blown his pupils were, to feel how desperately ragged his breathing was. You were dangerously close. “Now, see here, I'm gonna give ya one chance to go. ‘Cause if I kiss ya, I’m not gonna be able to stop. I won’t be able to let ya go. You’ll be stuck with me for the whole fuckin’ ride, ya hear?” Holy shit, his voice was so strained. “Then kiss me, you dummy.” No repeat was necessary. Mammon threaded his fingers into your hair, hesitating for only the briefest moment before pressing his lips to yours. When you responded in kind his fervour, his deep rooted greed, quickly followed. He’d wanted to kiss you from day one and not a moment had gone by since  without him imagining it. This felt so incredibly right. But he couldn’t ignore the heat curling in his gut. He needed you, wanted you. And as far as he could tell, despite the dark whispers in the back of his mind saying otherwise, you seemed to feel the same.The way that you returned his greedy kisses, how your fingers had twisted sharply in his hair, how you didn’t seem to mind the messy clicking of his elongated fangs against your blunt teeth as he tried to figure out how best to navigate your mouth in this form - how could he deny that he was wanted?  Mammon's only regret when looking back on this evening with you would be not savouring your body laid bare for him for the first time. His mind was too heat-addled to appreciate it; he was unable to slowly peel off your layers and to have the sentiment returned in kind as he had previously fantasised about. In his mind’s eye, he had a whole big romantic gesture planned if you had decided to sleep with him. Previously, he had imagined how he would make love to you and treasure every moment of it...but alas… Your clothes were quickly stripped from you, sharp fangs nipping at new skin as it was exposed. There was no delicate treatment here and he paid no heed to the sound of torn material. When he next plundered your mouth, it was far smoother than the first time - he was a fast learner, after all.  The only complaint that he had about kissing you was that it muffled those beautiful noises of yours. When he broke the seal of your mouths it was to gently toss you back toward the top of the bed, deeper into his nest and into the comfort of a ridiculous amount of pillows - to properly secure you into his nest. To see you like that felt...good. It felt right. It was clear that was exactly where you belonged. The very image had him growling in satisfaction as he took the opportunity to crawl over your body, his fingers gripping at the meat of your thighs and hips as if ensuring that you were truly there with him. Thankfully, his nails had not yet turned into talons or they would have pierced through you with ease at the way that he handled your flesh.  Mammon had to take a deep breath when he looked at you this time. He needed to make sure that he didn’t hurt you while doing this - it was the last thing in the world that he wanted. It was unusual for the Avatar of Greed to put the needs of others before his own...but you weren’t just some ‘other’. You were you. His very own treasure, his very own mate. Reluctantly, a hand left your body to fish for something buried within the nest. “You’re fuckin’ gorgeous,” He coated his fingers generously in lube, desperate to ensure that he would cause as little pain as possible, “Just fuckin’ perfect”. Two fingers slipped into you as Mammon spoke, his tone low and hoarse. Never had he imagined just how difficult it would be to hold himself back like this, nor could he have been prepared for just how much desire he felt in that moment. The sensation of your hot core wrapped around his fingers had him shamelessly rutting against your thigh, a poor attempt at taking the edge off of his lust.  A human really had no business wrecking him like this. His heat cycles were normally pretty boring - desperate rutting for a day or two and then back to normal life. You had no right to set his skin aflame like this, no right to have him feel like he could cum just from the noise you made once he had three fingers fucking into your heat. The way his blood was rushing in his ears was deafening...and he wanted more. It didn’t take too long for it all to get too much. Even all of the dark hickies that he had furiously littered your neck, chest and shoulders with weren’t enough to distract him from the wet sound of his fingers preparing you or the stunning sounds he managed to pull from you when he got the angle of his hand just right.  Mammon would never admit it, but he kind of missed his target. The point of removing his hand from you had been to slip himself right in. Instead, as he kissed you he rolled his slick cock against your sex...which, to be fair, had felt better than your thigh. And if the sound that you’d made in response was anything to go by, you thought so too.  He liked that noise. A lot. So he rolled his hips against you again, groaning in response to you. Ever eager to please, the greedy demon found a rhythm that you both seemed to enjoy in the interim. “Ya like that, huh?” Mammon wasn’t sure where the cockiness in his tone was coming from when internally he felt so nervous. It was those very nerves that quickly had his hand moving to guide his cock to your entrance and thrusting into you before you could retort. Mammon didn’t realise it would silence both of you.  By no means was he a virgin. The Great Mammon would have it known that he was a proper Casanova type, thank you very much. He just didn’t realise how different it would feel coupling with someone that he truly and deeply loved. The heat causing that deep need to breed the closest thing with a pulse didn’t help things, of course.  It was...incredible, for lack of a better word. Divine. Mammon choked on an Infernal curse once seated completely in you and had to literally bite his tongue to keep an anchor on his self-control.  All of that hard earned control was thrown out the window when his name passed your lips.  There was no hesitation in how his hips pistoned, fucking into you relentlessly. His hands manoeuvred to cradle the back of your knees and he pushed your legs back to allow him more access to your body, his fingers gripping hard enough to bruise. The noises that left him were snaps and snarls of Infernal praise, not that he realised. The only thought on Mammon’s mind was his primal objective of breeding you until neither of you could move ; it didn’t matter whether you could actually fall pregnant or not. No logic or worry clouded his mind with these thoughts. All he could focus on was filling you with his seed until he couldn’t any more, the thought of your stomach tender and round because of his affections toward his mate... Mammon’s first orgasm came with an embarrassing quickness. When he spilled inside of you, his teeth sinking into the tender flesh of your chest, he was quickly filled with a relief and warmth that he hadn’t felt in ages. For the first time since his heat had set in, there was true clarity in his mind. While his natural instincts weren’t completely quelled, it was enough for him to actually think with something other than his adamantly pulsing dick. His relief quickly fell to mortification, the shadows of which were clear on his features when he pulled back to look at you. His cheeks were tinted red both from exertion and embarrassment ; he hadn’t paid enough attention to get you to climax. He was quick to stutter out your name, mouth tripping on the words that were trying to get out of his mouth as his sluggishly content brain tried to supply words just beyond reach. “What, isn’t The Great Mammon going to make me cum?” Your sass fanned the flames in his loins. A playful snarl was made in response, “Oh sweetheart. I’m going to make you cum so fuckin’ hard you black out. You won’t be able to feel your legs by the time I’m done with you”. And so The Great Mammon set to work. --- Mammon hummed contentedly as you lazily played with the hair at the nape of his neck hours later. This was perfection. Strong fingers stroked your thighs as he enjoyed the sensation of you wrapped around his hips, the pleasure of you sat on his lap while cuddled up together in your nest. The demon toyed with the thought of pushing his hips up just to make you gasp from the overstimulation, but decided against it. Although he was loath to admit it, you needed rest - because Mammon had been good to his word, ensuring that you both had more than your fair share of orgasms.  But this was good. The fire in his gut had died down to crackling embers, although he knew it would flare up again soon - but you would be there to help ease him through it. And you even seemed to like helping him out. What was the phrase… ‘mutually beneficial’? Somethin’ like that. His eyes fluttered open when he heard your chuckle. He couldn’t help but wonder if you knew how freakin’ stunning you were when you smiled like that. “What?” When your eyes met his, he was pouting frowning. The laugh that you let out only made his brow furrow more, “I said what. What’s got ya laughin’ like that, huh? You should be out like a freakin’ light by now”. It wasn’t until you replied that he realised how obvious it was, “I didn’t know that demons could purr”. Mammon squawked loudly and attempted to divert your attention - he sounded like a damn motor! It wasn’t fair! He wasn’t even able to control the way he was going off… It was embarrassing. “Well, yeah, y’know, sometimes. We’re incredible ‘n mysterious creatures us demons, y’know! Demons are capable of things that your human mind couldn’t even comprehend! Anyway, ’s not like ’s all the time or anythin’ like that…” He tried to occupy himself and forget about the heat radiating from his face by playing with your hair - but he could feel you smiling against the crook of his neck. “Yeah?” “Yeah.” The incredible and mysterious demon sounded more like a petulant child (well, a purring and petulant child). “So, when do you normally purr?” “I dunno. When we’re happy, I guess?” “Does that mean I haven’t made you happy before?” The way that he spluttered was definitely worth teasing him. “Who said that ya haven’t made me happy?! ‘N besides, this is different!” Even Mammon couldn’t deny that he was now pouting, but he tried to focus on the feeling of your fingers running along his shoulders. It was nice; soothing, even. Until he felt a sharp tug on the back of his neck.  “Ouch! You gotta be more gentle than that!” The look of surprise on your face made him want to curl in on himself. “Mammon - are those feathers?” “Phffft,” The greedy demon rolled his eyes and tried to deflect your query, “Shaddap. You dunno what you’re talking ‘bout”.  When your mouth opened again, he did take the opportunity to thrust sharply into you. At the gasp, he lurched forward with a passionate kiss. Simply to shut you up, of course. No hidden agenda. His pleased purring melted into a deep rumbling, the fire in his belly stoking itself back to life. It was impossible for him not to roll you over to allow him to bask in more of your shared passion. The laughter that ensued, laughter that he was sure was aimed at him, only made his heart swell as much as his cock.

[miizpah]

mine | sakusa kiyoomi

anon asks : listen to this!!! being sakusa bimbo wife, ur so fucking beautiful that whenever ur both at social events for vball, there’s always someone coming up and hitting on u. mr sakusa doesn’t like that ::))) and he can’t wait to get home to punish his wife silly and leave marks that will defo show everyone that she’s taken :):):):)

post timeskip ‼️

tw. degrading, consensual roughhousing, a bit of manipulation.

author note : i am simp for sakusa !! this ask for me hyperventilating into orbit. girl, y/n a little too brave in this one, like miss girl gon ahead and sit down we all know who dom here. and not how there’s only a small part of smut in this, yo, i’m sorry it’s not longer but my motivation for this fic went whoosh. and not me being in the middle of changing up my theme 🙄 and struggling at that.

“Omi-”

One second you had been nodding along to a conversation being held by one of the team’s older PRs, the next second you were being guided away by your husband’s tight grip, your wrist exploding in dull pain as all you could do was follow after him. Praying you don’t trip over your satin gown.

You didn’t understand what exactly caused him to snap, he was always respectful and polite when attending events such as these. They were public appearances the entirety of MSBY had to attend, and he was already tittering on the edge becuase of the sheer number of people and crowds. But, he’d never left an event early, and he never blatantly disrespectful to a staff on his team.

The underground parking lot was empty as you both entered, in search for his car. “How dare you let his filthy hands touch you?”

It made sense then, your mind wandering back to the entire conversation. You had been sipping on a glass of wine with Atsumu and Shouyo by your sides, since Kiyoomi tended to stay away from the crowds, you were the one who would mingle around in his stead. Atsumu had promised to keep an eye on you, like always, and by extension, Shouyo gladly tagged along.

Now, you began to understand the glare Atsumu was giving the PR, and the worried looks Shouyo casted over his shoulders. Now, it made complete and total sense. The man had been flirting with you. You hadn’t notice, your mind was a bit clogged up with Kiyoomi and the way his suit fit him too perfectly, you hadn’t even noticed when he had touched your shoulder.

You barely had enough time to register your surroundings before your harshly pressed against his sleek black car, his hand around your throat and his eyes dangerous. The mere look sent bouts of pleasure and fear coiling around your body, and you only tighten your thighs around the knee pressed between you.

“Omi, you’re hurting me,” You whimper softly, pathetically, tears prickling at your eyes.

“I asked you a question, dumb bitch. I expect an answer.” He spat, eyes glaring angrily into yours. His grip tighten a bit, just enough to tease your airway.

“I’m sorry, Omi! I didn’t realize it, I promise!” You cry, hands coming up and grabbing at his arm. He didn’t move for a moment, eyes boring into your watery ones.

He sighed under his mask, loosen his grip. “Hm, you’re right, my little wife never realizes it.” His hand removes from your throat and cards through your hair softly, he kisses your forehead through his mask. “This is why I have to protect you, too dumb and pretty for your own good. You know that, right?”

“Only for you, Omi.” You mutter, wet eyes staring up at him with a doe like express. “Only pretty and dumb for you.”

He smirked, though unseen. “Yes, you are. Come, let’s get you into the car.”

“Ack! Eight, ‘m sorry Omi.” You whimper, trying to keep as still as possible as Kiyoomi rubs almost lovingly at your burning ass cheek. If you’d thought you were getting away for being a little dumb bitch and not noticing that filthy man’s hand on you, you were wrong. Kiyoomi was clear when it came to you, his beautiful ditzy wife, that no one was allowed to touch you. Not unless he’s permitted it.

“N-Nine! ‘m sorry Omi,” your hands clench the bedsheets in a tight grip, eyes squeezing close as the harsh pain spread around your bottom.

“Ah! Ten, ‘m sorry Omi.” You cried out, happy to finally be done with this punishment. You just wanted to shower, take off your makeup, comb through your hair, and sleep. But the moment you both had entered the house, he’d chased you down the hallway and sprayed you over his knees, bunching your expensive satin dress up to your waist and dealt his punishment.

You stood then, dress falling around your bare ass and legs. You couldn’t walk away, not when Kiyoomi’s large hand yanked you forward. “Did I tell you to stand, hm?”

“I wanna shower,” you whine, trying to pull your arm free. But, he only rose a brow at you. The way he looked at you, as if he knew that you didn’t want to shower, sparked a small amount of anger in your veins. And as a serious as you could, you shot him a nasty glare. “Let me go, Kiyoomi. I want to shower.”

“Watch your tone, angel.”

“Not unless you let me go.”

“Oh? Baby trying to argue?”

You huff in annoyance, trying to yanking your arm his tight grip. “Let me go, Sakusa!” You yell angrily, arm finally breaking free and you walked away then, mumbling angrily to yourself.

If there was one thing you’ve never learned when being with Kiyoomi, is to never turn your back on him when fighting. Not only is he going to get angry, but it will lead to some pretty hard fucking, and your ability to walk tomorrow is gone. But, you never learn, you’re a bit dumb, it’s okay. You both get what you want in the end.

You didn’t have enough time to prepare yourself before you find yourself against the bedroom wall, his large hand entangled in your hair, exposing your neck to the wall. “Who do you think you’re talking too, Y/N?”

“I’m talking to Sakusa Kiyoomi, who else?” Brave? No. Smart mouthing? Yes. Is that a good idea? No. Ten out ten would recommend if you’re looking for good sex. But, right now, you were not looking for good sex, right now, you wanted to shower, you wanted to sleep.

“Your mouth is going to get you into some trouble, baby.” His breath was warm against your ear, and you struggled to hold in the shiver of pleasure. “I’m going to ask you again, and you better answer me correctly. Who do you think you’re talking to?”

You swallow, eyes flickering up and meeting his. The defiance in your eyes were clear. “You.”

He chuckled, “my silly little wife.” He backed away, turning you around then. “I can see that you’re not in the playing mood, right now.”

You stare at him in momentary confusion, this was a new reaction. “W-what?”

He looked at you, “what?”

“But, s-sex?”

“You want to shower, no?”

Yes, you wanted to shower. You wanted sleep. Not sex. That’s what your brain wanted of course, your body wanted Kiyoomi. “No...?”

“No?” His smirk widen almost cruelly. “Too bad, I’m not fucking you after that disgusting man touched you.”

“Omi?!”

“What happened to Sakusa?”

“I-I... No, touch me, please!”

He shook his head, backing away and sitting on the bed. “Sorry, I’m not touching you until you shower.”

Why were you complaining? You wanted this. You wanted to shower, not have sex. Why were you practically begging him to fuck you?

Huffing, you nod firmly. “Fine, I’m showering. And we’re not having sex for a month!”

“Ditzy wife.”

“Two months!”

Obviously, Kiyoomi was a man that knew how to get his way. It always his way or the highway. That had been the biggest deal breaker when you first met the man. He was too... much for you. Too clean, too big, and too mean for someone like you. Admittedly, you weren’t the smartest person in the word, you passed high school but wasn’t smart enough to get into college, but that was okay.

Your mother always said that you should be grateful that you were beautiful, you could find yourself a rich man and be taken cared of. That had been exactly what you did, you ound a man, who was rich, who was handsome, and you thought yourself clever enough to play him. You had been wrong. God, he was mean, so mean, and cruel, but he had emotions, and it was rare to see them, but they were there, and he was taking care of you.

It didn’t take long for you to actually fall in love with the man. And him, loving you. Your family hated him, though. He was a famous, professional athletic. Your parents didn’t believe that to be a good enough job. Your mother wanted you to find a rich, old ceo old to marry, cause lord knows you’ll only ever work at a restaurant or club if you had to fend for yourself, that way when he died, and everything was left in your name, you would be rich, and a ceo.

Even you knew it didn’t work that way. You didn’t care that they didn’t like Kiyoomi, you loved him, and he accepted you, as you accepted him, and that was all that mattered.

But, as you said. Kiyoomi was a man who knew how to get what he wanted.

And, right now, he wanted his dumb little wife folded in a mating press as he fucked into you mercilessly. Your mouth stuffed with his fingers, and your legs shaking as the pleasure rack through your body.

Your moans were muffled, and Kiyoomi stared at you in amusement and lust. “My ditzy wife looks so pretty with my fingers done your throat, and your cunt stuffed full of my cock.” He pushed his fingers down further, and you choke, hands gripping at his biceps in a death grip.

He pulled his fingers away, holding your mouth open before leaning down and spitting directly inside your mouth. “Hold it there, whore. You swallow and you’ll get punished.”

His arms formed pillars around you, his cock dragging against your gummy, fluttering walls in quick strokes. “You’re mine, my wife, my whore. No one else’s, you hear me?” You could only nod, eyes fluttering close. “No one is allowed to touch you, fuck your messy little holes but me, got it?” Your moan is muffled.

“Swallow,” he demanded, and you did as told, swallowing and opening your mouth so he could see. “Good girl,” he hummed, quickening his pace.

Your body was covered in marks, ones that had did the moment he jumped into the shower with you. He left them on your neck, your breasts, your tummy, and thighs, he’d even bitten into your wrist. He didn’t plan to stop until all of your limbs had at least two marks on them.

“Ah, ah, ah, ah!” You moan, hands moving to his back and nails scratching shallowly at his skin. “Omi!” With each thrust, you could feel your stomach tightening and your walls fluttering. The pleasure coursed throughout your body rapidly, his warm breath against your cheek causing shivers.

“C-cumming!” You announce sharply, nails digging into his back as your thighs tense. “P-pull out, I’ll make — ngh! — make a mess!”

Kiyoomi didn’t listen, leaning back and hooking his hands underneath your thighs. His eyes zeroed in on your sopping cunt, watching the way you stretch around him. Your warnings about making a mess went through one ear and out there other.

Your moans grew louder, head turning into the pillows to muffle them. You try to close your legs, anything to minimize the forthcoming of your squirting release. But, Kiyoomi’s hand were strong and he held your legs open as you release over him.

Immediately, you feel a sense of dread forcing your high away. Your mouth formed the words, but your throat gave away when a hard pressure was placed there. Opening your eyes, you were met with Kiyoomi’s dark ones, looking at you as if you were the best damn meal he’d ever had.

He pressed a kiss to your cheek, then your lips before uttering, “keep still, angel, I’m doing this again.”

note — i hate this, i hate this, i hate this, i hate this. i’m literally in the middle of trying to change my theme and writing style and i’m throwing up?? pls, anon, don’t hate me, i tried with this. it’s not a long piece of smut bc i didn’t know if u wanted it, :(

[kkeidawrites]

That Night

Chp. 2

🧙‍♂️🧙‍♂️🧙‍♂️🧙‍♂️🧙‍♂️🧙‍♂️🧙‍♂️🧙‍♂️🧙‍♂️🧙‍♂️🧙‍♂️🧙‍♂️🧙‍♂️🧙‍♂️🧙‍♂️🧙‍♂️🧙‍♂️🧙‍♂️

I take back what I said last night. That insufferable, uncouth, disrespectful, brat has been nothing but a throne in my side and it’s only been three days! Three!

Mother has somehow made it her mission to include Mawu in every single activity I would do during the day. My schedule has been completely altered due to Mother’s meddling.

Now, the moon goddess is following behind me as I headed to my meeting with the generals of Asgard and my father. How delightful.

“I still don’t understand why I must attend as well. I have better things to do than be with you all day.” The beautiful woman spoke up and I rolled my eyes with a sigh.

“I am not happy about your attendance either. And I would recommend you to stay quiet while I speak with the generals and my father.” I say and I hear her bark out a laugh in disbelief.

