#it sticks out a little and also glows which is why he wears a tank top and tshirt so it’s not glowing through his shirt

[drawdotstrings]

caelus doodles.. trying to figure out how i wanna draw him

[clairdelunelove]

winning game

itadori yuuji x f!reader

genre: fluff (gamer!yuuji drabble!)

warnings: suggestive, broad gamer lingo, 2k words

synopsis: yuuji's great at everything and, unsurprisingly, he's an amazing gamer. but what happens when he gets a little– say– distracted?

a.n. woAH who wrote this?! hehe but hear me out, I luv watching streams and I lowkey game on the side soo, this was expected. this was HEAVILY inspired by @r5x95r13ros's beautiful art. I apologize for the person I became while writing this. but oh my gosh, did it change me. (⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)

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gamer!yuuji who begs you to sit on his lap while he's gaming because he loves the way you feel on him

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gamer!yuuji who normally doesn’t mind any type of video game genre. it’s fun! just a little hobby that helps him destress after a long day. as long as he has friends that are willing to play, he’s satisfied. however, it’s rather interesting that he seems to do exceptionally well in fps games. it could be due to the fact that he has reflexes like no other. he can and will adapt to any situation, regardless of the fact that he might not have the most experience in the game or he’s still learning the basics. focuses on minor details; like an enemy’s character model glitching through the wall or hearing their footsteps on the floorboards. any hint that’ll pinpoint his enemies location. which is 100% why he’d have his volume turned up to the max. also, he’s a proficient learner. think of him as the type of person that’s automatically skilled at a game even if he’s never played it before. even in real combat, he just has a knack of strategizing ten steps ahead of the enemy team and wins rounds because of it. and he doesn’t possess a competitive drive like some of the ‘rage-quitters’ on his team but he locks in if he manages to make a mistake. he’ll express a sincere, “my bad!” and then douse the entire opposition the next round, making it to the top of the leaderboard. he has this adorable habit where if he unlocks an incredibly rare achievement and you compliment him on the feat, he’ll tilt his head in confusion. just doesn’t grasp how impressive he is. yet he feeds into your praise like if you had a carrot on a stick. beams at you and cheers, “did you see that? did you think it was cool? I can do it again, watch!” 

gamer!yuuji who tries his hardest to stay quiet while he’s on a voice call with friends but you know it won’t last long. you’re relaxing on his small dorm bed, stretched out while scrolling through your phone, and he’s situated at his desk. there’s a controller cradled in his slender fingers. it’s his preferred way of playing fps games and it’s definitely not the easiest (or most frequently used method) but he’s told you that he enjoys the challenge. doesn’t mind not having hotkeys or easy movement to aid him throughout gameplay. hence, causing his skill to be that much more impressive. the neon colors of his pc illuminate the darkened room, creating a glow around his sharp features and his concentration on the screen in front of him gives you the (very) necessary time to appreciatively stare. he’s clad in the dark, hooded zip up jacket that you gifted him for his birthday. you don’t question the logic of how he can hear when his headphones are over the hoodie that’s haphazardly draped over his pink hair. gaze flitting downward, you’re gnawing on your lower lip when the black tank top yuuji’s wearing does little to conceal his collarbones and the prominent dip of his chest. and the attractive sight is almost enough for you to excuse the raucous callouts that leave his lips. “flanking in,” he announces as he subconsciously leans closer to his screen to get a better view, “crap! they’re baiting! to your right!” and he tries to lessen the intensity of his voice– he really does– but he’s caught in the thrill of being the last person alive on his team. 