“Excuse you, I will have you know that I have lead my own army against the evil monster Gaunab. When he killed half of the humans on Earth and force my moon to...to,” I turn to see her eyes glowing a purple color and she closed her eyes, sighing, as she forced herself to calm down.

“I’m not unfamiliar of speaking war games to another.” She says walking past me as I watched her stomp away, her dress swaying behind her. Today she wore a silver dress, that fit her too well. It fit her deliciously. It was already a difficulty to keep my eyes off of her and now that she was wearing this dress, it has become twice as difficult. Clicking my tongue I flicked my cape behind me and followed after her.

Gold doors stood in our wake as we walked closer to the war room. Father had informed me that there was another war on the horizon from the Black Beserkers. It was urgent that we speak on our next move before it was too late.

Two guards stood in front of the doors, spears gripped tight in their grasps and their silver armor gleamed in the sun.

The two guards open the door and we walk in to see all of Asgard’s generals and my father and unfortunately my brother around the gold table that showed all of Asgard’s defense positions and small horses and men that were expertly placed on the maps.

Odin looks up and noticed Mawu and I, then waved his hand over to us both. I took my place by Father’s side while Mawu stood next to Thor who smiled in greeting to her. She nods in greeting with a smile of her own and turns her focus to the table.

Two hours of going back and forth with each general with my father and my brother about which idea was best. I sighed at the endless bickering and noticed that Mawu was looking at the maps before us very intently. Moving a step closer to the table, she moves two of the maps and grazed one finger through both of them.

“What if...” taking one more good look through the maps, Mawu looked up to see the men have their full attention on her.

“What if we used a surprise attack? Gorr is known for wanting one on one fights, yes?” Her question is towards Odin who nods. “I suggest we set him up to bait and then attack him then.” She says and the generals began muttering to one another while Thor turns to her.

“How do you know of Gorr? I have not heard of him going to Midgard.” Thor states. Mawu frowns and clenched her left hand in a fist.

“He had came to Earth almost two hundred years ago and had killed a -ahem- a God and my mother and I decided to investigate it. He took us by surprise, his black dogs took out half of our troops and nearly killed my mother and I. We we were only able to survive when my sister arrived and even with her army did we narrowly win.” Mawu sighs and I raised my eyebrows, quite impressed by her conquest.

Gorr was not an enemy to make light of. He too has been a constant that father constantly struggled to keep contain. I have had my own fights with the infamous God Butcher and he was not a being to be taken lightly.

“Even though we won, it was still a devastating loss to our people and not just our troops...we lost a lot of humans that days as well. Gorr is a monster.” Her eyebrows narrow in anger and turns to Odin with determination in her eyes.

“We must stop him.” She says and Odin pats her shoulder in reassurance.

“We will. And when we do,” he raised his staff to the others who straightened their backs.

“We will place his head on a pike. To show that Asgard shall not be triffled with ever again!” Thor and the other generals raised their weapons in praise and bellowed out a yell in agreement.

I turned my eyes back to Mawu who sighed heavily and left the war room as the others continued to strategize. Seeing as that I was no longer needed, I left as well and made my way towards the library. They can bicker and fuss some more but, I refuse to be apart of it.

As I paced to the library, to my left there was movement going into the gardens and I stopped to peek over a balcony to see the moon goddess walking through the varies pattern of different flowers.

I noticed that she was cradling something in her arms and the trip to the library seemed like a later task. The idea of wanting to know where that spiteful moon goddess is up to, peaked my interest.

Following the familiar path to the gardens, I saw the cloud of black curls and shimmering silver dress sitting under a large tree that was in the middle of the gardens. And it would seem that she wasn’t alone either.

Hiding behind a tree nearby, I shapshifted into a eagle and flapped into the tree above her. Turning my head I glanced down to see that my mother had joined the younger goddess. They both sat on the soft grass and spoke softly.

Third Person POV

Irawo jumps to a nearby flower and begins nibbling on the stem.

“I hope your stay here has been well, Mawu. I promised your mother that I would make sure you were as comfortable as possible.” Frigga says to the goddess.

“Oh yes, Lady Frigga, I am quite content. Although I am trying everything within my person not to strangle a certain God of Mischief.” Mawu sighs to the All Mother who chuckles.

“My son,” she smiles. “He has always been mischievous but, he is a good man. He wasn’t one for fighting like his brother, he became interested in reading and studying, learning magic perhaps far better and faster than any student I have had under my wing.” She smiles with pride.

“He is a remarkable young man, that I am proud to call my son.” Frigga finishes as Mawu noticed movement above them and the familiar gold patch that sat on their breastbone made Mawu’s left eye twitch in annoyance.

“As remarkable as he may be,” Mawu spots a rock by her foot and secretly picked it up.

“He’s still rude and the fact that he is constantly picking at me doesn’t help either.”

“I’m sure as the time passes you two will be on better terms. When it comes to new people, Loki tends to grow on you.” Frigga explains. She then placed a hand on Mawu’s shoulder and the moon goddess looks at the All Mother in question.

“Please be patient with him,” she begins as she smiles at her.

“He’s really not all that bad.” And with that Frigga stands to her feet and leaves the gardens with Mawu contemplating her words until she remembers a certain bird brain camping above her, no doubt listening to her and Frigga’s conversation.

Mawu stands to her feet as well and fixes her dress, making sure to keep the rock in her hand as inconspicuous as possible until she quickly turns to the tree and throws it to hit the eagle.

The eagle (Loki) screeches in surprise and falls off the branch it was perched on and land on the grass in front of her. Slowly, the eagle shifted back to Loki and Mawu huffed, going over to Irawo and picking him up. He groaned from the fall and rubbed his back.

“The next time you easedrop, make sure that your jewelry is hidden better. You were too easy to detect.” She ‘hmphs’ and leaves the God of Mischief to groan in pain.

Later on that night

Mawu made her way to the dining hall around this time, she was just going to eat a bit and then take a couple of snacks back to her room for her and Irawo.

“Mother, you must find a way for her to leave. I cannot take this anymore.” Before she turned the corner where the dining hall was, Mawu pressed herself against the wall and listens. In her view she watched as Loki and Frigga came from another hall walking towards the dining hall.

“Oh, Loki, Mawu is completely harmless-”

“Harmless?! She’s insufferable! It’s bad enough I have to see her almost every hour of the day but, this is too far. Now, I have to deal with her whenever I go to different realms? That is too much of my comfort that you are taking advantage of.” He said to her. Frigga grabs his arm to stop him and Loki sighs as his mother moves to stand in front of him.

“Is it really so bad to have her in your presence?”

“Yes!” He says making Frigga give him a look.

“How about this,” she begins as she moved her son’s arm to allow hers to loop through and they continue walking towards the dining hall.

“If you spend at least three hours with her for the duration of her stay, I will speak to your father about your traveling privileges than just the four realms you are allowed to go to.” She negotiated while her son raised an eyebrow at her.

“You will speak to father? He won’t give me back my traveling privileges just because you asked him.” Loki rolls his eyes while Frigga smirks.

“But, I can my son. I am not the All Mother for nothing.” She pats her son’s arm lightly and Loki gives her small smile.

Seeing that the coast was clear, Mawu made her appearance from around the corner and crossed her arms. It’s not like she was here for her own free will she was just as stuck in this as he was.

“Ibajẹ ẹlẹgbẹ.” Mawu mutters as she paced to the dining hall. Pushing the doors open, the royal family noticed her appearance and Thor raised his goblet in greeting to her.

“Ah, The Great Lady Mawu has arrived!” Thor announces. She smiled at Thor. He was a very loud guy but, he was all around friendly. In the few times they have been together he has always asked her if She wanted to join him on his many conquests on different realms to fight the enemies or in some cases, ‘play with them’.

Mawu’s POV

In spite of being here for the next few weeks, Thor was probably the only thing that has really livened up the place and the fact that Loki didn’t bother me was a great feat as well.

“Hello Thor. Back from your many conquests I see.” I take a seat between him and Frigga.

“Yes, I have returned from the realm Nidavellir. Riding with the dwarves to hunt Biolsïdhs!” He went on to talk about his adventure as a servant placed a plate of food in front of me. I thanked them and took a bite into the bread and cheese.

The feeling of someone watching me made me avert my eyes up to see Loki’s green ones glaring at me. I rolled my eyes at him and turned my head to tune into Thor’s story. It would seem that throughout dinner, Loki’s eyes never left the side of my face and it sent chills down my spine.

Once dinner was over, I walked back to my quarters with a napkin full of carrots and some sweets inside. I was nearly at my room when I saw a familiar being leaned against the wall with their arms crossed. Sighing, I quickened my walk to my door until I felt a whooshing sound and I looked to my right to see Loki now leaned against the wall by my door.

“We are to spend three hours everyday until you leave.” He stated.

“Oh joy,” I reached out to open my door but, my wrist was quickly grabbed by the God before me. I looked at his hand on my wrist then back at Loki, like he had lost his mind.

“Release me-”

“Two in a half more weeks,” he says as he looks in my eyes.

“Two. That is all the time that we have to just spend three hours together. We don’t have to be friends. We don’t have to be allies. As long as you stay out of my way, I’ll stay out of yours.” He says.

“Let. Me. Go.” I grit at him and snatch my wrist back opening my door and going inside just to slam it in his face before he had the chance to speak anymore.

“Fucking asshole...” I mutter and move over to my bed where Irawo was grooming himself. He hopped his way over to me and I placed the napkin of treats on the bed and gave him two carrots where he happily began to eat his treats.

Biting into the sweet bun I managed to snag from the feast earlier, I thought back to what Loki said. Spend three hours with him for the next couple of weeks?! I sighed in annoyance.

“I can’t believe this...just what is Frigga planning.” I muffled into the bun, then moaning because I realized how good it was.

“This is really good Irawo.” I say and the bunny begins munching on his second carrot.

Third Person POV

Unbeknownst to Mawu, Loki laid in his bed slightly fuming on the fact that he now has to deal with that woman much longer than he wanted to. Damn his mother’s meddling. Taking a bite from the carrot in his hand, he hmphed in annoyance.

That insufferable woman was going to be the death of him.

$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$

End of Chp. 2

Ch. 1⬅️

Ch. 3⬅️

Here’s another chapter for you guys! As always thanks for reading and make sure to like, comment and reblog!

See you soon!

[delimeful]

sheer atrocity (4)

warnings: captivity, mild arguing

-

After a brief break to eat and drink, Virgil was on the move. Again.

Considering dusk was quickly approaching and they’d been traveling or intimidating abusive dads for pretty much the entire day, Roman felt the pace they were setting was a little unreasonable.

He wasn’t the one walking it, sure, but he couldn’t help but wonder. Was this guy always so antsy, or was this a special occasion?

And while he was asking himself questions that he wouldn’t get any answers to, how long was the cast duration of this enchantment?

(More specifically, how much longer was he going to be small enough for beetles to look like dogs?

How much longer before Virgil decided what to do with him for real?)

He hadn’t seen the giant stop to recast, which meant that he’d been burning through a continuous enchantment for hours on end. Signs pointed to his magic reserves being massive. Chilling.  

Roman thumped a foot against the side of the jar that rested against Virgil’s side. “Are we wandering around the woods during twilight for any particular reason, or are you just lost and too embarrassed to admit it? Too used to seeing the trees from a loftier position, perhaps?”

Virgil glanced down at him, as though just recalling he was there. Offended, Roman made a mental note to make more of his internal diatribes to external diatribes. The only thing worse than being a prisoner with an uncertain future was being an ignored prisoner with an uncertain future.

“Go back to being quiet, I forgot you were annoying for a second.”

“Absolutely not,” Roman huffed, kicking his feet against the glass repeatedly for emphasis. “The moment we see another human I’m going to scream at the top of my lungs.”

“Oh, because that worked so well for you before,” Virgil said, rolling his eyes.

Roman shifted positions, trying to ease a cramp in his leg. “Haven’t you heard? Third time’s the charm, and personally, I have no shortage of charm.”

There was a short pause, and then Virgil ground to a stop, taking a deep breath.

Instantly, Roman stiffened, eyes locked on the face above him. He’d forgotten himself, making jabs as though they weren’t enemies, as though he hadn’t been trapped, threatened, and used by this monster. It was too easy to pretend, when Virgil did things that were almost decent.

Sure enough, Virgil grabbed the top of the jar and lifted it from his pocket to be eye level. Roman shoved his arms out to keep himself stable, avoiding looking at the long drop below him.

“As useful as your bullheadedness was before, I don’t actually want you to scare the daylights out of the person I’m looking for this time.”

“Yes, well, I don’t want to be the size of a newborn chick, so it looks like we’re both dealing with  struggles in life,” Roman snapped back, because he’d never known when to keep his mouth shut.

Virgil narrowed his eyes. “I could just muffle your jar, you know. I’m magic; I can do that.”

He could? Roman was sort of surprised he hadn’t done so already.

“But,” he continued with a sigh, “I think this one will probably be easier with your help. I’m not great at putting people at ease.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” Roman snorted, and then jerked as the rest of the sentence sunk in. “Wait, hang on. ‘Put people at ease’? There is no way I’m helping you with any nefarious plots!”

“It’s not nefarious!” Virgil shifted his weight, glancing around impatiently. “And it’s time sensitive. Either help me or don’t, I don’t care.”

It couldn’t be that simple, but Roman wasn’t about to pass up a chance to see something other than the interior of a pocket. “Fine, but if I see you doing something evil, I’m not going to stand idly by!” And then, petulantly. “Also, I want out of the jar.”

“As long as you actually use your brain instead of your biases to judge me,” Virgil snarked back, but obligingly pried off the lid and tipped the jar on its side. Rather than pull or tip Roman out, he held his hand to the lip of the opening and waited.

It was almost more nerve wracking to climb into a giant hand willingly, but Roman managed it. The jar was whisked away, and Roman lifted to neck level. He stared blankly.

“Going to get off anytime soon?” Virgil asked, a hint of irritation in his voice.  

“What am I getting on? Your collar bones?” Roman replied incredulously. “Wouldn’t a shoulder be better?”

The hand under him shifted slightly, angling him towards the folds of the cloak where it met the hood. “The fabric has better grip here. You’ll fall off my shoulder if we’re attacked.”

Attacked by who? “Paranoid much?” Roman dallied for a moment longer, but the idea of falling really was an unappealing one, so he climbed up and managed to find a seat amongst the bunched up cloth.

As soon as he was settled, Virgil set off again, and Roman clung tightly, staring out at this strange new perspective of the forest. Weird, but definitely better than the jar.

They moved along in relative silence, Virgil surprisingly light on his feet for a giant. The sun had just begun to sink below the horizon when he finally jerked to a halt.

Roman opened his mouth to complain at the sudden stop, but Virgil’s head was tilted, as though carefully listening. After a moment, he turned to a nearby patch of shrubbery.

“Hey,” he called, voice lacking it’s usual edge. “I can hear you over there.”

There was a long pause, and Roman blinked as the shrubbery began to tremble slightly. There was actually someone in there?

“Easy,” Virgil said, lowering himself into a squat. “I’m not going to hurt you. I can help you find the way out of these woods, if you’d like.”  

After a moment, a small hand pushed part of the bush aside, peering out cautiously at them. Roman’s heart twisted at the kid’s face, smudged with dirt and tear streaks. They couldn’t have been more than eight.

Virgil shifted, and Roman felt a chill go through him, remembering who, or rather what he was with. He couldn’t let the giant lure the kid into whatever scheme he was planning.

“There you go,” Virgil coaxed, offering a hand to help the kid stand up. “It must have been scary, stuck out in the woods alone. You did good to stay in one spot.”

Roman bit down on the automatic urge to call out a warning, listening to the way Virgil carefully encouraged the kid to stand up and brush the twigs from their hair. This was important. He had to consider the situation from all angles before making a move.

If Virgil really wanted to abduct a random kid in the woods, he didn’t need to convince them of anything. He’d dealt with a trained slayer as though he was a minor annoyance, a kid wasn’t exactly a challenge. So why was he going to all this trouble?

Roman thought about the soft edges of Virgil’s expression when he gave Patton his coat back. Maybe… it wasn’t a ruse?

“I’m Virgil,” the giant in question said, shaking Roman from his thoughts. “And this is Roman. We’re travelling together.”

Roman startled, not expecting to be introduced. “Uh, salutations!”

The kid stared with wide eyes. “You’re so small!” they blurted, before covering their mouth hurriedly.

Virgil cut in before Roman could correct him. “He’s a pixie. Likes to cause problems on purpose.”

Roman huffed “I do not! Don’t let him fool you, I am a delight.”

The kid giggled, and Virgil’s shoulders relaxed slightly. Roman wished he could see his expression.

From there it was second nature to keep up a stream of chatter with the kid about everything from their favorite food (honey on bread) to their stance on frogs (cute but you shouldn’t kiss them). It grew darker and darker as they walked, and after the kid had almost tripped over stray roots thrice in rapid succession, Virgil had crouched and lifted them onto his back with ease.

Before long, the kid was snoring lightly, face smushed against his hood, and there was a surprisingly comfortable silence in the air between them.

Virgil broke it first. “Thanks for not freaking out. I didn't know you had it in you.”

Roman crossed his arms, ignoring how close he’d come to freaking out. “This doesn’t mean I trust you or anything. We’re still enemies, you’re just. Not as bad as you could’ve been.”

“Yipee,” Virgil deadpanned, shrugging his shoulder under Roman slightly to jostle him. Roman jabbed his elbow in the general direction of Virgil’s neck in retaliation. “Very gracious of you.”

“I certainly won’t be as gracious the next time you pass me off as a pixie,” Roman muttered, prompting a low, half-air laugh from Virgil. He realized belatedly that he’d assumed there would be a next time, and hadn’t been corrected. He wasn’t sure if that was reassuring or not.

What was it about this giant that made Roman feel at ease to speak his mind, even in such a precarious position?

Virgil slowed as they came up on the town again, crouching to gently nudge the kid awake and set  them on their own two feet again. “You’re home, kiddo.”

“Don’t go traipsing around in the forest again, y’hear?” Roman added sternly. “Not everything in those woods are as nice as us.”

The kid nodded solemnly, and then grumbled sleepily as Virgil ruffled their hair and pushed them towards the paved path into town.

Once the kid reached the town's edge, they turned around to peek over their shoulder. The two of them were already well out of sight, waiting until the kid had been safely whisked into the arms of their parents before departing.

Roman waited with bated breath, but despite their deal being over, Virgil seemed to have no intent of removing him from his newfound perch. He sunk deeper into the fabric as they continued to trek on.

For now, he could let himself enjoy this tentative peace.

[agentfreckles]

So I saw this video on Instagram where this woman was pranking her partner and basically she randomly got all dolled up and claimed she was just going to the grocery store to see how they would react. Do you think UB would have any funny reactions to that prank??

This is probably not at all what you were looking for, anon, but the second I read this I was immediately hit with inspiration. Long story short, your ask allowed me to complete my first fic after over a month of intense writer’s block. So I hope you enjoy my dumb little Adam drabble because I am seriously so thankful for you rn 😭

All Dolled Up 

Rating: General

Word Count: 1,308

Pairing: Adam x Female!Detective (Ramona Gibson)

Summary: Ramona selects a highly unconventional outfit for her trip to the grocery store. Adam is not amused. 

Notes: This is my first time writing specifically for Ramona which has me feeling all kinds of happy. Her name is only used twice and there are no pronouns used, so hopefully it’s not too distracting if you want to imagine your detective instead. But I’m so excited to finally give Ramona a voice and I hope you all like her as much as I do!

"Oh, come on!" I mutter angrily, about ready to rip out this stubborn curl that has decided to flop in front of my face yet again. My reflection stares back at me through the hallway mirror as I shove the lock of hair back in place for what must be the hundredth time in the past five minutes.

I don't even know why I'm putting so much effort into some lame practical joke anyway. The fact that I'm even doing a prank at all is completely ridiculous and so unlike me. Surely Felix hasn't been that much of a bad influence on me the last several months, right? But then again, he was the one who brought this concept to my attention by showing me some video he had found a couple days prior before not-so-subtly suggesting I try out the same thing on a certain Commanding Agent next chance I get. 

And somehow despite my reservations I ended up taking Felix up on his proposition and spent the better half of one of my rare evenings off getting all dressed up for what exactly? Just to get a rise out of Adam -- something that I can do just fine without having to fight to get my hair under control or squeezing into a form-fitting dress and high heels? Sounds like a hell of a waste in retrospect when it seems like all I have to do these days is breathe in his general direction to press his buttons, given how much tension there's been brewing between us the past couple of weeks.  

Now that I think about it, maybe it's that same tension that has me feeling compelled to act out in this way. Perhaps this whole thing was bred out of some desperate hope that maybe, just maybe, seeing me all done up and glamorous will give Adam the push he needs to throw away his inhibitions and finally-

No. I won't even entertain the thought.

This is just a silly little prank amongst coworkers. No big deal.

Renewed determination quells the nerves in my chest and I give my reflection a resolute nod before squaring my shoulders and striding down the length of the hallway. With one final calming breath and a whispered "You can do this, Ramona," I give the living room door's elegant brass handle a twist and step inside.

No turning back now.

Adam is sitting on the worn leather sofa near the fireplace when I enter the living room, looking lost in thought as he stares into the crackling flames with a deep-set frown. He breaks from his pensive state and stands at the sound of my footsteps before turning to offer a greeting, but the sight of me, or rather my outfit, makes the words get caught in his throat. When he does eventually speak, it's in a voice so soft I nearly miss it. 

“Ramona...”

Heat blooms on my cheeks both at the unexpected use of my name and the way his gaze passes over every inch me with the reverence and care of a lover's caress. With the help of the dim light from the fire's glow I am able to detect a glimmer of desire in those icy green eyes, the intensity behind them making my brain fog up with so much steam that I nearly forget about the practical joke I'm supposed to be pulling entirely.

"Hi," I offer pathetically, immediately clearing my throat to dispel some of the tension in the room and restore power to my malfunctioning brain. Miraculously, it manages to do the trick as even Adam seems to break out of the trance-like state he was in. He folds his hands behind his back, adopting the familiar rigid stance I've come to associate with the Commanding Agent when he's attempting to appear guarded and aloof.

“I haven’t heard mention of any formal events in your schedule," he remarks cooly. A soft smile grazes my lips when I notice his gaze still lingers on me a few seconds longer than necessary despite his attempt to convey casual disinterest. "May I ask where you’re headed?”

I smile, everything from the expression on my face to my body language a perfect picture of innocence as I deliver the punchline. “Just to the market to grab some groceries."

I wish I had brought a camera to record the speed at which Adam's eye dart up to meet mine, immense confusion overtaking his features. Suddenly I'm not so sure which reaction I enjoyed more: the unmistakable attraction radiating off of him in waves when I  had first arrived or the perplexed, almost outraged look on his face now.

"You’re welcome to come with me if you’d like.”

“I beg your pardon?” Adam scoffs, ignoring the invitation and instead cocking a brow and folding his arms disapprovingly as he studies me with a far more judgmental eye than he had before. “I fail to see how cocktail attire is an appropriate garment choice for a supermarket.”

Oddly emboldened by the clear distaste in his words, I decide to push a little further.

“What, you don’t like it?” I reply in mock offense before turning once in a small circle, my pace deliberately slow to give Adam the best possible view of the way the fabric clings to my every curve while I try not to get too wrapped up in the feeling of his eyes hungrily drinking me in once more.

“I didn’t say that.” Adam replies once I've finished my little display, coughing lightly in an effort to hide the slight strain in his voice as he speaks. “However, my point still stands. You are far too overdressed for a simple errand run. I would highly suggest you change into something more practical that is better suited to the task you aim to complete.”

Oh, now that's a bit of a mood killer.

Really, out of all the possible outcomes I was hoping to get out of this, an impromptu lecture from Adam was not one of them. The heat that was steadily building up between us fizzles out at his commanding tone and annoyance quickly takes its place.

Must he always be such an ass?

The indignant scoff that escapes my lips this time is completely genuine. “Says the guy who wore a button up and slacks into a sewer not too long ago.”

“I-You—Those were entirely different circumstances!" Adam splutters, clearly not expecting to have that particular incident brought up again, let alone in the middle of a debate he was so certain he had won just a moment before. The disbelieving look I toss his way helps him regain his composure quickly and his expression hardens once more as he fixes me with an icy glare. “And even if they were somehow similar, my motivations for doing so were far more commendable than whatever ridiculous excuse you’ve managed to come up with for this, I'm sure.”

“Oh really?” I mimic his stance, folding my arms across my chest and raising a challenging brow. “And what were those motivations exactly?”

“I...“ My chin proudly raises in triumph as I watch Adam’s stony mask crumble, a blush now rapidly coloring the pale skin of his face and neck as he struggles to speak. I must admit his reaction comes as a bit of a surprise. I’ve never seen him quite so flustered. And clearly neither has he judging by the way his gaze darts around the room in search of something, anything to rescue him from the nightmare this conversation has turned into.

"Well?"

Just as the red tinge on his cheeks is beginning to reach tomato-like levels of intensity Adam suddenly straightens. “I have work to do.”

And with that he turns on his heel, quickly marching past me and out of the room.

[lackingspace]

Dyad (Vincent x Reader x Bo)

Rated: Explicit

Word Count: 2.9K

Summary: A nice evening watching your art boyfriend paint....who am I kidding, its smut.

Warnings: Praise kink, Dirty talk like normal, Creampie, Cockwarming, More Dirty talk, Bo being sweet (wow), Oral, Cumeating?

A/N:I’m still on House of Wax boys. I love them. Please take a disgusting Vincent x Reader x Bo. It’s not a weird husband brother thing tho.･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Now has Part 2: Dyad II

Ao3: Dyad

You’d just finished dinner chatting with Lester about some new clients you’d gotten at the tattoo shop. There was at least one crazy story a week being a few towns over with a much more ‘metro’ clientele. He loved hearing about your work and all the weirdos that wandered in wanting just the most ridiculous things. 

With him being your foster brother the two of you had a different relationship. See, when their parents had died none of them were 18 yet, so they were stuck in foster care. And of course, the system had failed to keep them together. Lucky for them though, your parents were actually decent humans. 

They’d tried to house all 3, but rules and regulations had prevented it. However, a social worker your father had guilt-tripped had been kind enough to ‘accidentally’ drop a card that had the number and address to where his brothers were homed. They never came to visit him, always the other way around, which sucked, because it sounded like their home wasn’t the greatest. So it was only Lester that joined your family. 

Your father loved taking him out hunting, your mother doted on him, and you grew to consider him an actual brother. The two of you could talk about anything and everything. Your father liked to say y’all got on like two peas in a pod. Which you always rolled your eyes at, but it was true, so even when he’d turned 18 and wandered off back to his brothers he still kept in touch. Visiting on some holidays and special occasions. 

He was even your biggest supporter when you started your tattoo apprenticeship- going as far to volunteer as your first guinea pig. And God did he still have a terrible outline of a turtle on his ankle. You’d offered to cover it up, but he always refused and said he loved it just how it was. 

So when you’d decided to visit him for a change, well, that was a surprise to everyone. You knew where the town was, could see the address clearly from the foster papers your parents had. And he’d told you plenty times that’s where they’d all headed back to. So, you’d used an old map and made your way into the town. 

You’d freaked Bo out when you’d asked for Lester and then knew his name too. He thought you were a fed at first, but everything cleared up when you explained. Lester also ran in frantically scared he hadn’t made it in time when he’d found your jeep outside town, but it all worked out. You’d even picked Vincent’s brain about technique and swooned over his art. So Bo had begrudgingly accepted you into their lives.

And that’s how you’d come to be a regular occupant with these boys. At first just to visit your foster brother, but then to visit with them all. Staying a night here and there, until you’d ended up hooking up with Vincent. Then a while later Bo too. And it just became a thing unquestioned between you three. 

So there you were, packing up a dinner for each of the twins who were still messing about in town. Wasn’t anything complicated-- Bo had mentioned he’d wanted chicken fried steak a few nights ago and you’d thought to be nice and make it, some gravy, green beans, and mashed potatoes. Not a very health-conscious dinner, but it was nice to cheat every so often.

Closing the last lid on your care package you grabbed them both and turned to Lester, “I’m gonna go bother the twins, Les. I’ll see ya in the mornin, k?” He nodded and waved you off, “Yeah, night, sis!” you grabbed your bag and made your way down into town. 

Stopping by the station first, you found Bo and set the food down next to where he was working. He was in a good mood because he leaned down and gave you a quick peck, “Thanks, pumpkin.” you gave him a smile and turned to leave only to feel a swat to your ass, “Bo!” he looked smug as hell, “That tight ass skirt is criminal. Couldn’t help myself, darlin.” You only shook your head and headed to Vincent. 

He was currently working on an oil painting and it was beautiful. Of course it was though, your boyfriend was insanely talented. You came up behind him and wrapped your arms around his middle. It didn’t even phase him as he continued on with his brush strokes. “I brought you dinner and yeah before you say anything you need to eat. I know you haven’t all day so don’t even try.” 

You heard him huff in annoyance behind his mask. Vincent only had a temper when he was interrupted while in a flow. But you understood, being an artist yourself, but he could be mad all he wanted- food was important.

“I swear once you eat, you can go back to it, I have some sketching to do too. She’s gorgeous by the way, I like the lighting and use of discordance.” Not that you’d see, but Vincent still flushed when you complimented him so nonchalantly. He’d never tell you it was a painting of you. It was a close up of your torso twisting warped in pleasure-- the face distorted so you wouldn’t realize the subject. He agreed silently though, you were beautiful.  

Practically inhaling the food, he mumbled a quiet, “Thank you” before immediately replacing his mask and going back to work. You pulled your sketchbook out and set to designing some of your new client’s pieces. After an hour or so, sleep had started to set in and so you laid on the mattress he had while you watched him work until you drifted off. 

Vaguely waking when you felt yourself being lifted you wrapped your arms around his neck and snuggled closer. The hand on your back started to soothingly rub up and down once you’d gripped him. Sleep was shaking off with each step he took and you blamed his neck for smelling so good, but you couldn’t stop yourself from lightly placing kisses against his pulse. 

The grip on your thighs tightening when the pecks turned to open mouth kisses. And his breath hitched when the nibbling started. He was all but ready to just have you out in the street when you’d placed the first few bites, but he restrained himself and kept moving towards the house. Groaning when you licked up his neck to his ear and moaned, “Vinny, I’m so wet. I was dreaming about riding you, ya know.” 

The strangled moan that left him had you giggling, “Can I please do it when we get home? Let me sink down onto you while you fuck up into me?” He choked out a sob of agreement and power walked the last few feet home. He was on you once you’d set foot into his room. 

Mask off instantly- mouth swooping down to drown you in kiss after kiss. His hands gently gripped your face as his tongue catishly teased your lips. Tilting your head he nipped at your bottom lip as you reached down and ran a hand over his clothed rock solid cock. Arousal flushed through your system like you were caught in a fire. His open mouth groan gave you the opportunity to dip your tongue in to graze the roof of his mouth and then pull back to nibble on his bottom lip. Fuck, he tasted so good. Your sex pulsed when he dragged you back in for another kiss and his tongue ran against yours in a teasing dance.

Your hands had finally gotten his pants open and down enough to pull him out. He released your mouth to cry out when you gripped him tightly at the base. He pulled back to stare down as your small hand tried to wrap fully around him, but couldn’t quite manage. His hands still on your face absentmindedly ran through your hair as you cooed, “God, you look so fucking yummy, Vincent. I’m dripping looking at you, and all that’s for me?” his tip was angrily swollen and with so much pre-cum spilled over that it was leaking down the side to pool at your hand, dripping onto your wrist. 

He whined when you dropped to your knees and licked as much up in one go as you could. You showed him it on your tongue before you swallowed. Moving closer you rubbed his cock around your lips smearing any leftover before taking his tip into your mouth as you felt your clit pulse. Moaning around him as you swirled your tongue around his pulsing head. He sobbed as you gave a light suck and your hands twisted around his base. His hands still in your hair pushed you- shakily pleaded you to take more in your mouth. 

You were happy to oblige when he was moaning so sweetly for you. Bobbing up and down in at a moderate pace as your hands worked him at the base until you pulled up to flick your tongue against his frenulum which had his grip tighten in your hair. Your hips were moving in want of some kind of relief, seeking some kind of pressure. Swirling your tongue once again around the tip and then giving a flat lick to the head as you pulled off. 

You looked up at him pathetically, “I love when you fuck my face, Vinny, but I really wanna ride you.” Your hips arched and you pressed your breast against his knees as you mouthed the underside of his cock, “My pussys so empty and achy right now. Need your cock stretching me open.” Licking the underside from base to tip you pleaded as you rubbed your cheek against him, “Please Vinny? You’ll feel so good inside my hot wet cunt. I promise I’ll take you deep and let you cum inside. Fill me up till its leaking out of my messy hole.” the sound he made was almost inhuman. A cross between a growl, gunt, and sob as he scooped you up and rapidly set to undressing you. 

Between sloppy kisses and grabbing hands the two of you were finally on his bed. You straddling him while his hands gripped your hips. You were leaning down sloppily kissing as you let you hips writhe against him. With every whirl, his cock was slipping through your folds hitting your clit just right and God did it feel so good. Breathlessly releasing his lips you leaned back and gripped him by the base.

Locking eyes as you lifted yourself to sink down had your core fluttering as you took each solid inch. Finally seating it all you took a moment to just feel. He was so fucking thick and stretched your pussy open so good. Circling your hips to rub your clit against him had you clench around him. He groaned at the feel of you tightening before he reached a hand up and pinched a nipple of your aching breast. You cried out at the pain and placed both hands on his stomach as you rocked your hips back and forth-- letting him feel your walls hug him.

He gripped a breast as you lifted your hips to drop back on him. The drag was delicious and had your head toss back a moan as you felt the fire in your belly kick up. “Oh, fuck Vincent, you feel so good in me.” he hummed in agreement as he flicked your neglected nipple. Rising to fall back down he hit so deep and fuck was it good. Arousal was coursing straight to your clit having it pulse in time with every downward stroke. 

His hand at your hip leisurely thumbing circles into your skin as you picked up the pace- taking him as deep as you could with each fall. You’d slowly built up until you were bouncing on his cock babbling about how good he was stretching you open and how deep his cock hit. Both hands were back at your hip pulling you down harder as he fucked his hips up into you while watching your tits bounce. 

Everything was building, you were tense, hot- like you were burning up, could feel the familiar heat of an orgasm building in your lower stomach like lead. You were so close, but you wanted his cum first, “Oh, fuck! Vinny I’m so close! Please, please I want your cum in my cunt! Please, I need it filling me up before I cum.” You sobbed out a cry when he moved his thumb to circle harshly on your clit, “Vincent, god you’re so fucking sexy. Please, I want you to fuck your cum up into me!”

He moaned when you said that and arched as he shot his thick cum deep inside you. The hot sensation of being so filled pushed you over the edge and had your moaning out a cry as your own back arched. His hips were still jerkily fucking into you and when you finally looked down you saw his cock was covered in his own milky white essence when he pulled out. 

Fuck that looked so good and somehow even after your intense orgasm fire shot back down your spine- almost like an aftershock. Leaning down you gave him a long lazy kiss before you pulled away to ask, “Could you put it back in? I wanna keep your cum inside and cock warm while we fall asleep.” He ran a hand over his face and through his hair as he groaned out a single, “Fuck.” but he pulled your back to his chest and as you settled down his thigh lifted one of yours for him to slowly push his softening cock back inside you. Some of his cum that’d started leaking out helped him slip in easier.

You pushed your hips back against him, “Oh, Vincent you feel so good like this.” His hand rested low on your stomach pulling your hips to his as he came back up to kiss at your pulse before you turned your face to lock lips. He settled in behind you and after a few minutes the both of you were out like candles. 

Something was coaxing your senses back awake. The light was blinding when you’d tried to open your eyes, only to shut them again. You could hear your breathing was heavy and felt the warmth in your lower stomach. A second later you figured out what it was when you felt a hot tongue lick though your folds to end at your clit with a swirl. Moaning you pushed your hips into the mouth as you opened your eyes again. 

When your vision finally focused you saw Bo’s head between your legs sloppily eating you out.

You moaned Bo’s name as his tongue dipped into your center before he sucked your clit into his mouth. He released you with a pop, “Mornin, Pumpkin” You’d tried to return it, but when he dipped his tongue back through your folds you moaned again. 

He spread your pussy open with two fingers to tongue fuck your hole before he pulled back, “Fuck, princess, your pussy’s tangy this morning.” You groan because fuck that thought of why was hot and you finally answered, “That’d be vincent’s cum. Somes probably still there. Asked him to keep my pussy plugged with his cock.” You thought it’d maybe deter Bo, but all he did was drag his tongue back into you and dipped in as deep as he could reach. He licked up to flick your clit with the tip of his tongue. Your legs jerk open wide and hips buck into him when he swirled and then sucked. 

Taking his mouth off you, he climbed his way up until you were caged in face to face. He gave you a scrutinizing look and you caught your breath as you stare back. Snaking your Legs up to grip his hips your ankles lock around the backs of his upper thighs. Damn, he came prepared. No boxers to be found and shit he felt so good-- he has such fucking solid thighs.

He breaks your internal chatter and brings you back with, "Yeah? You let my baby bro cum all in your cunt and didn’t wash?" You shrugged sheepishly and offered, "We were tired...plus, baby bro? he’s like 2 minutes younger." Bo huffed a laugh while swooping down to your neck, "Two minutes still means younger. And that makes him the baby." Before you could retort he ground his hips against yours. Cock sliding through your folds to catch your clit had you whimper out a moan. 

He licked up your neck to nibble on your ear while still grinding against you, "Wanna know a secret, sunshine? I actually prefer when you’re a dirty slut and leave his cum inside." A plus shot down to your core and settled in your clit, "Just means I get the pleasure of fucking it outta ya and filling it up with my own." You groaned and tightened your thighs around him "Oh fuck, Bo! You’re disgusting. You like your twin’s sloppy seconds?" He leaned back and gripped the base of his cock and pushed in your opening as he snickered, "Yeah, I do. I heard the two of you fucking last night, was hoping he’d cum inside. And besides, it don’t look to me like you or your pussys complaining." He gave a harsh trust, “In fact, with how wet you got and how hard you clenched,  I’d wager you like it too.”

[obutsuwrites]

work friends (miruko x reader, part 1)

summary: Suddenly, her blood felt too hot and steamy. Like lava that devoured roads. She wanted to pinch the woman’s cheeks. The thought caused a light red cloud to drift across the hero’s face. A brush felt foreign on her face. Usagiyama’s cheeks burned; hot blood that scorched her veins.

xxx

basically based off of a prompt i found on tumblr, "we're not friends and you fucking know it." (you'll eventually find out why, am big horny 4 this stupid bunny!!)

word count:  1731

my ao3 for more shitposts

my inbox is open 4 requests~!

The young reporter shifted in her seat, nerves electric and on fire. Being in the same room as pro heroes was -- until now -- a foreign concept to her. This was the chance of a lifetime, the young woman thought as bored fingers drummed against her thighs. Fidgeting somewhat controlled her anxiety. The ball of static within her stomach now coiled, like hunger pains.

She released a shaky breath, face stoic and serious. Breath hot and impatient. The young woman considered her servere expression a natural poker face; the perfect disguise for jitters. A strength that landed the reporter this. A press conference with top heroes. Ask the right questions and any reporter could become a star. Perhaps, with enough determination, she could start a publishing company! Maybe even rival the likes of Kizuki Chitose! The eager reporter’s mind swam with possibilities, determination in her eyes. Jaw tense.

≛

Usagiyama Rumi sighed. It was today, wasn’t it? The realization had snaked through early morning brain fog. Almost an afterthought. Today, an afterthought? Her chest rumbled as a throaty chuckle escaped. Yeah, as fuckin’ if.  

Crimson eyes squinted as the afternoon sun streamed through mishandled blinds. Right. Should fix that eventually. She discarded the thought. The Rabbit Hero’s heart swelled with excitement. The tips of her fingers tingled; her passion tangible and airy. Usagiyama was pathetic towards the reporters. Answering their questions was a part of the entire gig, of course.

Instead the keen rabbit anticipated the cameras. The theatrics of it all. A press conference with cameras and answering questions with the fervor Usagiyama reserved for villains. Expressing herself for the world -- finally -- as number seven. Pro hero number seven; Rabbit Hero Miruko! She decided the title fit perfectly.

≛

Usagiyama bounced on the balls of her feet. She was never one for waiting. Yet here the keen rabbit was, waiting in a shitty white room with other top heroes. She scanned the room. Even Endeavor was here. This’ll be good, Usagiyama reasons. Pro hero Miruko, All Might, and Endeavor?

So much passion!

≛

A weary exhale was the only sound from the annoyed woman. She had arrived early for this, and yet, there was some sort of mistake. Technical difficulties, an assistant explained. Her voice too chipper and loud for a late afternoon.

“Can you believe this?” the reporter muttered, her words heavy and taunt. Like her nerves.

The press conference was slated for this morning, 10 a.m. on the dot. Early, but certainly not impossible for heroes or their lackeys. Annoyed, the huffy woman glanced at her watch. 1:30 p.m.