gamer!yuuji who’s justification for loading into another match is, “it’ll be quick, promise!” he always keeps his promises to you and this is no exception. though, through his headphones, his friends are loudly pleading for him to play another round. and you just don’t have the heart to tell yuuji to turn their request down. “you can play another, yuu. I can wait,” you suggest with a knowing smile. he moves to pull the headset’s mic away and his lips are pulled into a small frown. his words are soft as he asks, “you sure? I can always tell them I gotta spend time with my girl, ya know. they’ll understand.” and there’s a heat that engulfs you at his casual endearment for you that he uses with his friends. you hum, aware that yuuji deserves to relish in some alone time, “yup! don’t worry, I’ll still be here when you’re done.” after your answer, he seems to contemplate your decision because his brows are furrowed. there’s a sharp glint in his eyes that you recognize and know that he’s come up with a consensus. finally, he leans in his seat to press a delicate kiss on your cheek and murmurs a proposal that benefits the both of you, “sit on my lap for this round, will you? jus’ wanna hold you while I’m playing.” and to prove his point, he swivels his chair in your direction. it's a dangerous game he's playing but he hasn't caught on yet. instead, he moves to spread his legs to make enough room for you, his sweatpants causing the motion to be effortless, and ushers you to him with a pat to his thigh. 

gamer!yuuji who doesn’t feel the slightest bit of embarrassment or shame when his friends clown him over voice chat for whispering sweet nothings into your ear. he’s enamored by you! thinks that he received a literal blessing when the two of you started dating because, like, you’re perfect! and if you don’t share his sentiment then he’ll continually show you that you’re the only one for him. thus, he feels obligated to remind you every single chance he has. “you’re so pretty,” he coos when you’re seated on his lap. his chest is pressed against your back and quite frankly, it’s almost too surreal for him. this angle is, also, absolutely ideal for him to shower you with the praise and attention that you deserve. and goodness, yuuji makes certain of it. he implores you by lifting your chin with his index finger, his touch is gentle. however, the gaze that he settles upon you is heavy. “the prettiest,” he slurs, “all f’me, right?” and this man has his mic unmuted the entire time. of course his friends are quick to tease him, tossing in their own complaints of, “c’mon man!” or “get a room, lovebirds!” but yuuji’s on cloud nine when you’re in his lap like this. you, on the other hand, are the epitome of flustered. you’re reminded of the breadth of his physique because while he’s not necessarily the biggest male in the world, he’s still brawny. with his sleeves pushed up to his forearms, he reaches around you to grab his controller again and utters a teasing, “aw, you guys are haters,” to his friends. unperturbed by their protests, he leans closer, lulled by your saccharine perfume, and rests his head on your shoulder. just a moment of peace shared between the both of you. his arms come around to encase you in a warm embrace, sweetly asking if you’re comfortable, and before long he’s loading up into another game. 

gamer!yuuji who, while waiting for his teammates to rez him, rests his large hands on your thighs. it’s almost alarming how natural the action is. the scenario that usually happens is that he ends up swearing when his character dies, places his controller down, and dives right back into latching onto your thighs. finds pleasure in how soft you are between his strong fingers. “you need anything? water? snacks?” he asks, ready to do anything for your comfort. his fingertips lovingly trace circles on the curve of your upper thighs as he waits for your answer. a mischievous grin dances on his face when he quickly adds, “more kisses?” and his eagerness causes you to giggle as you teasingly push him away when he drifts toward you. “if you win the game I’ll give you a kiss,” you offer and his eyes light up at your words. but then he’s pouting, “but I haven’t kissed you all day!” and you would’ve felt guilty, given his wide eyes and somber dip of his pretty lips, if it wasn’t for the fact that he already has. “you just gave me a kiss, yuu,” you remind him while you’re still comfortably tucked into his chest. “that was just a kiss on the cheek,” he clarifies and huffs like it was obvious, “let me make it up to you now.” but he’s interrupted by one of his friends hollering for him to focus and you’re a fit of giggles when he outwardly sulks. “they need their star player,” you croon. 