She giggled, the sound agitated and loud.

≛

That laugh. What asshole laughs like that? Usagiyama wondered. A manic sound that bothered the energetic hero. Too high pitched and noisy.

Pro hero Miruko strutted towards the stage; muscular hips swaying underneath her costume. The costume was revealing, but it served a purpose; maximum ability to kick villain ass. Usagiyama considered the risque nature a plus. Hard earned muscles deserved an audience.

Excited orbs darted around the large auditorium. Usagiyama puffed out her chest, as if the rabbit hero was a peacock.

Yeah, this is it. I’ve made it. Rabbit Hero: Miruko. The thought ignited a small fire within her heart. An organ that beat like a drum in her ears. Usagiyama continued to peer into the sea of reporters, passionate eyes landing on chubby cheeks. Suddenly, her blood felt too hot and steamy. Like lava that devoured roads. She wanted to pinch the woman’s cheeks. The thought caused a  light red cloud to drift across the hero’s face. A brush felt foreign on her face. Usagiyama’s cheeks burned; hot blood that scorched her veins. The hero wondered what the reporter looked like beneath her. A sweaty, curvy mess. Flesh so soft and supple. A body made for holding.

Miruko swallowed, her throat dry and lumpy. She wanted to call out to the reporter, maybe flash a cocky smile and wink. Acts of flirtation she reserved for pickups from shady bars. Instead, crimson eyes watched the reporter, their intent almost carnivorous.

≛

A… a pro hero wasn’t staring at her, right? Miruko was known for intense crimson orbs, but the reporter felt them on her. Almost going through her. Two hot orbs that ate away at the woman’s insecurity. The reporter tugged at her skirt; material snug against plush thighs. The garment didn’t quite fit, but it was the only skirt she owned. Pant suits were too business for such a hyped event. She looked away, desperate to bend in. A part of her felt undeserving. Miruko was seven on the charts and she was simply a reporter. Not even a part of a big publication; she had to beg -- plead -- for this opportunity. And yet, the Rabbit Hero was burning holes into her.

≛

Due to the lack of her notoriety, no hero called on any question she had. At least, until it was Miruko’s turn. The rabbit’s maroon eyes gawked at her; expression sharp and determined. Her stare ignited warmth between the reporter’s thighs.

“You… you got questions, ya? Ask me!” Miruko beamed. Her voice boomed throughout the room, bouncing off the cement walls. Despite an athletic frame, the Rabbit Hero was dwarfed by All Might and Endeavor. She looked as small as the woman felt. Every muscle shrunk underneath Miruko’s gaze.

Please let a villain attack…

The thought was selfish, but every nerve felt numb. Her body fell asleep; jaw slack and resting taunt.

She stood up. Words struggled to become tangible. “Uh,” she began, “yeah. You always mention shining accomplishments. So… so many for someone your age. However, uh, do you have any everyday problems civilians don’t face?” Internally, she was screaming. Externally? A stoic expression. Jaw muscles set and contrasting round cheeks.

≛

Miruko laughed, the sound hearty and thunderous. The noise was a juxtaposition to her size. She stood 159 cm, a height that left the hero underestimated. Thought fodder for a toned body even Adonis would admire. She strived for perfection; large hips capable of powerful kicks. A carved v-line that led to strong calves. Miruko’s costume was efficient for her fighting style. The leotard left little skin undiscovered. Miruko knew this; she reveled in the stares.

But… but the chubby reporter gazed upon the floor. Her shoes seemed a more interesting subject than a pro hero.

“Normal q-tips hurt my ears.” Her tone was formal and blunt. Enthusiasm sucked dry from the rabbit’s being. Miruko appeared so vulnerable, expression soft and sincere. Thin lips pulled into a lazy grin.

≛

Pro hero Miruko only called upon her once. It was the one question she was able to ask. Every other hero ignored the reporter, unable to recognize her publication's logo. Even All Might, a man the woman admired. She wanted to run her fingers over his muscles and feel them contract underneath her. Hard earned tissue she wanted to worship.

And yet, Miruko swam like a haze through the woman’s mind. The rabbit occasionally popped into her mind as she prepared to leave. Despite being such a small business, the reporter spared no expense. The items were mostly drunken impulse buys that she needed for her trip; lavish ink pens she wouldn’t normally purchase. Paper that felt sturdy underneath her fingertips, little accents that she cherished. They would carry the memory of this event.

Even… even if All Might ignored me and Miruko looked at me… like that.

The reporter busied herself. She wanted to ignore the intoxicating, almost obnoxious thoughts of Miruko. Her very presence was suffocating. Too fierce and imposing. No wonder you’re number seven.  

Too distracted, the woman didn’t notice the overbearing aura several paces behind.

≛

Miruko couldn’t help herself. She had never seen such pillowy thighs before. Thighs she wanted to smother in. The rabbit’s ears twitched as a shiver crawled through her nerves. She smiled, eager and predatory.

Quietly, she approached the curvy woman. Miruko wanted to be casual, and because of this, the Rabbit Hero donned a muted yellow tracksuit. Plush material that clung to toned muscles.

“You’re new, right? Your question was fun,” she began, “and I can’t resist a cutie.” Her tone was suggestive and light, but behind maroon orbs was a flaming desire.

“Okay… thanks.” Her reply was curt and proper, as if the pro hero was a nuisance. The reporter continued to pack her bags, refusing to acknowledge Miruko.

Thin lips pursed together in annoyance. So it’s like that.

Miruko regained her smile. “Give me your number. I’d do an interview for you.”

The reporter turned to face Miruko, hands delicate and shaky. Even behind her, the number seventh hero choked her. Her lungs ached, as if the rabbit sucked out all oxygen. An airless moment between the two.

“I have to decline. I -- I’m sorry, but I need to finish packing. Maybe --”

Before the sentence left her, calloused hands clasped around the woman’s trembling shoulders.

“I’ll make it worth your while,” Miruko suggested as fingers traced patterns in the reporter’s shoulders. “No gossip rag shit.”

Her hands… so warm. The slightest hue of rose painted her cheeks, as if the woman had pinched them.

An exclusive interview with the number seventh hero would launch her career… and yet, a bundle of nerves gathered in her stomach. Like snakes.

She swallowed, the woman’s mouth too dry to swallow the dread.

A laugh flew past her lips. Miruko noted it was the same laugh she heard before; the sound too obnoxious and high-pitched.

Red orbs observed as she spoke, “I -- I guess you can give me your number.” Miruko’s eyes pierced through her; a knife that buried itself into the woman’s very being. The woman wanted to go home and disappear. Anything… Anything to escape the hero’s intense stare.

≛

After exchanging numbers, the reporter was finally home. She kicked off worn heels and began to undress. Pajamas were comfort, and required. A smile crept across the woman’s lips; she almost craved the plush material against her skin. Her security blanket.

The woman was clothed in her precious sleepwear as she toyed with her phone. A desert still in her mouth.

Almost like the bitter aftertaste of that woman…

She laughed; the sound genuine and delicate. It was a privilege. Something so sacred, so personal. Sparks of joy were meant for friends and family.

[onceinsomniac]

Hey can I request a scenario with Sua from Dreamcatcher where her and the reader get into their first argument but they make up at the end? Thanks

Author’s note: First of all, thank you so much for being the first person to request something. Sorry it took a couple of days but I was trying to make sure it was good. I’m honestly not completely happy with how it turned out but I hope you will like it anyways. Also, I kind of accidentally went off script a little on what was requested and it was my first time writing Y/N so I hope it turned out well.

It’s Always Been You

You were sitting in a park bench, drenched to the core and wondering how exactly had things gotten to this point. You weren’t expecting things to turn out this way when you first awoke that morning. In fact, you had actually been really excited. After all, it’s not every day that you can celebrate your first-year anniversary with the love of your life.

You could still remember the day Bora had first come into your life as clear as if it had been yesterday.

You sighted exasperatedly for what had to be the fifth time in the last 10 minutes. It was the first Friday your demanding boss had given you off in what felt like forever and, after sleeping through the morning and most of the afternoon, you had been looking forward to relaxing on the couch with your favorite snacks and binge watching the new season of your favorite drama.

Your plans had been derailed, however, when you opened your kitchen cabinet only to realize you’d forgotten to stock up on said snacks. Or on food in general, really. You were used to spending most of your time at the office and eating there and since your job kept you quite busy you didn’t have lots of friends visiting you so you tended to forget to do the groceries more often than what was probably considered normal.

You felt annoyance fill you as you hastily shoved on the first pair of jeans and oversized hoodie you found. You could have easily foregone the snacks and just watched the drama but your unhealthy obsession with junk food meant you would now have to make a quick trip to the closest convenience store.

You took a quick glance at the alarm clock sitting on your dresser, surprised to see that it was already nearing eight pm. At least that explained the growling in your stomach considering you hadn’t eaten anything all day, to busy catching up on sleep. You walked out of your small apartment, shoving in your earphones and hitting shuffle on your playlist, quietly humming along to the song as you walked to the convenience store located a block away from your apartment.

You usually preferred walking places rather than driving, as it helped you think, and you had never really felt unsafe walking through your neighborhood but this time you could have sworn you could feel eyes staring at the back of your head. You quickened your pace, eager to get to the store which was right ahead. You quickly entered it, immediately feeling safer in the bright store than you had outside, where darkness was quickly descending.

Once inside, you walked over to the snack section, quickly forgetting the weird feeling you had felt, to busy trying to decide what to buy. You took your time deciding between barbeque or onion chips before deciding to get both. You had just moved to the chocolate aisle when you heard a scream coming from the other side of the store. You didn’t think anything about it as the scream sounded full playful. You simply rolled your eyes at people making so much noise before upping the volume of your music.

A few minutes later, you finally had everything you were looking for and were making your way to the cashier when two girls caught your attention. One was really short while the other one was quite tall and the shorter of the two was clearly the culprit of the screams you had heard earlier, considering the screeching that was still coming from her as she playfully hit the other girl on the arm, a huge smile on her face which seemed to grow as the annoyance on the taller girl’s face also grew. Although you could clearly see the fondness in the taller woman’s eyes even as she seemed about to hit her back.

Both women were beautiful but something about the shorter girl made you unable to move your eyes from her. Maybe it was the way she didn’t seem to care about the fact that she was in public place and was just having fun, or maybe it was the noisy laughter coming out of her, full of unadulterated joy. All you knew was that something about her called to you.

You were so busy staring at her that you didn’t realize that your staring had been noticed until you felt a pair of eyes looking at you. You turned to see the taller of the two looking at you weirdly, probably wondering why you were standing in the middle of the store staring at her friend like a creep. You felt yourself blush furiously at being caught before forcing yourself to look away. You quickly went to the cashier and paid for your stuff before heading towards the door.

It was there, however, that you saw that darkness had fallen while you were buying your stuff and remembered the feeling of being watched while making your way to the store. You stood by the door, hesitating and wondering if you should call a cab even though your apartment was just one block away. You stood there for a few minutes contemplating your choices when a voice broke through your thoughts. “Is everything all right?” a voice asked. You turned around to find yourself face to face with the two women you had noticed earlier. The taller of the two had been the one to ask.

“Oh yeah. Sorry. Am I blocking the door?” you asked, thinking that was why they had stopped to talk to you on their way out. “No, it’s okay. We were just wondering why you were standing motionless at the door. Especially considering the store’s about to close in five minutes”, the shorter one spoke this time. You had been so busy looking through the store you hadn’t even realized it was almost closing time.

“Oh. I’m not… I wasn’t…” you stuttered, not sure how to explain that you were too scared to go back out. “Do you live close?”, the shorter one asked. Usually you are very wary of strangers and wouldn’t tell someone you didn’t know where you lived but apparently your brain didn’t get the memo that the person asking was a stranger, albeit a very beautiful one. “Um, yeah. I mean. I live a block away”, you answered. “Great. We can walk you. It’s dangerous to walk outside after dark, right Yoohyeon-ah?”, she asked the taller woman who quickly nodded her agreement, a knowing smirk on her face. “I’m Bora by the way. And this is my friend Yoohyeon.”

“Hi, I’m y/n.” you answered. You stood there for a few seconds thinking of a way to respectfully reject Bora’s offer but she didn’t give you the chance. Before you knew it, the woman was clinging to your arm as if you were friends and dragging you outside. “It’s very nice to meet you y/n” she said.

As you all walked towards your apartment, you stayed quiet, not knowing what to say. Bora didn’t seem to mind, however, as she chatted on endlessly even though no one was answering. You were admittedly a little weirded out by the shorter woman and turned to look at Yoohyeon questioningly but she simply shrugged, apparently used to her friend’s eccentricity.

Once there, Bora finally let go of your arm before taking your phone out of nowhere. “What are you doing”, you asked her. “I’m giving you my number. I’m guessing you won’t mind considering the way you were looking at me back at the store”, she said. You found yourself blushing once again at the implication that she had caught you staring. She then gave your phone back to you, sending you one final smirk before turning to leave. “It was nice to meet you y/n”, Yoohyeon said before following after her friend.

You shrugged off the weirdness of the interaction and entered your apartment. You had just settled down on the couch to finally watch tv a few minutes later when a music note rang from your phone, warning you of a new message. You stared at the screen, watching the message from the unknown number. “Hey, so I was thinking of going to dinner tomorrow but its kind of unsafe being out there alone at night. Want to return the favor?”

A small smile made its way to your face as you could just imagine the smug smile the older woman was probably wearing at what she perceived to be a smooth move.

Dinner the next day had gone better than expected as you got to know the other woman better. You had quickly realized she was actually quite soft underneath the flirty exterior and she had made you laugh more during the dinner than you had in a long time. It hadn’t taken you long to accept her offer of taking you on a second date.

Things had moved quickly after that and soon you were in the best relationship you had ever been in. It had been a whole year and not once had you guys fought. Until now.

You had been so excited to celebrate you guys anniversary. You had woken up early in order to prepare for the day. You would have liked to spend the whole day with her but Bora was in the middle of preparations for a new comeback and she had to spend the day in the studio. It was unfortunate but you understood what you had been getting into when you got into a relationship with an idol and you fully supported her dreams, even if it sometimes meant you didn’t get to spend as much time together as you would have liked.

It was for the best anyways, you reasoned, as you were going to spend the whole day in the kitchen cooking up all of Bora’s favorite foods anyways. You knew Bora thought you guys were simply going out to a restaurant that night but you were planning to surprise her with a romantic, home-cooked dinner instead, feeling it was more intimate.

And so that’s how you spent the morning and afternoon, running around your too small kitchen cooking, and looking at your phone, wondering why Bora hadn’t yet responded to the message you’d sent her that morning wishing her a happy day and telling her you couldn’t wait to see her that night.

You figured she was simply to busy with practice to check her phone and shrugged it off. By 8:30 you had finished setting up the table, lighting candles and putting flowers in the middle to set the mood. Now all that was left was to wait for Bora to come home. You checked your phone once more, feeling a little annoyed at the radio silence but once more thinking it wasn’t Bora’s fault that she had to prepare for the new comeback. You knew she had been really stressed lately and had been staying even later at the company to practice more.

You watched as 8:00 became 8:30 and soon after 9:00 and still there was no sign of your girlfriend. You weren’t sure if you should feel angry or worried at this point. You decided to be understanding and wait a little bit longer but by the time 9:30 arrived you were starting to get seriously worried. This was so unlike Bora. She was usually always on time and would always make sure to call or text you if she was going to be late.

You called Bora once again only to get no answer, just like the last dozens of times you’d tried. Worried, you decided to call Minji. You were quite close to all the other dreamcatcher members thanks to Bora, but you were especially close to the leader and you knew she always answered her phone. “Hey y/n, shouldn’t you be out celebrating your anniversary with Bora?”, she immediately asked once she answered.

Confusion filled you once again. “I thought Bora was with you guys. She hasn’t come back from practice yet. I assumed practice had run late once again and she’d forgotten to call me”, you told her. There was silence on the other line for a few seconds. “What are you talking about y/n? We only had practice until noon today. Bora said she was looking forward to some plans she had made. We assumed she was talking about you guys anniversary?” she explained.

You felt annoyance creeping on you. “Thanks Minji”, you answered, ignoring the older woman’s worried questions and hanging up. You suddenly remembered that both you and Bora had downloaded the find my friends app so you guys could locate each other in case anything ever happened. Resisting the urge to slap your forehead at having forgotten such information, you opened the app on your phone and were surprised at finding the dot that represented Bora to be at a bar located about 20 minutes away.

You quickly made your way outside, calling an uber as it was already dark outside and you had stopped walking outside during nighttime after you had met Bora. At least alone as the older woman had scolded you one too many times and told you how dangerous it was. You waited anxiously for the uber to arrive and once it did, you quickly got in and told the driver the directions to the bar.

The ride took no more than twenty minutes but it felt like a lifetime to you. Once there, you quickly thanked the driver before hopping off, making your way into the bar. It didn’t take long for you to recognize Bora. She was sitting in a table with another woman, laughing at something she said, a drink in her hand.

You could feel jealousy forming in the pit of your stomach. You’d spent all day working your ass off for her and here she was spending your anniversary with another woman. It seems she was able to feel your glare as she suddenly turned in your direction, her eyes meeting your own. You expected her to look ashamed or guilty, but her smile only grew at the sight of you.

“Jagi, you’re here”, she exclaimed, making her way towards you. She grabbed your arm and started walking back, clearly intending for you to follow her but you remained motionless. She turned to look at you, confused, and finally saw the anger you were clearly trying to hide. Her smile faded quickly. “Jagi, what’s wrong?”, she asked.

“What do you mean what’s wrong? Maybe the fact that you’re spending our one-year anniversary with another woman”, you spat out. You noticed how shock quickly overtook her features. “What on earth are you talking about, y/n? Our anniversary isn’t until Tuesday.”

You chuckled darkly. “It is Tuesday Bora. Maybe you’d know if you had bothered to read your text messages.” Realization seemed to wash over her as her face turned guilty but you didn’t want to hear what she had to say. Without another word, you pulled your arm from her grip before running out the bar, ignoring the shouts for you to stop.

You kept running, almost as if you were trying to outrun the pain. Eventually, you found yourself in the park located near your neighborhood. It was the same park where you and Bora had had your second date and where you both had spent many weekends together. The park was empty at this dark hour and you made your way to the closest park bench before sitting down.

Your heart ached at what had just happened. Knowing that you had been so excited, waiting eagerly for this day to come, only to realize that clearly the day didn’t mean as much to Bora as it meant to you. You suddenly felt a jacket being thrown over your shoulders, shielding you from the rain you hadn’t even realized has started.

You were so lost in your thoughts you hadn’t even realized it had started raining. You felt the person sit besides but you refused to look at them, recognizing your girlfriend from the familiar smell of cinnamon and vanilla that seeped from the jacket that now hung around you.

“Jagiya, please look at me”, she pleaded. You refused, staring straight ahead. You heard her sight before you felt fingers grasping your chin, turning your face so your eyes could meet hers. “Jagi, I’m sorry. I know that’s not enough but I’m truly sorry. I just had so much on my mind and I’ve been so stressed out about this comeback that I completely forgot. I know it’s not an excuse. You deserve better than someone who would spend our anniversary with someone else. But I promise you that she was just an old friend from school. She was in the area for a job interview and she texted me so we could catch up. I swear if I had remembered our plans I never would have gone.”

Your heart clenched at the sadness in Bora’s voice. You knew she was telling the truth. You knew her to well to know when she was being honest. But that didn’t mean you weren’t still hurt at how the day you had been so excited for had turned out. “I know you would never cheat. It’s just. Seeing you with her made my insecurities flare up”, you admitted.

“I’m sorry”, she said. You could see how much she meant it by the sincerity in her tone. “I’m sorry”, she repeated, hugging you tightly against her. “It’s only you, I swear. It’s always been you.” She whispered in your ear. And for the first time that night, you felt like everything was going to be okay.

[all1e23]

Astrophile [Pt.17]

Chapter:  Aurora

Summary: Happily ever after happens when you least expect it. 

Warnings:  Astrophile fluff. 

A/N:   Okay, I had no intentions of leaving everyone hanging so long but I got so sick. I am still coming out of it but I finally had enough energy to get this out. I hope this is the ending everyone was wanting to see. It’s been in my head since chapter 3/4 so hopefully, it was worth the wait. Thank you all for sticking with me and loving this little family as much as I do. Epilogue still to come and let’s not forget Astrophile Files.  

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are welcomed! Thanks!**

Smoke was all Bucky could see. He could feel the flames burning his skin and piles of ash tarnishing every good thing in his life. Consuming all Bucky cares about, taking… everything and leaving him nothing but the empty shell of a man. Because that’s what he would be without them, empty and broken. Thick, grey smoke cutting through golden orange flares that are choking the life out of every dream Bucky has for the future. Dark clouds of smoke billowing out of the windows of the bookstore. Blazes burning through the dark blue painted wood Bucky spent an afternoon fixing – charing and splintering it until there is nothing left he can recognize. 

All the time and hard work Y/n’s grandparents put into the store over all those decades– every recital missed, every field trip and school play skipped was in vain in one afternoon. Every one of Y/n’s dreams gone in a flash. Just like that. Everything she told him she wants for the future will be gone, and there is nothing he can do to protect her from that. All he can do is watch as the flames take away every last thing that means anything at all to him.

Hope shattering smoke and world devastating flames are filling up Bucky’s head and heart and they haven't arrived on the scene yet. Y/n is smart enough to get out of the building if something happened, and Ori has had more than her fair share of fire safety from Bucky and her uncles over the years. She knows what to do if there are any signs of trouble, but what if they didn’t see the signs until it was too late? What if it started upstairs and spread into the bookstore before they had an opportunity to comprehend what was happening? What if they are trapped in Y/n’s office because they were back there sneaking stacks of books for Ori to bring home?

What if he loses them both bore he never has a chance to tell her.. to say to them both– Steve sensing the dark thoughts looming in Bucky’s head, sets a hand on his shoulder and he only knows it’s Steve because he recognizes the gold wedding band gleaming in the corner of his eye. He didn’t want to look up right now. The truck is hushed, and Bucky knows if he looks up and sees the worry and fear on his friend’s faces, it will only add to the unfavorable images that are tormenting him. So he keeps his eyes down, locked on the yellow sleeve of his turnout jacket that is covering his left arm, he can’t see it, but he can feel it – the silver star that sits in the center of his bracelet and rests right above the ink on his arm.

“Maybe you should hang back until we know what we are dealing with.” 

Bucky’s head jerks up to meet Steve’s anxious eyes regarding him keenly. As much as Bucky understands where he’s coming from and loves Steve for what he’s striving to do, there is no way in hell he’s waiting back at the truck and not going in after them. 

It’s not happening – no matter what they find. 

“Steve,” Bucky shook his head and dropped his eyes to slip his gloves on and avoid the look on his best friend’s face. 

“Don’t – Just. Don’t.”

Bucky can feel his heart pounding harder with each corner turned. The closer they get, the more the sirens are drowned out, and by the time the truck comes to a stop, all he can hear is his breath moving through his face mask. The steady sound of his oxygen – in and out, in and… out. They didn’t make it out, a dark, cruel part of his brain taunts him.  Clint looks back at Buck and tells him something, but Bucky doesn’t catch it. From the little he got off reading Clint’s lips it wasn’t the bookstore and from the looks of things, Clint’s right. 

It’s not the store. 

The first one out of the truck, Bucky’s ignoring protocol, and he knows there will be a ‘Roger’s lecture on safety’ once this is all over. He doesn’t care. Steve can fire him because he simply doesn’t care. None of this means anything without Ori and Y/n. 

The lights in the store are off. Nothing is out of place from what he can see through the front window. The strands of fairy lights and the pillow fort from the girl’s sleepover are set up in the middle of the room. The open sign is flipped to closed, but that doesn’t mean anything. Bucky half expected Y/n to close the shop for the day so they could have the place to themselves or spend the day upstairs. 

“It’s coming from upstairs,” Bucky believes someone shouts, but he can’t be sure. He is concentrated on the crowd that is surrounding the building and slowly growing in size from the commotion. He quickly scans for Y/n and Ori, but they aren’t there. Where the hell are they? The voice back of his head is back, and it’s there to remind Bucky that the bookstore being cleared doesn’t mean they are safe. He’s seen hundreds of ways this can go wrong and he knows he can still lose them. 

The narrow hallway of stairs leading up to Y/n’s apartment is filled with smoke and Bucky swears he can feel it filling his lungs. It’s wormed its way into his mask, and he can feel it burning his lungs with every inhale. The outer wall to Y/n’s apartment looks untouched and the front door has been kicked in by Sam, he assumes, and Bucky can’t breathe – it has nothing to do with the smoke this time. He pushes his way up the stairs, rushing past Steve and skidding to a halt at the top. The smoke is coming from across the hall. 

It’s not coming from her apartment. They could still–

“Buck! Bucky! Are you listening?” 

Bucky turns back around to look at Steve, brows furrowed but his eyes filled with dread, he doesn’t want to know, but he asks anyway, voice cracking as he does, “W-what? I – What did you find?” 

“It was the guy across the hall from her. The old man who lives over the bakery. The one that flooded her apartment–” Bucky blinked a few times and slowly straightens up, rapidly shooting off questions, “Did it spread to her place? They share a wall. It’s the south wall of her bedroom. How much is damaged? She still has some of her grandparent’s things. P-pictures and– and a scarf that was her grandfathers. We need to get those out.” 

He takes a shaky breath and forces out the question he never wants to ask, “Were they in there when it happened? Are Y/n and Ori hurt?”

Steve puts his hands on Bucky’s shoulders and gently urges him down the small hallway of stairs that lead to the street. 

“They aren’t here. From what I could gather, he fell asleep using his hotplate, and it caught his curtains on fire. He tried to put it out himself, which led to all the smoke and the deli next door calling us, but from the looks of the bookstore and her apartment, the girls aren’t here.” 

That should bring him some comfort, but it doesn’t. One of them could still be hurt, and he’s entirely cognizant of how that sounds, but they aren’t here, and until he sees with his own two eyes they are okay he’s not going to be okay. 

“So where are they?” 

Bucky is tossing his helmet, hood, and face mask into the truck before Steve can argue. Steve opens his mouth to stop him from causing more of a scene, but Bucky is shoving his gloves and jacket into the truck and digging around for his phone before he can get out an argument. 

“I don’t know Buck. Have you tried calling her?” Bucky glares at him over his shoulder, “Of course, I’ve tried calling her Steve. Right after we got the call. No response. I don’t– What if Ori – they could be at the hospital or something.” 

“Buck, you know better than most not to play the ‘what-if’ game. Call them. Maybe they are with Nat? Did you try her?” 

Times like these Bucky wants to punch Steve. Just once. A light punch.No lasting damage, more of a nudge than a punch. A nudge with a sting. It will make everyone feel better. Bucky flips his phone back forth in the hands and decides that punching him in public probably would cause more problems and somewhere deep, deep down he knows Steve is trying to be helpful – not a pain in his ass. Bucky nods his agreement and walks towards the back of the truck, away from the crowd and his friends. He doesn’t need anyone witnessing him in a full meltdown, and he’s right on the edge. 

The phone is ringing, and he didn’t even realize he had hit Natasha’s number, but regardless it’s ringing. Every passing buzz in his ear has his heart speeding up until it felt like he was going to have a heart attack right there in the middle of the street. He drops to a squat and hangs his head between his legs, working to steady his breathing. If Natasha doesn’t know where they are he doesn’t know what he’s going to do– 

“James? What– Aren’t you at work?”

“Nat!” Bucky shouts as he jumps up from his squat and begins to pace. 

“Have you heard from Y/n? There was a fire at the bookstore and – and, it’s fine. It wasn’t actually the store. That idiot neighbor of hers. The store is fine, but I can’t find them. I can’t find my girls, Nat. I know they are probably fine and I am probably freaking out for nothing, but I can’t find my girls.”

The line is silent for a longest second of Bucky’s life, and then the sweet sound of annoyance in Natasha’s voice flickers through the line, “Boy, are you dumb, James.” 

“Would everyone quit saying I’m dumb!” Bucky snaps.

He’s not in the mood today.

“When you quit acting dumb I will stop calling you dumb,” Natasha tells him with the quiet paitence of a mother. 

“Y/n took Ori to the planetarium today, and you just said your girls.” 

Bucky takes a deep breath, letting his panic rant replay in his head. He did. He’s never done that before. Never said the words out loud because they aren’t his girls – not really. It’s not real yet. It’s still just him and comet, and Y/n is… It’s only hope, a desperate wish he’s made so many times. But that’s all it is. A fantasy he may never have. 

“Look– just –-“

“Quit being stupid and go find your girls. Make sure they know they are your girls.”

“Bucky…” A soft, anxious voice calls from behind him, he spins around to see Y/n and Ori standing there, unharmed and holding hands looking thoroughly confused. He’s not this lucky. This has to be a fluke. If this isn’t some very vivid hallucination, he is buying a thousand of those damn wish bracelets. 

“Found ‘em. I gotta go Nat.” 

In three long strides, Bucky has Ori off the ground and in his arms. He has no idea where his phone went. Doesn’t matter. He can buy another one. His girls are safe and here and that’s all that matters. 

“What’s going on? Is everyone okay?” Y/n asks peering around the truck towards her shop that appears okay from the outside.

“Yeah,” Bucky croaks. “Yeah. There was an incident with your neighbor and a hot plate, but everyone is okay.” 

Bucky places several kisses to Ori’s face – her forehead, nose, and those chubby cheeks he adores so much. “Everyone is okay,” He repeats one more time, and it’s purely for his sanity. 

“Daddy, you’re being weird, and your beard is itchin’ me,” She says with a snicker and tries to wriggle free of the tight hold Bucky has on her. 

“I’m sorry, comet. I’m sorry. I just… I needed to hug you.” He chuckles at all her wiggles and takes the hint setting Ori back down on the sidewalk, and she immediately grabs Y/n’s hand.  Bucky steps towards Y/n and cups her face in his hands, thumbs softly running over her jaw and takes one final step closer, closing the gap between them.

“Bucky, are you sure everyone is okay? Are you okay?”  Y/n asks, fear and nerves making her voice tremble. Her free hand reaches up to wrap around Bucky’s arm, needing stability for whatever Bucky is about to tell her. 

“More than okay, Y/n,” he says with a smile and drops his forehead onto hers. “We got the call and… I might have panicked a bit. Okay, a lot. I panicked a lot. I needed to see my girls. I needed to know you were both okay. I had to know my girls were okay.”

“Your… Your girls?” Y/n squeaks, attempting to keep the hope out of her voice and missing the mark by a mile. She’s praying she didn’t misread this for the second time because her heart can’t go through that again. 

Bucky only grins. His lips ghost over hers as he breathes against them, “Yeah. My girls.”

There’s a sparkle in her eyes, and he knows she’s about to ask him if he’s sure this is what he wants – if he really meant it the way it sounds. Her hand tightens on his wrist, and she tilts her chin just in time for Bucky to catch those pretty lips he’s spent months dreaming about. He’s had countless daydreams about this moment, and it’s everything and nothing like he dreamt. It’s soft, at first. Hesitant on both sides. As if he is waiting for her to shove him away, but she doesn’t. She melts into him, and they both sink into each other, the way they should have from the very beginning. 

Through the years Bucky has kissed a few too many lips, and some had caused sparks, some didn’t, but none lit up every part of him as this one did. He can’t remember why they haven’t been doing this from the moment they met, and now that they have he never wants to stop.  The sweetness of her kiss leaves him breathless and begging for more. Whatever tomorrow she has in mind for Bucky is hoping it’s the match to his tomorrow. As long as their next steps are taken together, he can be okay with taking the long route to get here. 

Bucky slowly pulls away from her shaking lips, and Y/n immediately pulls him back only to be interrupted by Ori, “Are you gonna kiss all the time now? Because it’s a little gross.” 

“Gross?” Bucky huffs, dramatic and comical like always. Y/n snorts and covers her mouth with her hand, a giggly muffled “I’m sorry” slips through her fingers and it only sets Ori off on her own tittering fit. 

“I’ll show you gross, comet.” He swoops down and scoops her up, covering her face with kisses until she’s shouting through her giggles to stop. Bucky lifts her above his head and sets her on his shoulder – they aren’t getting out of his reach for the rest of the night, maybe the rest of the week. He drapes his right arm over Y/n’s shoulders and tucks her into his side, holding onto Ori’s ankle with his left hand. She spots his wrist, stripped and missing a particular piece of black leather. 

“Hey, what happened to your bracelet?” Y/n asks with a frown. 

Bucky looks down at his wrist that’s holding onto Ori’s ankle. Must have fallen off after he took his gloves off, when he was begging for a little more time and one more chance to do it all over. Bucky looks over at her and shrugs, answering her with a mile-wide grin, “My wish came true.”

Y/n grins in return and shakes her head, “Well, talk about lucky, December.”

“Lucky doesn’t begin to cover it, Beck.”

Previous // Epilogue

[yaya-does-things]

Leon x fem!reader: A Recollection

Prompt: “I’m sorry.... But I don’t remember you”

Word count: 5812

Alrighty. This is finally done. I took forever to finish it cuz um I’m slow and also I didn’t know how I would properly finish it. But now I have. So yeah. Hope ya’ll enjoy :)

~~~~~~

She had arrived in Wydon on a particularly cloudy day. A fresh coat of rain layered over the streets as people scurried through the town. Pokemon could be seen casually following in their owner’s wake. With the bustling about, and the splatter of water, (name) stood outside of the train station, looking around in wonder. She had never been in Wyndon before, seeing as it was a city she never visited when she was younger. She noted the stadium, the lovely way it looked like a rose. Then, she saw the hotel, all the way across the town, the clock tower seen in all of its glory. She smiled, and walked down the entrance. There, she saw a man and woman standing, waiting. They looked to her, the man smiling as he stopped twisting the longer piece of his hair. He walked towards her, extending his hand.

“Ah! You must be (name), am I right? I’m Rose, the League Chairman of Galar,” he said. (Name) took his hand, shaking it with a smile.

“Nice to meet you sir.”

“I hope your trip was alright?” he asked, referring to the large suitcase in her hands.

“Oh! Yes. It was very nice. Galar is so beautiful!”

“I’m glad you think so. Oleana, do you mind grabbing her luggage?” 

The woman beside him nodded, her face emotionless as she stepped toward (name).

“Oh, haha, no, it’s alright sir. I can --”

“But, I insist! Plus, Oleana is more than happy with carrying your stuff, isn’t that right?” Rose says, waving his hand offhandedly as he starts to walk. (Name) looks to Oleana, who nods, and quickly takes the luggage from her hands. A look of confusion is plastered on (name)’s face, but she shrugs off the peculiar relationship between the two, and walks after Rose, falling in step with him as they head to the hotel.

“So, have you ever visited Galar before?” he asks in an attempt at small talk. They pass a few buildings, which home the many people that live in Wyndon.

“Well, yes of course. I actually used to live here,” she replies, looking around as she speaks.

“Really? Well isn’t that exciting. You must be happy to be back,” he says. 

“Oh yes. I haven’t been here in years. I’ve missed it so much,” she sighs, looking to him. His face is neutral, a look of disinterest as opposed to the enthusiastic way he sounded. She’s silent for a bit, taking in the scenery as she ignores the discomfort of the Chairman’s company. His demeanor was welcoming, but gave off the feeling that this was just a chore. Something he didn’t need to do. “I thought the Champion would be here too.”

He doesn’t reply immediately, seeming as if other things are on his mind. A nudge from Oleana can be seen and he snaps into a jovial mood. 

“OH! Yes, he was, but alas he had family business to attend to.”

“Ah, I see…” she nods in understanding. A strong silence is placed in the air as they finish their walk to the hotel, Rose stopping at the entrance to turn to (name), his seemingly fake enthusiasm emerging again.

“Well! Here we are! The Rose of the Rondelands Hotel! It’s quite the elegant one, if I do say so myself,” he says, with a grand gesture to the large hotel in front of them. Just saying the name brings about a glow to him that hadn’t been expressed at all during their short time together. 

“It is rather lovely,” (name) agrees, hoping her approval will spark something other than discontent with the Chairman.

“Yes, it is,” he seemingly sighs. Then, he perks up and his usual business-like expression re-emerges onto his features. “Well, this seems to be the end of our tour!”

It wasn’t much of a tour.

“I guess I’ll leave you here. You can get settled in just fine, am I correct?” he asks with a sickeningly sweet smile.

“Oh… um… yes. I’m sure I can handle myself,” she replies with an uneasy nod. She glances at the large building again, feeling a bit discontent with his “helpfulness”. 

“Wonderful! Then, I’ll have Oleana return your luggage,” he says, nodding to the woman who (name) completely forgot about due to her silence. She steps forward, handing over the suitcase’s handle, the slightest tinge of relief and annoyance etched onto her stoic features. She steps back beside Rose, who beams at (name).

“Well, I guess this is where I take my leave, my dear,” he says, with a bow of his head. He turns to leave but soon stops in his wake to utter one final remark. “Oh! And Leon will definitely be here to accompany your trip around Galar soon enough. In fact, I messaged him just as you arrived, telling him not to keep you waiting for too long.”

“Oh, haha, you didn’t have to tell him that,” (Name) says, feeling bad for the Champion who has to deal with such a seemingly demanding Chairman. “I mean, he can take as much time as he needs!”

Rose chuckles in response. 

“Of course. Well, now this is the final time I will bid thee farewell. Good evening (name)!”  

And with a final wave of his hand, the Chairman walks away, seemingly heading to what Galar uses as a “flying taxi” system. 

“Right… Yes…” (name) mutters to no one in particular. She looks around, noting that no one is around, and shakes her head, as she heads up the stairs into the elegant foyer of the hotel. 

~~~

By the next two days, (name) had had it with Wyndon and the people of Galar. How could she be stuck in a hotel since her arrival? Why hadn’t the Champion been the one to whisk her away instead of that iffy Chairman? Her brain was jumbled with questions, annoyance and frustration entering her system as she paced inside her room. 

The hotel was extremely lavish, including everything a five star hotel should. Even her room was far too much, her own suite accompanied an entirely different room for a kitchen, and a bathroom that had its own spa-like bathtub. A shelf above lined with different soaps and scents to richly bathe in was also included, which wasn’t something she would much complain about, but found much too extravagant. Even the bedroom was over the top, the bed itself having a curtained canopy bed frame, with so many pillows that one could drown in. Now, she herself thought the suite was amazing, but as she was only one person, with rather small pokemon to accompany her, she found she missed the quaint hotels she usually stayed in when she traveled across the Regions. And her annoyance with Galar’s lushness didn’t help due to the fact she had yet to actually see any of it because of the Champion’s utter slowness to get to her. Perhaps she was being selfish, but he knew of her whereabouts and didn’t seem to put her as priority.   

And so, with a swift plop onto the nearest chair, she pulled out her Rotom phone, just about to dial the Chairman to give him a piece of her mind, when a sudden knock was heard from the door. She tilted her head as she stared at it, wondering if it would sound again, when yet another, much louder rap was heard on the wood. She stood, adjusted her outfit as needed, and headed to open it. With a click of the lock and a twist of the knob, the door opened, revealing a man she had never imagined she would have ever seen again.

“Lee?” she said, an astounded look on her face as she gawked at him. He looked rather different, with his hair much longer, and the mature stature of his face and form, but she could tell, this was the Leon she had known so long ago.

“Um… Hello? Are you (name)?” he asked, a confused look on his face as he responded to the unauthorized use of his nickname.

“Oh! Haha, yes! That’s me! (Name)!” she laughed nervously. Why was she all of a sudden so apprehensive to speak to him? Was his reaction not what she expected? She remembered him, but was it not a reciprocated remembrance?

“Uh… So, I’m so sorry to have kept you waiting here for so long. I’m sure Rose told you I had family business to attend to, but I really wanted to meet you when you got here! And um… mind if I come in?” he asks.

“Yes! Um, of course! How silly of me not to offer…” she mentally slapped herself as she opened the door wider. He entered with a grateful smile, walking over to the quaint living room and taking a seat on the sofa. She followed tenaciously, not understanding the confusion she was feeling.

“So, have you gone out to explore Wydon?” he asks in an attempt at small talk.

“Yes! I did actually. The-uh-the stadium is lovely.”

“Yeah! It really is!” he laughs. 

A silence emerges as they both grasp for something to say. 

“Want anything to drink?” she asks in a final attempt to keep the conversation from being dead.

“Yeah, uh, water would be nice?”

“Is that a question?” she quips, in an attempt at humor.

The move was not very effective.

“No! I mean if it’s too much trouble, I don’t want you to go out of your--”

“I was joking! It’s no problem at all…”

And to think things couldn’t get more awkward.

“Why did you call me ‘Lee’ when you opened the door?”

And yet they can. 

She froze from her spot at the fridge, her arm in midair as she was about to grab a water bottle. She quickly wracked her brain for an answer, but didn’t really know how to word it correctly, herself standing as she responded.

“O-oh, well I mean, I know you I guess.”

That didn’t come out the way she wanted.

“You know me?”