gamer!yuuji who’s reduced to sloppy aim/bad callouts because you’re whispering praises and pressing hot kisses on his neck. you didn’t think it’d end up like this but you can’t help but purr, “did so good, yuu. I’m so proud of you,” when he manages to wipe the opposing squad. and at the recognition, he readjusts himself in his seat and nods to himself. like he’s not expecting the low drawl in your tone. or how warm you are in his lap. there’s a foggy daze in his eyes when you angle yourself closer to him so it’d be easier to cheer him on. “hah, you’re proud of me?” he repeats, eyes glued to the screen in hopes of hearing your pretty voice again. you hum, drawing yourself into the junction of his neck and pressing a sticky kiss at the sensitive spot, “mhm, so proud.” he almost drops his controller, scrambling to regain hold on it, and clears his throat at his mishap when his friends comment on it. his ears are tinged red and he weakly breathes out your name. a warning? a plea for more? you’re not sure but it’s hypnotic the way his eyes droop until they’re half-lidded. it’s when you nip at his neck that he smacks a hand over his mouth to muffle the groan that threatens to leave his lips. “not fair,” he rasps as he misses his shots due to your teasing. his team is losing and their star player is slowly losing his concentration the more the match goes on. you trail kisses along the expanse of his neck, reveling in how he squirms from underneath you. he’s melting. fully dizzy when you press another open-mouthed kiss below his jaw. the game ends with yuuji winning but that’s not his biggest victory at the moment. scrambling to mute himself on his mic, he pivots his attention to you, big brown eyes captivated in yours, and pleads, “please kiss me, baby.” his voice is syrupy and thick, like it’s cemented in his throat. the headphones that he wears are immediately discarded. his hands automatically trail down to hold onto your waist, coercing you even closer in his tight hold. he hovers above your glossy lips, fully mesmerized, and he sweetly begs some more, “please.” 

gamer!yuuji who decides it’s his turn to punish you with his own teasing since he won the game. his hands are all over you, smearing along your body in an attempt to memorize the shape. then, he lifts you up, manhandling you so that your legs are on either side of him. now, you’re finally facing him. he does it with ease. a swoop of his strong arms and you're exactly where he wants you. “this’ll be better,” he voices, mostly to himself. likes the weight of you on him. keeps him grounded. yet you can’t help but notice that even his voice is intoxicating. desperate. it almost borders a groan. he gently presses down on your thighs, efficiently laying you over his lap so you’re flush against him. a slow exhale passes his lips at the contact and you’re hyper-sensitive to how rough the fabric of his sweatpants are. hot, heavy– him. he huffs, amused yet greedy, when you weakly whine. and he considers that his earlier speculation was correct. you’re the prettiest like this; cheeks flared with desire and fingers needily tugging at him. he’s not any better. blushy hair a tousled mess and a tinge of red dusting across his face. there are hearts in his eyes. the air between the two of you is suffocating. but he breathes you in like he’s deprived and he’s finally getting his fill now. “gonna let me play with you now, pretty girl?” his breathing is raspy, rising at the ends of it like you have a grip on him that you’re unaware of. he brings a calloused hand up and drapes it along your neck. it's so large in comparison that his thumb brushes along your nape. feels you gulp beneath the press of his fingertips and you're going cross-eyed from mapping out the veins on his hands. and he might ask you about it after. or he might use it as leverage later on. a fact is known though. unknowingly, you flipped a switch within him and this time he won’t lose.

[writing-for-me-at-this-point]

Pact Marks | All Brothers

Request: pact mark hc with the brothers?

Word Count: 1971 words

Page Count: 5.5 pages

A.N.: hope you guys enjoy this!

Tags: none :)

[ U N D A T E A B L E S ]

Lucifer

Lucifer would place his pact mark on the space where your neck meets your ear, somewhere modest and easy to hide, something you could show and hide as you pleased. Though you could hide it, it was in an obvious spot, fitting for the Avatar of Pride. When you summon him or speak with him through it the pact mark glows a deep blue.

If you wear your hair down, he will play with your hair before rubbing the mark gently, and if he is in an extra soft mood he'll give it a quick kiss before moving on. If you wear your hair up he feels prideful, more so than usual, and it intensifies even more if it is a formal gathering where any and all can see it. He'll be glued to that one side where the mark is, and he'll lean in to whisper to you whenever he wants to speak with you, giving a quick kiss to it or just touching it before standing up again.

His pact mark with you on the palm of his hand, and he finds himself thumbing it mindlessly to comfort himself, he starts to understand why Beel does it when he's nervous. Lucifer isn't nervous though, he just likes to remind himself of you, he likes to touch the mark that proves you're both bound together in such a way. When he speaks to you through the mark or tries to look through your eyes, activating the mark, it glows a bright white and reminds him of a blessing mark that angels give.

Having a pact with Lucifer makes him feel light, in a literal and metaphorical sense, every time he even thinks of it.

You bring him light that he thought he had lost long ago.

Mammon

Mammon would keep your pact mark on your collar bone, in the center, right where your throat dips into your chest. He knew you were caring, and being around you had him feeling different, and he wanted to be greedy. Since he is more emotionally inclined, I like to think that he can connect with souls and auras better, so when he felt your soul and looked at it a bit closer he felt so connected to it he knew he wanted to get close with you. It glows a bright gold when it activates, and he loves it, so sometimes when you're sleeping he'll call to the mark and kinda just look in amazement. 

Since he is very touchy, he loves to lay his head down on it, and listens to your heart and the soft buzz of his magic in your skin. He falls asleep fastest on those nights.

His mark with you is in the same place, and like his older brother when you use it it glows a soft white, something he loves since it matches well with his demon markings. Run your nails over it and the boy m e l t s. Since he had his collar opened all the time he loves when people see it, he makes pacts with witches all the time but this is the first time he's allowed a mark on him, and this honestly has everyone just lowkey s h o o k. Like Mammon? The pact whore for grimm? Allowed a mark? on H I M ?

Having a pact with Mammon makes him feel pride, ironically, but also loved and wanted.

He actually feels like an equal, when all else isn't, this is the one time where it's you AND him.

Leviathan

His pact mark on you is on your foot and wraps around your ankle, it seems easy to hide, but you can never really hide it. Unless you're wearing shoes that cover your ankle often or pants that don't ride up your ankle, it's always showing somewhere. He is a strong swimmer and loves to see you swim too, so he knows legs are important for the task, and that's where the idea of placing his mark on your ankle came from. Sometimes, he'll jump in the tank with you, and since he can breathe underwater with his gills (broski I like the idea of him having gills P L E A S E), he'll sit back and chill with Henry swimming around his head, seeing your mark move with the rest of your leg.

When you use the mark, it becomes a soft orange, the same shade that hides behind his eyes when they become more snake-like. Lay your legs over him when he's playing games and he'll settle the controller on your other ankles, letting his fingers brush against the mark on the other. Little shit will even let his claws some out just to scratch them lightly and tickle you like a motherfucker.

His mark is on the ankle opposite of yours, so when you're both cuddling he'll link your ankle around his, the feeling of you WITH him blows his mind sometimes. Same case when he uses it, glows white, due to you being a human and having such a bright soul. 

Having a pact with Leviathan makes him feel like he's worth something.

You helped him gain confidence and become a demon that deserves the title of Avatar of Envy.

Satan

His pact mark runs from the top of your calf to about mid-thigh, right on the back of your leg, it's large, slender, and delicate. It glows neon green when activated, something that he honestly finds cool as hell, because:

1. It's something that means you have a piece of him with you.

2. You make it look awesome.

3. It's honestly so fucking cool.

Like Levi, when you're both relaxing, him reading and you doing work/listening to music, and your legs are on his, he'll touch the mark mindlessly and feel so at peace. But, if you're ticklish, guess who also is a little shit. If you're in bed, and laying on your stomach, he'll lay his head on your thigh and just trace his with a look on his face that says 'wow' and if you think of that meme, yes, that's valid.

His mark is on the top of his hand, he always gets to see it, looking at it shows him the progress he's made. He knows how to manage his anger and actively tries to have it processed through a better outlet. You helping him along the way makes him have hope, an emotion that could seem a bit foreign at times, but he likes it. He feels light.

Making a pact with Satan has him feeling like he can be anything he wants.

He can be himself, not an extension of someone else.

Asmodeus

Asmodeus has no shame, but, when he cares- when he really does, he wants to make it meaningful. He would place it on your hip and have it there and only there, it won't wrap around to your ass or to your front, just your hip. He loves to watch it glow a radiant pink, so he'll section off time to just lay his head on your lap and ask you to call him, the tug of magic and the light emanating from your skin does something to him. Sure, it could be lust, or maybe something more, you may be able to figure it out if he told you.