She could sense the raising of an eyebrow from his tone.

“Well, I don’t know-you-know-you per se… but I did…”

She turns to walk back to him, her suspicions about the raised eyebrow looking correct.

“You did?”

This conversation was getting worse by the second.

“You know what? Let’s just forget I even said---”

“No continue, you have me intrigued.”

She sighs.

“Well, I mean…” --Just ask it (name), there’s no going back now-- “Don’t you remember me?”

“Well, wouldn’t you think I would when I first saw you?”

“So… then you don’t…”

“I’m sorry… but I really don’t remember you.”

She sighs again in disappointment.

“Yeah… I figured you wouldn’t. It would be a long shot if you would have remembered me, seeing as we were so young when we met…”

A new look of curiosity enters his face.

“Young?”

“Yeah. We were just nine or ten I think. You and I would always hang out… don’t you remember that? And we would battle all the time…” she chuckles, “... and you would always win, with that awesome Charmander of yours. Do you still have him?”

He nods, patting the pokeball strapped to his waste.

“Ah. He must be such a big one now huh? A Charzard right?”

He nods again. There’s a look in his eyes that she can’t quite read, but she dismisses it and continues on with her explanation.

“Anyway, I guess since I moved away after you became the Champion, you forgot about me huh?”

This takes him aback. A newfound form of defense rising in his system.

“Wait a minute. You can’t just say that!”

“What?”

“That I ‘just forgot about you’ because I ‘became the Champion.’” he says, his defensive side on full blast as he uses air quotes to emphasize his disagreement. “I don’t even know you! And if I did, a friend would never assume that! If anything, it sure does sound like you were jealous of me if you can accuse me of that so easily.”

She scoffs with an offended shake of her head.

“Excuse me? I would never be jealous! I never was!”

“Then why don’t I remember you? Why didn’t you ever stay in contact with me if we were ‘such great friends!?’”

The air quotations used made that phrase sting, it piercing a wounded nerve that never fully healed in her heart.

“I never stayed in contact with you!? You can’t even remember! You don’t know SHIT!”

“Then enlighten me, oh knowledgeable one! Because your story isn’t turning out very believable.”

She stared at him, not able to process what to say. The pain in her heart resurfaced, something she hoped would never happen again. She knew she tried. Oh she tried so hard to remain friends with the boy who became Champion at such a young age. She wrote to him as often as possible. Replies only existed on occasions, and even then they were short and unmoving. So of course, soon enough, all efforts to keep a friendship afloat was thrown overboard. What would one expect from a pair of ten year olds with short attention spans? Not that he had one. No. His was the excuse of being constantly busy. Matches being forced upon a young boy. Exposure to the media. Instant fame. All the features that would keep someone busy. And of course, that forced the end to anything they could have possessed. The only way was for the one reaching out to stop all hopes. To learn to grow up. And to perhaps do so at the same rate that he endured.  

She looked down at the floor, face filled with disappointment. Perhaps there was no convincing someone of a lost friendship.

“I’m sorry. I… I made it up. So, much for a first impression I guess,” she tried, a smile forced upon her lips as she looked up. He stared at her, eyebrows knit together. How could she just say things like that? There was obviously something she needed to convince him of. To end all efforts meant she was truly making it up, or her nerves were all too much. He softened, sitting up and clearing his throat.

“I-it’s fine. Uh…” he didn’t know how to continue further. It was too much now. The mood was ruined. There was too much of a tension in the air for either of them to speak. 

They sat there, with a silence so thick neither felt like they could breath. Suddenly, she stood. She cleared her throat, and went to her room. He stared after her, dumbfounded. What was he supposed to do now? Was he supposed to apologize as well? He felt a pang of guilt, but he wasn’t sure of what for. He bit his lip, confusion filling his system. He also stood, placing a hand on his forehead. Perhaps it wouldn’t be right for him to accompany her across Galar after all. With one last glance to the room she disappeared into, he walked to the door, and opened it. He was just about to step out when he heard her voice.

“You’re leaving?”

He turned back.

“I thought you wouldn’t want me here anym--”

“No! I-I’m sorry… I was just gathering… my… stuff…” she said, eyes shifting to the side as she revealed her suitcase. He stared at her, yet again, with an inaudible “oh” escaping his lips. Silence resurfaced.

“You still want me to… help you out?” he asked, his hand rubbing at the back of his neck.

Oh, how much more awkward this has become.

“Well, I mean I waited for you this long.”

He looked up at her, seeing she was trying her best to lighten the mood. He nodded, his own attempt at a smile showing on his face. 

“Let’s go then,” he said, opening the door wider, allowing her to walk through first. Oh how interesting of an adventure this would be. 

~~~~~

To say things got better… would be a massive disappointment. The air about them was now always filled with a tinge of discomfort, neither knowing how to address the other’s obvious feelings. They traveled in silence, both on their phones doing nothing in particular, but looking as if they were busy to stifle any form of conversation. It wasn’t until they entered Wedgehurst Station that anything interesting was said.

 “Wow… it’s a lot smaller than I remember,” (Name) said, slowly turning to take in the sights all around her. “But much more beautiful.”

“Yeah. It really is,” Leon said, nodding in agreement as he himself looked around at the 

rolling fields that made up the small town. He stopped for a moment, then looked at her. “You’ve… been here?”

“Yeah, of course,” she replied, not once taking her eyes off of the fields. “I used to live here.”

He was taken aback by this. Was she really telling the truth about knowing him when he was young? He looked at her, watching her reaction as she longingly stared at the scene around them. It wasn’t long until a crowd formed however, the people finally noticing the Champion was in their midst. 

“Leon!”

“We’ve missed you!”

“It’s great to see you here!”

All this and more could be heard coming from the people surrounding him. His face broke out into a smile, greeting the people as if they were friends. She watched this, noticing his change in mood like a flick of a switch. To think he could so easily go from a serious face to something with so much eagerness to please with just a call of his name.

She moved to the side, watching as he greeted everyone, each person getting their time with their beloved Champion. The crowd soon grew smaller, until a single boy stood in front of him, the widest grin placed on his face.

“Lee!” the boy exclaimed. He looked oddly familiar, with the same colored locks and the same sparkle of golden eyes as the man in front of him. Leon chuckled, ruffling the boy’s hair as he pulled him into a hug. 

“Hop! What’s up mate? How’ve you been?” 

“LEEee! I literally just saw you a few days ago! But, I’ve been fine. I’m glad you're here! Did you take the person around Galar like you said you would?” the boy asked, looking up to his brother.

“Uh-huh. Actually she’s here right now,” Leon said, whispering the last bit into the younger’s ear.

Hop looked around, spotting (name) quickly as he beamed at her. She waved, her own attempt at a smile aimed at the boy who looked ever so much like Leon. 

“Hi! I’m Hop! You must be (name)!” he exclaimed, walking over and taking out his hand to shake.

“Aha, yes. That's me,” she replied, taking his hand in her own. 

“Lee’s told me all about you! You must have so many pokemon as someone who travels around the Regions often! Seen any rare ones?! How many do you have?! Can I see them!?” he exclaims. His enthusiasm is nice, but just the way he looks so much like his brother makes her tense. She doesn’t know how to respond, that is until Leon places a hand on the bouncing boy’s shoulder.  

“Haha. Alright Hop, let’s give her a break. You can ask her all about her Pokemon when we get settled at home.” -- the boy opens his mouth again, but Leon beats him to it -- “and after we eat dinner.”

Hop looks as if he physically deflates, his enthusiasm replaced with a glum look. It quickly returns, however, as he insists to take her luggage. She couldn’t say no, so she allowed him to do so. He soon starts running as he calls back he’ll beat the two to the house. Leon shakes his head at his overly hyper brother, (name) letting out a snicker as she watches him do so.

“What?” he asks, enjoying the fact that she is amused.

“Nothing,” she says, starting to walk in the direction that Hop went. He followed, wanting to start a conversation after such a long silence they both endured. 

“So… how long ago did you move away from Wedgehurst?” 

The question surprises her.

“Oh… well it was quite a long time ago. I would say… around 17 years?” she replies, a thoughtful look on her face as she tries to recall the exact time. “I don’t remember much. It was definitely a lot different…”

She trails off, not knowing what else to say. 

“Uh… yeah! I mean, um, when I was younger this place definitely wasn’t as lively as it is now… I mean, I guess that’s because everyone knows that this is my hometown…”  

“Ah. I see.”

The awkward silence is placed yet again. He wished he could figure out what else to say but he truly was at a loss of words. How to talk to her after such a blunder the first time they spoke was confounding to him. He just wanted to fix the relationship they never had. Or so he thought.

Nearing his parents house, (name) grew even more uneasy. It looked exactly the same as she remembered, the place she had visited oh-so-many times. Why did he have to forget her? It would make things all the worse if his parents were able to remember and not him. She stopped in her tracks, shaking her head as she stared down at the floor. 

“What’s wrong?” 

She heard him, but didn’t care to listen to his obvious sound of concern. She didn’t want anything to do with another situation that would lead to his utter confusion. The fact he didn’t remember hurt all too much, but if his parents could and he could not? It would cause all the more heartache. And so, with a swift turn, she ran. She had no idea where she would go, but as long as she didn’t have to step inside that house, everything would definitely be all the better.

Leon, however, didn’t know how to react. Her sudden exit was not what he was expecting, and he had no clue how he would comfort her now. He knew she was hurt. Knew that her story of a lost friendship was becoming all the more real as he learned more about her. He glanced at the door, only inches away, but knew leaving her alone would never be of help to her. In a final seconds decision, he quickly ran after her, only able to see her retreating form heading for the Slumbering Weald.

~~~~

How he found her, he had no idea. As someone who was terrible with directions, Leon finally found her sitting alone on an extremely old looking swing. The trees surrounding left the slightest gleam of light enter through the leaves, illuminating her hair and back. She hadn’t yet noticed him, but the sound of sniffles could be heard. 

SNAP

Her head flung up, turning to Leon as he slowly lifted his gaze from the twig he just stepped on. His eyes were wide, but softened as he noticed her features blotched with red, and tearstained. He stepped towards her, but stopped when she turned away.

“Why’re you here?” she asked, head bowed as a tinge of venom escaped her lips. He gulped, but continued to walk towards her, ‘till his figure towered over her sunken form.

“I wanted to know that you were okay…”

“You don’t need to. I’m fine, so you can just leave,” her hand waved him off, eyes still not meeting his own.

At this point, he didn’t know what to say. What was the point of following her when he knew she didn’t want him to be around? He sighed, placing a hand at the back of his head as he ran his fingers through his hair. What to do… What to do… he wondered to himself, and finally took in the scene around him. 

This patch of opening in the forest was something that seemed familiar to him. A place he remembered stumbling upon on his own when he was young. He had no idea how he made it there, but recalled returning whenever he wanted to be alone. Then he remembered the slightest of detail that made him turn to her ever so quickly. 

“How did you know about this place?” he asked, a sense of hope in his voice as he started to understand.

“I… I stumbled upon it when I was young… It was my--”

“Quiet place?” he finished. She raised her head again, turning to stare at him in wonder.

“Yes… it was…”

“I used to come here too. You know, when I just wanted to get away.”

A moment's flash, and the recollection of a girl sitting on this exact swing entered his mind.   

“Could-could you tell me more about how we met?”

The sudden question made her stare at him even more, confusion falling over her as he looked back into her glossy eyes. She gulped.

“Why do you want to know? I thought you didn’t care.”

He cringes at her words, his brows creasing as he looks to the floor.

“No never. I-I do care…” he looked back up to her to finish, “just tell me. Please?”

Her eyes searched his, moving over his features to see if there was any falter in what looked like sincerity. She found none. She sighed.

“I first met you when I was what? Maybe 9? 10--?”

“When? Where?”

She tilted her head, looking at him in disapproval from his interruption. He sheepishly looked away in his embarrassment from eagerness. She sighed again.

“I was on my way here actually, when I could hear the softest voice speaking in the woods ahead. In fact, in the place where I was headed. I was careful. Quiet. And then, I saw you with your charmander, speaking to it in the most loving way a ten-year-old could speak to something. It looked hurt from what I could tell, but you were comforting it in such a way, I wanted to know what you were saying. So I stepped out. I guess I had made too much noise because you immediately looked up. Which also drew the attention of your pokemon.”

Leon looked at her with such an intensity, trying to search his mind's eye of any recollection of an event like this. She continued, ignoring his strong gaze.

“It got scared, from what I saw, and you yourself seemed pretty startled. I mean, you hid the poor thing from me, as if I hadn’t seen it already. I didn’t dare step closer, only because I didn’t want you or it to go anywhere. Not like you could… but still….

“I tried talking to you. I was an extremely shy child back then, so just allowing myself a ‘hello’ took a bit of courage to say. I walked closer, and crouched just in front of you, each of us just staring at the other, not knowing what to say. At this point you had a curious look in your eyes, as if you wanted to say something, perhaps to ask how I ended up in your secret place…. Our secret place. And just as I was about to ask who you were, your charmander ran up to me, taking a defensive turn to try and protect you. I of course got scared, myself not owning a pokemon of my own and not sure of how I was supposed to defend myself. So, I ran. And that’s how we met.”

She stopped her story, blinking at Leon as he shook his head in confusion.

“That’s it!?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s how we met?” he sounded incredulous.

“Mmhm.”

“Then how exactly did we become friends?”

“Well that’s the question now, isn’t it?”

“Well I am asking it.”

She laughed.

“Okay, fine. Next time we met, I thought I would be sure to be here,” -- she motioned to the spot they were in -- “before you. So, I would come everyday, the same time I remembered you being here. I went everyday for weeks, and one day, I realized perhaps I would never get to see the golden eyed boy with the feisty charmander. So here I was, sitting on this exact swing, thinking to myself, when I heard steps. I looked up, and woah and behold, you were there.”

His eyes widen at this revelation.

“I remember this!”

“Huh?” 

He nods vigorously now, another flood of memory entering his mind as he jumps back.

“Yes! I do! I remember you, sitting right there! In my spot! And I remember I got so mad that --”

“That you challenged me to a pokemon battle?” she intervened, a blossom of hope entering her eyes as she eagerly sat up.

“Yeah! And I remember, I remember you just stared at me. You stared with those big… pretty... eyes… and gave me that look of utter confusion… and wonder… and….” he trailed off, looking at her the same way he did as a little boy. He always thought she was pretty, even as a young lad. He remembered how her eyes sparkled when she tilted her head, not understanding his sudden attempt at a challenge. And how he remembered his contempt when she told him she had no pokemon of her own to battle with. And then, he remembered his own wonder, at how in the world this girl could have no pokemon of her own to love and to hold. 

He looked at her for a few moments longer, her face expressing the same emotion he just described, waiting for him to continue. He smiled and went on. 

“And I gave up when you told me you had no pokemon. Instead, I found it was my duty to help you get one of your own, so that we could battle and I could regain my spot for my own… but that didn’t happen now did it?”

She shook her head.

“We decided to share it,” she replied.

Leon smiled even wider than before.

“Yeah. We did.”

There was a long pause in the air. A silence that had risen between them yet again, but this time something that was welcomed and not filled with awkwardness or discomfort.

“So… you do remember?” she asked, standing from her seat on the swing, but holding onto the rope that held it up.

“Yeah. I do.”

And then his happiness turned to sadness as he recalled the rest of the story.

“I remember you telling me right before my challenge with the champion that you were leaving. That you were moving away from Galar and probably never coming back. And I remember getting so mad at you. Mad and sad. And it was because of those feelings that I was able to beat the Champion. But it was also that feeling that caused me to push you away.”

She gasped, looking into his golden eyes as she herself recalled the betrayal felt when her only friend started to push her away.

“I-I thought that since you were leaving, it would be best to just not talk to you anymore. And since I was the new Champion, it made it all the more easier. So when you left… it didn’t make a difference to me… because I was already prepared to forget about ever seeing you…”

She looked to the ground, his honesty hurting her more than he could imagine. 

So her attempts at mending their friendship was futile after all. It wasn’t because his Champion duties took away his time. It was because he truly did not care. And with this can of worms opened, it only made the heartache hurt more. 

A sniff, and then her eyes welled with tears, herself biting her lip in an attempt at trying not to cry. Her attempts betrayed her when he said more.

“I remember you sending me letters now. I read each one. And all they did was rekindle the fire of sadness that was in my ten year old heart. All I wanted was for my friend to be there with me along the way. To be of help when I needed you. So that’s why, I don’t remember. You leaving hurt me so much, that I guess I must have pushed the very thought of you away.”

And then the floodgates broke. A sob exited her lips as she covered her mouth, and with that one sound, she was engulfed into his arms. He held her as she cried, caressing her hair in attempts to comfort her. He let her cry as much as she wanted, because he knew this was what she needed. A way to help cope with her feelings after such a long time of remembering such a heartache. When there were no tears left to cry, she leaned back in his arms. Looking into her tearstained face, one last question entered his mind.

“Why didn’t you just forget me? Why keep this inside of you for so long?”

She didn’t look into his eyes, but had an unfocused stare that she placed on his chest.

“I guess it’s because you meant so much to me. You were practically my first friend. The person who caught me my first pokemon. Who challenged me to so many pokemon battles that always ended in your success. The only one that I enjoyed spending time with because you were so fun to be around. I guess that’s why. Knowing you could so easily forget is the reason why it hurt so much. Because I cared so much.”

He nodded, not knowing what to say. Instead he lifted her chin, forcing her to look him in the eyes. They stayed like this for a few moments, then he smiled.

“Geez, I’m glad I got to meet you again. Maybe it wasn’t in the best way to rekindle our friendship, but it was definitely the most interesting. The question is, are you alright with forgiving me for being such a dummy for so long?”

She giggled as she wrapped her arms around him again. 

“Of course I am,” she said, her head resting on his chest.

“Good. I’m glad.”

They finally let go of each other, a new air about them as they sighed in relief.

“So, ready to get back to my place?”

“Yes. Definitely.”

“Think you could lead the way? I get lost easily…”

She laughed in response, placing a hand on his shoulder as she shook her head.

“Yeah. Sure. Come on you forgetful man,” she laughed as she walked back through the trees.

“Hey! I’m not that forgetful!” 

“Haha okay bud.”

“I’m serious!”

And so, perhaps her trip back to Galar wasn’t as bad as she thought it would be, now that things were out in the open and everything was alright with Lee.

[oyesmendes]

not your typical thunderstorm

a/n: ashton. fucking. irwin. and the rain. these things do things to me and i do things to my writing. sorry ¯\_(ツ)_/¯  

The typical human would describe this kind of weather as wet, dark, dreary and sad. This wasn’t the case for Maya though, anyone who knew her knew she loved the rain more than she loved sunshine. She found safety and peace in the falling droplets, the pitter patter sound against the window was pleasing to her ears and the water somehow always had a way of drowning her emotions out. Except this time instead of enlightening her, it seemed like the rain was amplifying her pain, further darkening the clouds looming over her head. No matter how much rain was falling down, it felt like a weight on her shoulders, a painful squeeze to her chest. She had her head resting on Luke's shoulders, feet draped across Michael's lap while Family Guy played in the background. Her focus was more on the rain hitting the window pane, mocking the tears rolling down her cheeks. It felt like they were in a game of who could cry harder - the sky or Maya? And obviously the sky would be the clear winner. Maya recalled the situation that had happened a mere hour ago, playing it back in her mind frame-by-frame.  

-

She was pacing the small home studio in the basement, hands crossed in front of her chest, mind a solid lump of mess. Ashton was stood at the side of the drum kit, leaving a gap between them. But to Maya, this gap was about to feel larger than it looked. She had been so excited for Ashton to come home from the studio today so they could pack for their two week trip to her home town. They had been planning to visit her family for months and they finally found a date where both of them didn't have work. What she didn’t expect when the front door opened was three other boys spilling into the house, staying for dinner and then have Ashton tell her that he couldn’t make the trip because they had to work on the album. She didn’t expect to be whisper shouting in their basement, with Ashton and her relationship hanging on to a thread. They were brewing their own storm, and it wasn't the kind anyone would enjoy.

“We’re supposed to finally see my family, Ashton.”

“I know, but the album still isn’t complete and we need to finish-“

“We’ve been planning this for months! My family is so excited to finally see you in person, and now you say you can’t come. What am I supposed to tell them?” Her voice was still soft but the anger was still bubbling in her chest.

“Baby, just tell them that I need to finish things up at work. Why is that so difficult?”

“It wouldn’t be difficult if I hadn’t already used that excuse twice this year, Ashton!” Maya flailed her arms, pacing along the borders of the studio.

“Does it matter? This is important”

“Are you saying that my family isn’t important?” She stopped in her tracks and turned to face him but all she could see was his back. Ashton’s shoulders were tense, his body wanting nothing more than to curl into itself. He didn’t mean to say those words, but annoyance took over his body and he whispered out, “Maybe they aren’t.”

She drew in a sharp breath, rubbing her temples. It wasn't worth it to get angry, but who listens to their mind nowadays?

“You did not just say that.”

"Maybe I did.” False confidence was growing in his chest. He didn’t want to be angry but he wanted to dominate the argument. Men are stupid.

"Ashton Fletcher Irwin, are you really being serious right now?"

"Yes Maya! Maybe I am being serious! Maybe my career is more important than a stupid trip to see your family! I don't know why you're making such a big deal out of this!" A soft gasp escaped her lips when the words flew out of Ashton's mouth. She didn't think he would ever feel that way, let alone say it out loud. The room stayed silent for a few moments, Maya racking her brain for the right words.

"I don't know if you've noticed, but this is a big deal for me. I've hardly brought a guy home in the past twenty two years of my life. So when I said I would like you to meet my family - it is a huge fucking deal. So yeah, big deal to me, Ashton.“ She sighed softly, her eyes focused on her manicured toes. After her words, realisation suddenly hit Ashton. He reached out for Maya, only for her to flinch and move away.

"Don't-not right now, I’m still talking.” Ashton nodded, moving back into the corner he was standing in. He let her speak, “You're it for me, Ash. I don't know if I am for you, but you're my forever. Ever since I laid my eyes on you at that stupid art exhibition, I was all in. So if you don't want to do this - this relationship, meeting my family and being a part of my life, then tell me. Don't let me stick around like an idiot to give you my everything." Maya finally looked up, eyes meeting Ashton's glassy ones. He didn't speak, just watched her walk out of the room with her head hanging low.

-

The boys were still sprawled on the couch, a movie playing on the TV while they waited for the couple. They knew the pair were in an argument the moment Maya dragged Ashton down to the basement after dinner. Their eyes followed Maya when she emerged from the basement sniffling softly. She entered their shared bed room, closing the door gently to shut out the noise.

Ashton still stood in the studio, feet planted to the ground. He knew he should run after her, apologise, but he couldn’t bring himself to move even an inch. He thought over her words again and again.

You're my forever. Don't let me stick around like an idiot to give you my everything.

He bent over, palms resting firmly on his thighs as he took a sharp breath in.  

“Ash… you okay?” Calum padded down the stairs softly. Ashton shook his head, lips trembling softly and tears threatening to fall.

“I-I fucked it up, Cal”

“What did you do?” He put his hand on Ashton’s back, bending down to meet his eyes.

“I told her she wasn’t important, and that I couldn’t go back to meet her family because we had to work on the album.”

“Is it true?”

“Is what true?” Ashton was now standing upright, head still down as he leaned against the padded walls.

“Do you think she’s important?”

“Of course I do! She means the whole world to me. When she told me I was her everything, I didn't say anything back. I was too in shock to do anything and now I fucked it all up. I love her, Cal. Maya's it for me, I want to marry her and have kids and buy a house and grow old with her.” His head was rolled back, a defeated sigh escaping his lips.

“Then I think you should tell her”

-

Maya was throwing clothes into her suitcase when Luke and Michael peeked their heads into the room. She gave them a tight lipped smile as they came in, opening their arms wide so she could fall into their embrace. She sobbed into Luke’s shirt, Michael rubbing her back as she cried, the tears rolling down faster than the rain.

“He-He said I wasn’t important. He didn't say he loved me back.” she stuttered. Luke pulled her away, cupping her face in his hands.

“That is not true. Sure he might have said it in the heat of the moment, but we all know he’s so madly in love with you, M”

“What Luke said is right, Ashton loves you so much. He didn’t mean it, you guys just need to work it out slowly” Michael pulled her into his arms, swaying from side to side. They laid on the bed, Family Guy running in the background on the TV. Her world felt like it was crashing down, piece by piece, caving into her chest. It felt like an eternity before the room door opened slightly, Calum's head peeking through the gap. Michael gestured for him to come in, with Ashton following closely behind Calum.

Maya sat up from her position, Luke and Michael getting up from the bed and leaving to join Calum. Ashton climbed onto the bed, sitting in front of her. He reached cautiously for her hands, gripping them tightly when she didn’t resist his touch. Their eyes met and the sadness was mirrored between them. It’s true - they loved each other so much, no one could ever explain it. They would go to the ends of the earth for the other if it means they could be happy together.

He leaned towards her with their foreheads pressing against each other, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that you weren't important, that meeting your family wasn't important.”

“And I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have overreacted like that" She rested her hand on his chest.  

“You had every right to react in that way.” He stroked her cheek, “I was being stupid, and after what you said, I was so afraid to lose you..”

“You would never lose me, gorgeous. I told you, you're it for me." Maya’s hand now grazed his jaw.

“Even after I hurt you?”

“You can hurt me a million times and I'd still love you.” This sort of love was fatal at their lows but the best at their highs. Nothing could bring them down even if all the forces of the world tried.

At her words, he pressed his lips to hers. A weight was lifted off her shoulders as the feelings coursed through their veins. The rain was now replaced by sunshine and a soft chorus of cheers filled the deathly silence. Everything was going to be alright.

[dadzawa-adopt-dabi]

meet cute pt2 (everybody knows)

Shigaraki does end up texting the number Natsou gave him, a lot more often than he expected to. It isn’t a good idea, he knows. However it does prove handy when Shigaraki needs to get into the library or when he needs to know how deep a cut has to be before you need stitches. So he uses the excuse that Natsou is useful and keeps texting him.

Even when Natsou continues to flirt with him and starts giving him the nickname of ‘cutie’. It caused him to blush every time. Natsou hadn’t gotten tired of watching him get flustered yet.

“Hey Nat can you come grab a book for me? I can’t reach it and I haven't seen a stool or anything around”  Shig asks.

He gets up from his textbooks and comes over.Instead of following where Shigaraki was pointing though he wraps his hands around Shigaraki’s waist and lifts him up.

“This work cutie?”

Shigarakis stomach swoops pleasantly, shit Natsou was strong. He lets his brain take a few minutes to reboot. 

What was he after again? Was Natsou even struggling to hold him up as he tried to repair his brain? 

“Really? I've told you I have a destructive quirk, what if I had used it on you?” He fakes some annoyance while he grabs the title he had been looking at. 

“You wear gloves all the time just so you don’t accidentally destroy something with a quirk you've lived with for 16 years. I highly doubt you’d ever use your quirk on me without meaning to” he reasons.

“Put me down” Shigaraki demands and holds on tightly to Natsou’s well muscled arms until his feet are safely on the ground again. Just because Natsou might drop him and no other reason.

“Maybe I just wanted to hold you for a bit? Besides, your face is even cuter when you're flustered Shig.” Natsou smirks.

“You really need to get your damn eyes checked.”  Shig sasses as he heads back to the tables.

“I’m pretty sure I can see just fine.” Natsou shoots back as follows him.

They study in relative silence for a few more hours until Natsou starts to pack up. It’s a little earlier than he normally does and Shigaraki glances up in confusion.

“Want to get some coffee? I know a cafe nearby that's 24 hours and you're here later than I am every night. I refuse to believe you can do that without caffeine.” Natsou asked as he shoved the last notebook into his messenger bag.

“You just want an excuse to take me out,'' Shigaraki grumbled.But he smiled while doing so. He was sweet and seemed to mean all the compliments he kept throwing Shigs way. If Natsou ever actually asked him out on a date he would go. Man is way out of his league and Shig knows it, he probably was just joking. He started packing up anyways, he has to be up in a few hours for LoV business.

“So that’s a yes?” Natsou grins and adjusts his bag a little on his shoulder.

“Wait, you're serious? You're actually asking me out?”

“Wait, you thought I was joking about finding you attractive?”

“Yes? Not in like a bad way I guess, but I didn't think you would seriously want to take me out either?” Shigaraki winced his own self doubt in his voice. He sure as fuck didn’t sound like the leader of the most dangerous villians in japan right now.

“Well, I wasn't. I'm serious. Would you like to go on a date and come get some coffee with me Shig?” Natsou smiled and held out his hand.

“You know what? Why the hell not. I’d love to Natsou.” Shig shoved his notebook into his own backpack.

“You seem to care about your roommates a lot? What’s the story there?” Natsou asked as they left the library and started walking to the cafe.

“I'll tell you what the story is if you tell what the story is with you studying your ass off in a library by yourself every night is” Shigaraki said hoping Natsou wouldn’t actually answer and drop the subject. He has no idea how to explain the league to anyone not in it. How close they are and what they've gone through.

“My dad is an ass hat who only thinks about quirks and power. He’s wealthy but wont help me out, so I've got to keep my grades up for a free ride scholarship.”Natsou didn't look at shigaraki as he spoke in a calm voice.

“Quirks aren't everything and I think you're doing more for society as is than anyone else is right now, heros are glorified cops. On a power trip. The general public’s reaction to them makes it so much worse. No one helps out their community anymore.” Shigaraki didn’t sound as crazy as he once would have. Tearing down society would only create more situations like what the league members had come from.

“My roommates and I are very close to answer your question. We’ve all had a rough time and some bad luck. So we tend to look out for each other.”

“How’s your friend with the villainous quirk doing? Or is there a better term I can use for that? Quirks don't make a person so it feels wrong to call her a villain based on that? I have to admit i don't have many friends and don't know what most people with quirks like that call them.”

“The fact that you're asking is everything she could ask for. Just call it a quirk. She actually likes her quirk; it's everyone else that's the problem.” the fact that Toga is a villain didn’t really matter. So was he and yet he was out on a date with a pre med student who was way out of his league.

“We’re here, I think you're going to like this place.” Natsou brings them to a stop outside a small cafe.

“You brought me to a cat cafe?” he whispers. There’s a black cat about a year or so old that’s walking back and forth along the window. When Shigaraki makes eye contact it puts it paw up against the window and paws at the glass separating them. He can faintly hear the purr through the glass.

“If there’s one thing cuter than cats it's a cutie holding a cat” Natsou squeezed his hand in his.

“I still can’t believe you think I'm cute?” It was just a little unbelievable to shig, that someone so attractive looking and smart in a field where he could truly help others would take an interest in him.

“You're very cute Shig, like how you hide behind your hair when you're flustered and how you blush when I give you compliments, what made me want to ask you out is that you care so much about your friends. you sneak out every night into a library and study as hard as a premed student.” he states seriously and when Shigaraki goes to hide his face behind his hair again he grabs his chin gently, so he can look him in the eyes.

“I-Okay. You know I find you attractive too right?” 

“I hope so! You're finally on a date with me!” Natsou jokes and holds open the door for him.

The cafe is split in two parts inside. One half has the cats and some chairs and toys set up among the cat trees and beds.The other half of the cafe is covered in plants. Every table has at least 2 and the door has some sort of exoctic and colorful vine growing all around it. If Shigaraki didn't know better he would say it moved when they came in. There's no cheerful bell to announce them coming in but the barista behind the counter seems to hear the door open anyways and greets them without looking up from wiping down the counter.

“Hello, I'll be with you in just one moment.” 

Shigaraki froze, he had forgotten that he was a nation wide known villain and that he would be recognized if he did something as simple as go to a cat cafe.

Shigaraki stood awkwardly next to Natsou and looked at the menu. He had no idea what a purrachino was or a meowchiato but the cats next to the images looked adorable. He ended up ordering a random drink. Hoping the red head wouldn’t look up the entire time he was there.

Natsou ordered tea and brought out his wallet. 

“Your total comes to - Oh i know you.” The redhead who’s name tag read kurama stared at Shigaraki in shock.

He couldn’t believe he had forgotten, That his roommates and himself were all wanted villains. Very famous wanted villains. He winced and started trying to wiggle out of one glove while the other stayed in Natsou’s hand. He would probably have to decay kurama and fight his way out to avoid being arrested.

“Hello , it’s nice to see you again.” he tried to play off like he knew the barista. Maybe buy himself a few seconds and get the damn glove off. He was going to miss the quiet evenings with Natsou.

Kuruma looked down at his hand linked in Natsou’s and his attempts to get out of his glove.

“It’s okay! Um we didn’t get along in school but everybody gets a new lease on life or something right?” kurama smiled at them and set about taking the money from Natsou. Acting like nothing was wrong and even throwing Shigaraki a lifeline to get himself out of the situation.

“I hadn’t thought I would see anyone from umm school.” He mutters and as hard as it is for him to not look at the floor he holds eye contact with kurama.

“I won’t tolerate the same kind of trouble you got up to in school in my cafe but you're welcome here anytime you want some coffee and a quiet place to bring your friend” kurama smiled and placed the hot drink’s down down.

“Can we go see the cats?” Shigaraki asked to change the subject. Not willing to look a gift horse in the mouth but also really wanting to pet the cats pacing alongside the window in the other room.

“Hmm no one else should be coming in for a couple hours and although we usually lock them away at night i can make an exception for you two.”He grabs a set of keys off the wall and lets them in. 

“Don’t pick them up but we can see if they will sit in our laps when we sit down.” Natsou waves his fingers at a giant orange cat that was beelining for him.

“Do you  come here often? That one seems to know you.” Shigaraki sat in a nearby chair and the cat black cat from before crawled into his lap. He stroked the fur baby and he tried to find the name off one of the sheets on the wall. The sheets on the wall had their pictures names and information about how to adopt them.

“I do, I would take this big guy home but my dorm doesn't allow cats. The guy you're holding is called spade. He doesn't usually warm up to people.” Natsou said and watched as two more cats came and curled up around Shigaraki. Another cat came and curled up in between them an older tortoise shell named turtle. A tiny white one started dragging a wand toy over.

Natsou smirked and took out his phone. His boyfriend was being buried in cats and it was too cute to not become his background.

Shigaraki sipped at his coffee and stroked the cats around him. He hadn't been sure what it was when he ordered it but it tasted heavenly. A mix of coffee, chocolate and something that made it slightly spicy with whip cream. 

“I took a picture of you for my background. Is that okay?''

“Only if you don’t show anyone else” He had already gotten lucky with the barista recognizing him and not calling a hero or freaking out.

“Aww are you embarrassed? you look so cute here!” he teased and Shig tried to turn his face away before Natsou could see him blush.

“A little” he admitted and started playing with the toy the cat had dragged over to him.

“At what? Me taking pictures? Me taking pictures of you or me talking pictures of you playing with the cats?”  he gently prodded.

“Both I guess?”

“Look at how cute you look Shig” Natsou showed him the photo he had just taken.

The photo showed Shigaraki differently than he was used to seeing himself. He looks normal for once. In jeans and a regular shirt instead of dirty sweats. Hair cleaned, brushed and bangs pulled back on top of his head with a hair tie stolen off Magne. He actually looks decent if you ignore the scars on his neck or face.

“Yeah I'm okay with it I guess, you know you're kinda a sap. Calling me a cutie all the time and paying for me. You're even taking pictures of our first date and setting me as your background.” he smiled.

“I mean it when I say I like you Shig and if we get the chance to let this go somewhere I really want to be able to look back on our first date”

“A sap. You're a complete sap.”

‘Says the guy buried in cats- hey charlie! You've betrayed me.” the orange cat that had been getting attention from Natsou moved on to Shigaraki and started rubbing up against him. The tiny white cat that had been playing had exhausted herself and already joined the black one in his lap.

“I'm being buried in cats Nat! Help!” Shigaraki, honest to god giggled. They stayed for about a half hour and then had to leave. Their time was up.Shigaraki had a team to lead , although he told Natsou he had to work, and Natsou had to go to class. 

Kurama stopped them on their way out the door.

“A few years ago I needed a fresh start and I got one, if you are working towards the same thing I'm happy to help Shigaraki san.”He gave Shigaraki a fern with purple flowers.

“A gift , it will help you on your way to a fresh start” he smiled and wrote out a short list of instructions while they waited.

“Thank you kurama san.” Shigaraki says and checks his gloves before he takes the potted plant. It shivers twice when he takes it and then is still.

Natsou smirks at Kurama and nudges Shigaraki's shoulder.

“He gave me a plant too the first time I came in. They seem to be hard to kill. No matter how often I forget to water it, it always bounces back to life.” He smiled and grabbed a knitted hat from a box.

“If I got you a cat ear hat would you wear it?” 

“Give it here and we’ll see” Shigaraki snatched the bright blue blob of fabric and immediately put it on. Once it was on he quickly pulled out his phone and took a selfie with Natsou. Natsou was looking at Shig and had one arm around his shoulder. You could practically see the hearts in his eyes as he looked at Shig. 

“Now I have a new background too” he put his phone away and went to put the knitted hat back in the box Natsou had gotten it from.

“You can keep the hat’ kurama started shutting off lights as he shooed the two of them out.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, and it's too late for you to argue with me.  I have to close up shop so i'm afraid i have to kick you two love birds out.”

“We’re going kurama, thank you for everything.” Natsou grabbed Shigaraki’s hand and pulled them out of the cafe.

“I guess we have to go our separate ways now” Shigaraki pulled the cat hat back on. 

“Yeah i guess so,but um you have my- can i kiss you Shig?” Natsou blurted out.

“Please” Shig met Natsou halfway. Leaning up to meet Natsou’s lips. It was sweet and chaste and everything he wanted a first kiss to be. Soft and pliant and with someone he really liked being with.

“Call me?” Natsou leaned down for another kiss.

“We got stuff to do Nat, I’ll call you later tonight.” Shigaraki pulled himself away from Natsou and started his long walk home.

@night-owl-1234 after a long wait i have a update!

[wintersxsoul]

You Saw Me (6)

Summary: You have the life you’d always dreamt of. The job of your dreams, the perfect boyfriend and the best group of friends. But what happens when that life is not enough and your soulmate is not who you thought it would be?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: Angst.

A/N: My lovely @all1e23 is the beta for this series so give her some love because she has to put up with my infinite bullshit because my brain was fried. A reblog and comment are always appreciated and what feeds my soul to keep writing. I hope you enjoy this as much as I am. In order to be tagged, please send an ask, I won’t be counting comments/reblogs or pm, I am a mess and forget it so please do it!

Nat paced the room, frustrated with herself and with Bucky, who was too focused on his play that totally zoned her out.

“Dude are you even listening to me? She is fucking devastated. I’ll need you to be there for her, just in case.” Nat glared at her friend, the indifference he treated you with always got the best of her. Bucky looked up, tearing his eyes from his music sheet to look at her.

“I don’t give a fuck about what is going on, I don’t want to talk to you about this again.” His gaze softened as soon as he saw the concern in Nat’s eyes.

“Please, Buck. Do it for me at least.” She pleaded, and he nodded for the sake of her friend.

“I’ll try my best.”

“Why do you still hate her so much? It was n-”

“Tash, don’t.” Bucky cut her, already knowing where the conversation was leading and he didn’t need to have that talk now. He looked at his left arm, the two red triangles bringing a smile to his lips.

“I miss us sometimes, you know?” Nat pressed her thumb on his tattoo and caressed his skin. He looked at her, his eyes full of adoration and respect.

“I know you do, Tash.” Bucky caressed Nat’s left shoulder, where the red star he drew for her was tattooed.

“These tattoos are probably the best decision we ever made.” Bucky smiled and she took the music sheet from his hands.

“Okay, but the song?” She smirked and he rolled his eyes, fighting his smile with no avail.

“You know what? I’m done here. Won’t answer more questions.” Natasha knew Bucky’s behaviour was his way of eating his own feelings, the nervousness and anxiety of the night finally catching him in the worst moment ever.

You stared at the rainy street through the large windows of your office, the grey clouds threatening to cover the last rays of sun of the cold Friday afternoon. You sighed sadly and turned to look at your desk, the photo you had of your group and Jake, staring back at you. You and Jake were both laughing at something Sammy had said about the snow, while Bucky and Steve were rolling their eyes, Nat was next to Sam staring at you smiling fondly. It was the first Christmas you spent together in sophomore year, the year you all met. It seemed so far away, almost nine years had passed without even realizing it. Five years being a teacher, and even though you loved your job, you still felt like it wasn’t the right place for you. You had so many dreams when you started college, so many things you wanted to do and everything was forgotten once you got the job.

The whole week, you had drowned yourself on delayed work, papers to note and exams to prepare. You arrived home so tired each night you couldn’t even bring yourself to have dinner or a soothing and calming shower, so when you got home on Friday, everything sunk in. The steaming bathroom and the sound of the burning water hitting your skin was everything your mind needed to start playing tricks, the sleep deprivation and hunger making it much harder for you to not have a breakdown.

His laugh echoed on your small bathroom, making you giggle uncontrollably. Jake was tickling you in order to coax you into the shower with him, of course he won so you ended up under the water, clothes included.