He didn't want to though. He'd just enjoy the feeling without having to figure it out, because figuring it out meant facing himself, and we can't have that just yet. His pact mark is right over his heart, though Mammon's mark is in the same area, it isn't right over his heart. It is settled right between his pectorals, a slight bit to the left, always hovering around the muscle that proves he's alive and able to love in some capacity.

He often would come up to you and just place his hand on it, palm flat against your hip while his mark would flare up in an ivory light, he swears he can feel your pulse through it and wonders if you can feel his.

Having a pact with Asmodeus makes him feel as if he can be seen past his title- which ever one, and just be himself.

He can devout himself to something that means more than him.

Beelzebub

Beelzebub's pact mark is not on your abdomen actually! He wanted to place it on his favorite spot, on the back of your shoulder, away from the place where his sin seems to ravage him. It of course, glows a deep crimson, but be prefers it when it isn't activated- because it means you're safe and you don't need to call on him to help. He loves when you sit on his lap, because of a few reasons.

1. You're with him :)

2. You're happy :)

3. He can look at your mark as much as he likes, especially if it's exposed, he'll "somehow" leave small kisses all over it. They're so soft, you can't help but laugh, it's ticklish at times. It becomes even more ticklish when he presses his face against it, and if you laugh, he laughs, his laughs against your skin either make you soft or cackle in delight.

4. Your pact mark is right against his!

Beel would have his pact mark right on his chest, matching it to the side you choose to have your pact mark on. This makes the big boi real emotional, and he'll sometimes let some magic through and it glows, and you're kinda like:

"I hope that's a glow stick and not you again Beel."

"Let's just say it's a glow stick for now."

Having a pact with Beelzebub means you're a part of his family, happy, and healthy.

It really just makes him emotional.

Belphegor

When you make a pact with Belphegor, this lil' shit is honestly so surprised you said yes, but considering it was a gift you probably said yes to be respectful. But... you didn't. 

Your pact mark with him is on the back of your neck, where the cervical vertebrae are, moving a bit lower to the thoracic spine. When you suggested it go there, he had to ask why, and boy did he tear up once you explained it to him later that night. You wanted to trust him again and put the past behind you, so what better place to mend a wound than the place that finally put your lights out?

Please don't say it like this to him though, if you do he would think you're joking.

But if that's how it comes out, he'll think you're joking, until he remembers you're you and... he gets it.

It glows purple when activated or when you're sleepy/ in some type of stress, he wants to read your emotions so he can help you as much as he can, make up for what was done. He would never admit it though, and you can tell he's trying his best. His mark would be in the same exact place, not only to remind him of what he did, but that he can do better to make amends. He punishes himself for your death and you try to ease him out of it- and though it takes time, you'll find your way to it. 

He finds himself doing what Beel does, and will bury his face into your mark when he cuddles into you, and places small kisses on it. If he is laying on you, please touch the mark, it manages to calm him into a good sleep. 

Making a pact with Belphegor means you're ready to grow and build something better with him.

You help him find a better path that he needs to walk down on his own.

[thebonerpit]

cheerleader [FIC]

cheerleader

Rom Howney, 3896 words, [E], read on Ao3 here

A very seasonally appropriate fic in which Robert throws a Halloween party. Tom hates Halloween but decides to wear a costume he's wanted to try for years.

“I just don’t understand it.”

Tom frowns as he stares at the racks upon racks of zombies, clowns, vampires, and sexy nurses in front of him.

“I mean, to be fair, you don’t understand much of anything, do you mate?”

“Fuck off,” Tom says, whacking Harrison on the arm. “But seriously! Why do Americans go so absolutely mental for this stupid holiday?”

“Again, having trouble with the fact that you, an actor, who plays dress-up FOR A LIVING, doesn’t understand this. It’s not like this is any weirder than a fancy dress party. Plus, you get candy!”

Ok, he does have a point there.

Tom lets out a deep sigh. He wouldn’t even be bothering with all this if it weren’t for Robert. An invitation appeared in his inbox last week for a Halloween party, and when you’re invited to a Halloween party at Robert Downey Jr.’s house, you don’t turn it down. Even if Halloween is incredibly stupid. He shuffles along through the rows of costumes, rolling his eyes at werewolf masks and inflatable dinosaurs.