You wrapped your body in a towel, shivering as you walked out of the warmness of the bathroom and into your room. Even though you had changed your bed sheets and tried a few incenses, Jake’s scent was still lingering. You sat on the carpeted floor and brought your legs up, resting your chin on your knees. You hugged yourself while you sobbed, totally forgetting you were naked and cold. You stayed like that so long your body started to ache, so you stood up and grabbed your phone, instantly dialing Nat. She was the only you could call since Sam, Steve and Peggy couldn’t be on their phones during the trip due to some dumb rules of team bonding or whatever.

Nat wasn’t answering and after trying to call desperately several times, you gave up. Your fingers grazed upon Bucky’s name, unsure of what you were supposed to do. Nat had told you that you could call him if you needed someone to talk to if she wasn’t available, but you knew calling him was digging your own grave. Years of hostility, hatred, fights and glares wouldn’t be that easier to forget and much less in the mental state you were at.

“Y/n, this is Bucky, my boyfriend. Buck, this is Y/n, my new bestie.” You smiled at Nat’s boyfriend and stretched your hand so he could shake it, but he just glared at it before looking at you and turning around, leaving you frozen on your spot. Your hand dropped to your side and you frowned, looking at Nat, waiting for an explanation. She shrugged and added that maybe he had had a bad day, turning around and going after him. That was the first and only time you ever spoke to him nicely.

Next time you saw each other, he was already Nat’s ex, and after asking her insistently what had happened, she told you that they just fell apart. Seeing how devastated she was, how Bucky behaved around her and how big of a jerk he was to you, you put two and two together and came to the conclusion that he had broken her heart. Your hatred only worsened with his snarky comments, glares and just his complete and utter childish behaviour. While in college, you barely saw each other due to work and lectures and since he went to Julliard and not the NYU, you didn’t coincide at all. You barely attended parties or gatherings he went to, fortunately he tried to avoid you as much.

You stared blankly at the locked screen and with a heavy heart, you unlocked it and pressed on his number to call him. You silently hoped he would forget for a bit all the animosity, because you really needed company, the walls of your apartment making you feel trapped.

“Hello?” You said with a shaky voice, swallowing a sob, trying to sound decent.

“Who’s this?” Bucky answered in a tone you’ve never heard on him before. He sounded so sweet, it didn’t even sound real. You were so used to his growls and monotone voice that his answer just caught you off guard.

“I’m...It’s Y/n.” You cleared your throat before speaking, trying not to cry. He huffed in annoyance and you felt his entire demeanor change as soon as he knew who it was.

“What?” He let out, more a grunt than a word. You inhaled and exhaled a few times before speaking.

“I know I’m probably the last person on earth you wanna see right now…” He hummed affirming what you just said, but waited for you to finish what you wanted to say, even though he already knew.

“But I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind to meet?” He puffed, clearly annoyed and mumbled something you couldn’t catch. You heard him talking to someone and a feminine giggle reached your ears. You instantly felt bad for calling but as soon as he answered, all you wanted to do was murder him.

“I don’t know who you think you are, expecting us all to stop our lives just because you are sad.” And like that, he hanged up. You were speechless, his words hitting you harder than a punch. He was right and that’s what hurt the most. You’d just let your own sadness to eat you alive and waited for the rest to save you, not even sparring a second of your time to do it yourself.

You dragged your tired body through your apartment, getting dressed with something warm and cozy, taking your keys and leaving. You needed to clear your head, you needed to have a better headspace. A healthier one. Your phone was constantly buzzing, Bucky’s name staring back at you. You did not need to hear his voice right now, all you needed was the cold breeze of the night and the swings of the park that was next to your building, the rest could wait.

[flatstarcarcosa]

house/home

Ship: wilson and wilson at large warnings: exploration of trauma and PTSD, references to abuse note: this ended up being similar to the last thing i did, what started out as a simple headcanon exploration turned into an emotionally charged, rambling piece that at one point, turns into a story. it has not been proof read yet. 

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

slade and i discover pretty quickly after the move to vermont that simply packing my shit and taking care of any lingering obligations in florida i was tied too is not, in fact, the entire solution to my problems. 

which of course ties into the larger theme of our whole relationship at this point in that we’re both just constantly attempting to run away from our problems, our pasts, our trauma all while scolding each other and saying it doesn’t work like that. 

he finds i don’t get settled right away. or even within a few weeks or months. the vermont house, for all purposes, for the longest of time, is not my house. it is not my home. i quickly default back into the same mindset i have had my entire life, drilled and beaten into me since i was a child that if someone else has paid for it, if someone else has bought it, if someone else has acquired it and is allowing me to use it, 

it is not mine. it is theirs.

which of course, that’s not the mindset that slade is coming from. he picked the vermont house because it made the most sense logistically. it was already there, sitting and waiting. filled with belongings he could never fit in elsewhere, filled with dust, filled with ghosts of memories past. 

it made sense to use it. 

so when we finally arrive, both regretting the initial idea of turning the move into a road trip, my things are waiting in storage containers. two large ones, sitting in the driveway and blocking access to the detached garage. 

the house smells of pine and wood and must, having been shuttered up for so long. he comments that he can’t exactly remember the last time he was here, and he opens windows and adjusts the thermostat as he moves through. 

everything is decorated in warm colors and wood, brown furniture and carpeting, and old linoleum in the kitchen that has seen better days. it’s distinctly him, and his presence coats everything i touch, as if his absence has meant nothing. 

which it probably hasn’t. after all, a house is four walls and a roof and completely unconcerned with the on-goings inside it.

my things get moved in at an easy pace, boxes stacked out of the way in the basement while we try to figure out placement. 

slade jokes we’re both going to have to pick and choose on the books; my amount added to his exceeding the capacity. he comments something about adding more bookcases in his study, and he trails off when he mentions something about adeline always wanting that done years ago. 

there’s pictures of her in his study. her, and grant, and joey. more pictures of the three of them alone or together than there are of slade with them all. one in particular, that i find by accident stuffed behind a novel about Achilles, specifically has slade’s face cut out of it. i don’t ask. i don’t have to. 

over the next few weeks my presence adds to his. 

we have a fake argument about the two batman statues i have, me putting them on shelves in the living room only to find them in absurd places the next day. he puts one in the freezer, another in a garbage can. 

my small collection of novelty mugs makes it’s way into the kitchen, along of course, with my shot glasses. we decide to donate my coffee maker, as slade’s is bigger and still functional. 

at first we come to what seems like the logical conclusion that my bedroom items will go in his room; in the master bedroom. we put my bedframe in the basement, wrap the mattress for now and leave it leaning next to it. my sheet sets go in the closet, i add my pillows to his bed. 

my shampoo and my facial cleansers sit next to his in the bathroom, our toothbrushes resting in the holder. my cologne next to his. my clippers in the box under the cabinet, next to a tiered container holding make up. my nail polish nestles next to his beard trimmer. 

as the weeks go by, little by little i try to claim the offered spaces as my own. 

i wake up one day to find he’s changed the living room furniture, i’m not sure why, and he seems oddly evasive about it. he jokes something about one of the kids throwing a party once, someone leaving nasty stains. he always meant to replace it. 

he always meant to do a lot of things, he says. 

i realize we’re both being crushed by our own innate guilt, whether rational or not, and that all we’ve done is try to run away from it again. 

and of course, it hasn’t worked. it doesn’t work, it will never work, because you cannot run from these things. they are a train, and you cannot outrun a train. 

i find myself wide awake one night, the sound of him breathing softly and measured next to me, and i’m staring up in the dark at a still unfamiliar ceiling and i realize that nothing is right,

none of this is right, none of this fits. 

i am not, yet, accustomed to this new space. im unused to the noises of the house settling, the noises inside and out of it, and i lay there in the blinding dark desperately searching for something familiar to latch onto before i sink to the bottom 

and i find nothing. 

even his warm, solid form right next to me isn’t enough to tether me to the present and once again i’m overcome with the unalienable need to run. 

he finds me on the back porch hours later, having apparently rolled over and noticed my absence, half a pack of cigarettes butted in the ash tray next to me, another one trailing smoke into the sky from my hand. i am still not calm enough to speak, and knowing that i will have to feels like a vice on my chest.  

my mind races to prepare answers, the raging urge of self-preservation steering towards the right answers, and the correct answers, and the answers the other party wants to hear, and it is a habit i never foresee myself breaking. 

the entire time i am screaming at myself to stop because it’s not necessary and it is not appropriate. and logically, i know this. my brain acknowledges the commands yet tells me so sorry there’s nothing we can do to stop this, it’s a train after all. 

he picks out a cigarette of his own, gently pulling the lighter from between the fingers on my other hand. he sits down on the edge of my seat, to my right of course, always to my right and the side he can see from. he exhales a lungful of smoke and for a few moments, the questions don’t come. 

my brain stops misfiring, the synapses all seeming to come to a stop as they compare now to then and finally decide, yes 

yes we can stop now. 

yes, you were right, now is not the same as then. 

a semblance of control returns to my body as he reaches behind me to lean on the back of the chair. 

“where’d you go?” he asks, casually, simply. as if that’s the most logical question to ask, as if that makes perfect sense, and i almost want to scream

because it absolutely is.  

and yet, even still, “what?” is all i can choke out, and i know my attempt to cover it with a cough from the cigarette is as see through as glass, but i do it anyway.

“you went somewhere,” he says, tapping ash. his fingers trail up my back, coming to rest at the nape of my neck, his thumb rubbing circles against my hairline. 

“i...i don’t know,” i say, and i want to cry all over again because of how far away and how small i sound. 

“hm,” is all he responds with. he nudges me with a knee, and i slide over and allow him to sit fully. i stub out my cigarette and immediately reach for another one, and he flicks the lighter and doesn’t comment on the chain smoking and for several minutes we say nothing. 

i know he’s waiting on me to invite him in. to give a cue, a sign that yes i’m fine now and yes i will be fine and yes i will give you a new list of all my problems and you can find out how to fix them, because that’s what you constantly try to do, because that’s all you know how to do, even to the point of creating problems just so you can solve them.  

and i cannot give him that because i know deep, deep within the most choked off parts of myself that there are just things that cannot, will not be fixed. 

and they cannot be run from, either. 

but they can accommodated. they can be unearthed and they can be tended to and they can be allowed to breathe and perhaps if i stop trying to strangle myself into the submission of others, i could get a foothold in my own mind. 

“could you maybe...move my bed and some of my stuff in the basement to one of your spare bedrooms?” i ask, and i hope that the fearfulness i’m feeling at daring to ask for something to be done for my comfort isn’t drowning my words. 

he lets out a smoky sigh, tilting his head back and looking up at the stars as he brushes his fingers against my steaming cheek. 

“i forgot how much you need a space of your own,” he says. my brain, still partially controlled by ghosts pulling on the strings of trauma, searches desperately for anything in his voice to justify the panic. for the annoyance, the exasperation, the condemnation, 

and yet there is nothing to find. 

“of course,” he says, “we can clear out one of the spare bedrooms and we can move as much of your stuff into it as you need.” 

he stresses all the right words in all the right ways so that it doesn’t come across as sarcastic or demeaning in response to my obvious needs and for a moment i could swear i black out as everything that i’ve fought for so long to snuff out explodes into sparks. 

i drop my cigarette at one point, completely unaware i’ve done it as i lean forward and press my head into his chest, fingers coiling into his shirt and he slips an arm around my waist and tugs me closer, leaning me against his hip in what feels like a practiced motion that he’s done hundreds of times.  

“i’m sorry,” i say, breathing the words into him. 

“that’s fine,” he says. “you’re fine.” 

“i know,” i say. 

we fall into silence for a while, interrupted only when i hear him sniffing, and for a moment i think is he crying too, now? did i start this?  then suddenly he’s swearing, jumping out of the chair and nearly knocking me to the porch, and i’m so startled all i can do is blink like a confused animal as i register the smell of smoldering wood.

“your cigarette is burning a hole in the porch,” he says, stepping away to turn the light on. 

and as i watch him go to reflexively grind the cigarette out with his foot, stopping when he realizes he’s not wearing shoes to turn and grab one of my boots from our shoe stand just outside the door, i can’t stop the laughter that bubbles up from my core. 

i hear a train whistle in the distance, and i can’t make out if it is a real whistle, or my auditory wiring misfiring, and i don’t care. i’ll ask him tomorrow, if there’s train tracks somewhere nearby, because it settles in the back of my mind that there will be a tomorrow, and a day after, and a day after that, and it wraps around me like a fuzzy jacket. 

he offers a hand and i take it, and it slips down to my waist as he leads me back inside. 

“you know, you don’t have to try to burn our house down to get my attention,” he says as the door slides shut behind us, and there’s the faintest hint of a smile on his lips as he speaks. i catch sight of the moonlight streaming in behind him, and it imposes on my eyes the sight from what feels like so long ago, 

the sun light beaming down on him in a florida parking lot as he looks down to grab for the dog’s leash, a stranger in my home saving my only friend from running head first into traffic while hunting a lone lizard

and i think what are the odds, 

that then is, in fact, so similar to now. 

[theashofwkm]

Recruitment in a Club

Summary: In which Dark... recruits William as his partner.

Prompt: Goretober, Demonic

Warnings: strangle mention, mass shooting, blood mention, dark having power to control fear, lack of sanity, manipulation, dark is referred to as a demon.

Note: Day two is a success! I actually really like this one, so I hope you guys do too!! (Also apologies again for the lack of read more)

———

Dark strides into the club, the bouncer coughing and clutching his reddened, bruising throat, eyes wide and white in terror, crotch dampened. The receiving end of his version of a ticket that allows him to step inside and skip the line. Very effective.

His aura had played a crucial role, sneaking in the man’s fears to play in his mind on a loop, startling him stiff. He’d recover from that before the night’s end. Probably.

Music throbs in the air, twisting around flailing bodies and thrumming in their chests besides their beating hearts. Unconsciously, they all veer away from Dark’s path, providing him a narrow pathway to the foot of the stage.

Dancers atop it pay him no heed, continuing to twist their bodies in time with the heavy beat. The central dancer, a brightly colored man with dyed hair, is by far the most enthusiastic of them. The others simply follow the tune of the music, mimicking the man while he dances with it, a partner to the song and a showman of its grace.

Dark clears his throat, the sound cutting through the music, disrupting the steady, flowing pace and the dancers trip, stumbling over themselves to stagger away from the creature who emits horror. Except one. The man continues, lithely avoiding the stumbling figures of the lost dancers. The man is blind to the intrusion, deaf to anything besides the music as he now commands it.

Three small steps lead up to the stage and Dark walks up them, aura wide and thrumming, dimming the lights, muting the music, sending a chill of warning throughout the club.

The man continues to dance.

“William,” the demon calls, voice low and rumbling yet somehow louder then the music still ringing in the air.

The man, the dancer, William, ignores the call. Dark steps closer, his arm brushing against a backup dancer who gasps and falls off the stage. No one notices, continuing to dance and enjoy the vibrant vibe, accounting the chill grasping their spine and whispering ‘danger’ as a side effect of the alcohol.

Taps of heel against wood echo. A slight sound that dwarfs the deafening music. Reaching out a gray, chilled hand, Dark grasps William’s shoulder.

Finally, he gains the man’s attention. His head still bobs and his hips sway, arms swinging around himself as he performs complicated footwork that keeps him in the same relative area, but he stays near Dark, eyes fixed on him. Practically giving him a lap dance, a private show. Grin still plastered to his face.

Dark sighs through his nose, closing his eyes for a brief moment in annoyance. “Colonel,” he says, his tone a strange mix of soft and commanding and regretful.

The man stops.

Confusion laces across his features, pinching his brows and weighing down the upward slope of his smile. “Colonel?” He repeats, mutters to himself because the word sounds... familiar. The meaning escapes him, but it rings in his head, a familiar sound.

“William.” Dark takes a half step forwards, grasping at the man’s wrist, pulling it between them to flip it palm up. His hand lays limp in his grasp, mind still whirring for the connection he can feel, the words clinging to his tongue, words burning in his throat, memories lurking in the shadows.

“Do you remember me?” His face is flat, expression artfully neutral even as the final word tremors.

William bounces his gaze over Dark’s face, over the hand holding his, between his eyes. His search stops there. Those eyes. Why do they look familiar?

“I think,” he clears his throat, eyes still pinned to the demon’s, “we’ve met before.”

Dark scoffs a laugh, expression lightening for a moment before he cools it again. “Yes,” he says, voice notably softer then it has been previously, “we have. A very long time ago.”

“Ah!” William pulls his hand free, snapping in Dark’s face. “Are you looking to work here?” He appraises Dark, scanning him with his gaze. “A singer? Musician?”

“No.” Dark scrubs a hand on his forehead wearily. “I’m not a musician or singer.” Not anymore. He could have been, once. He had the talent for it.

William blinks, tilts his head in confusion. “Then who are you?”

It hurts, that he’s asking. They used to be close, used to be brothers, used to be lovers.

No. Dark shakes his head, warding off the old forbidden memories. He wasn’t them anymore.

“I’d like to make you an offer.”

The dancer snorts, shaking his head. “Of what?” he asks. “I’m having all the fun I need right here.” He sweeps his arms out, gesturing to the mob of sweaty people still dancing to music that’s no longer playing on the stage. He frowns. “What happened to the music?”

The demon tilts his chin up, bristling. “The music does not matter.” It’s muffled, nearly gone in the bubble of Dark’s aura engulfing the stage. Irritation prickles across his skin. “I’d like to make a deal with you.”

“Not interested. Put the music back on.”

Anger flashes in his eyes. Leaning forward, he locks William in his gaze, in the dark pools of his eyes. It’s instinctive, to pull him in when he’s not cooperating.

He worms his way to the brain, where he dredges up the manor and tugs it to the forefront of his mind. Warped, aged memories filter back in flashes. Giant booms, fallen bodies, a fantastical prank.

He takes the bones of that night and fleshes it out with horror, with a mix of brutal reality and anxious fiction, showing William shooting Abe, shooting Mark, shooting Damien, shooting Celine, shooting Y/N. Showing William the fear he’s been denying and fleeing from.

Muzzle flashes spark across his eyes as Dark leans away, straightening his posture and smoothing out his suit.

William falls to the floor, shaking and terrified. “What was that?”

Dark crouches, seeking eye contact that William flinches away from. Dead friends hang in his eyes and they’re not dead, they can’t be. He would never kill them.

Sighing, he lowers his gaze to the floor. A reprieve that allows William to breathe. “I can make it stop,” Dark says, “the memories, the horror, the guilt.”

“I— I didn’t do that.” William scrambles away, shaking his head. “I didn’t shoot them.”

Dark lifts his head, finds his gaze. More shots, more bodies, more blood.

“No, stop.” William cries, terror locked around his heart.

Dark pulls the gun out of pocket, shining silver and far too heavy in his hand. He holds it out to the man. “Do you remember this?”

“That didn’t happen,” he whispers. “It’s not real.” Shakily, he grabs the gun, cold metal biting into his skin and aiding in the return of old feelings, aiding in the twist of Dark’s power in his mind. “Damien’s not dead.”

Something flinches in Dark, twisting his organs. He remembers a bright light, a soft chant gone too far. Snowy woods, cracking ice and a small cabin. Pain filters across his face. “No,” he finally says, “Damien is dead.”

Strangled laughter. “No. No, no, no, he’s not dead, he’s just playing a prank!” The old manic look, familiar and new all at once, lights his eyes. Decades of parties and dancing melt away to leave William’s core, barren and open to the outside world. Returning him to the man who killed and thought it to be a joke. Washing away the years he’s spent toeing the line of sanity and now forcing him to choose.

“Join me,” Dark says, reaching out a hand, promising something the other man doesn’t understand.

William eyes Dark’s hand, hesitant. He was enjoying all the clubs and the dancing. Twisting the gun his hands feels right. Natural.

Dark expands upon himself. “If you agree to become my partner, I’ll let you keep the gun. Deal?”

Their hands shake before William puts in any thought. It’s second nature, habit, what Dark is offering him. With the shake, the deal is sealed, unbreakable, irreversible, and easily struck to the man with a mind of putty.

William agrees out of a desperate need to keep the gun. It feels like an expansion of himself and he remembers now, all the fun he used to have with it. He’d like to have that fun again.

Dark tucks his hands back into his pockets, nodding at his new partner. Spinning on his heel, he retracts his aura, allowing the music to swell throughout the entirety of the room again.

“I’ll be in touch,” he states, as William hefts his new toy upwards and pulls the trigger, staining the floor red and painting the air with screams.

His grin is estastatic and his laughter follows the demon out the club.

———

Masterlist

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