“This is ridiculous,” he mutters. Harrison groans, his hands already full of the various parts of a Mad Hatter costume.

“Just pick something, who cares?!”

“There’s too many options!”

“Ok, look. Halloween is the chance to dress any way you want to and have no one judge you for it. Just think about that. What have you always wanted to be?”

Tom immediately knows what the answer is, but instead of replying he just huffs and turns down another aisle that’s covered in fairy wings and glitter. He can’t possibly do it. Especially not for this party. For Robert’s party. It would be… inappropriate. He rounds the corner again and is faced with a shockingly huge assortment of superhero costumes. A foam version of Thor’s hammer sits on the shelf to his right, and he smirks as he picks it up and gives it a good twirl.

“In your face, Hemsworth,” he mutters quietly.

There’s a whole row of different Spider-Man costumes which makes him smile, especially when he sees a flimsy synthetic fabric version of the Iron Spider suit. And right next to that – a placement that thrills him even more than the suit alone - are the Iron Man costumes. Plastic faceplates, arc reactor gloves with LED lights, fabric onesies with fake, puffy muscles sewn in… it’s all there. Tom runs a finger along the edge of the faceplate before snatching his hand away like he’s been burned.

It’s all he can think about, even as they leave the store after Harrison buys his costume and Tom walks out empty-handed. He thinks about it on the ride home and through dinner until he finally makes excuses and runs off to hide in his room, laptop in hand, and puts on Iron Man 2. It doesn’t take long to get to the scene he wants. Tony Stark, diving through fireworks, landing on a flashy stage, surrounded by his Ironettes. Tom bites his lip as he stares intently at the bright red booty shorts, the long gloves, the crop tops… maybe, if he altered it just a bit, if he wore the mask… He can already feel his face heating up at the prospect of walking into Robert’s house dressed like that. Would he laugh? Would he be weirded out? Or… would he like it? Tom pushes the laptop off to the side and lets the movie play as he touches himself, coming to the sound of Robert’s voice in his headphones.

* * * * *

Tom is going to throw up. It’s inevitable, at this point. He’s in the back of a car squished between Harry and Harrison and he’s going to throw up. His stomach is in knots and he can’t remember ever being this nervous in his life. He’s used to the fluttering before a big stage performance or audition, but those nerves are more like excitement. This is sheer terror and he is going to THROW UP.

“Can you calm down? Jesus, you’re going to ruin my costume if you don’t stop squirming!” Harrison jabs a sharp elbow into his side and Tom jerks away into Harry who pushes him back.

“I just… I need some air.”

“The windows are all open! Take the mask off!”

That is the absolute last thing he wants to do. He was only able to leave the house in this costume with the mask securely over his face and he doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to take it off. He must be red as a tomato.

“Look, we’re here!” Harry crows. The car finally comes to a stop and they all pile out. Tom wants to collapse on the soft grass but he’s pulled along by four strong hands.

“Maybe I should… Look, I’ll just wait out here for a bit, ok? I just need—”

“Nope, absolutely not. Look mate, we already told you, he’s going to love it. Maybe not in the way you want him to-“ Tom punches Harry in the arm for that “-BUT, regardless, he’ll love it. You look great. And this is coming from someone who never turns down an opportunity to tell you you’re an ugly twat.”

“That was… almost sweet,” Tom says, and then yelps as they both drag him inside.

The party is in full swing and is absolutely packed with people. Small groups are standing around chatting, all in costume, and a live band is playing in the huge backyard to a crowded dancefloor. Tom recognizes only a few people – it’s hard to miss Scarlett even when she’s dressed like Morticia Addams – but that doesn’t bother him. Normally he loves mingling and meeting new people, and even dressed as he is it’s still exciting. It’s even easier after he quickly downs a few strong drinks, careful to only pull up the mask as far as it needs to go. The urge to vomit has pretty much dissipated and he’s actually beginning to enjoy himself, twirling around the dancefloor like a maniac until he’s slightly sweaty and out of breath.

“Water break!” he yells to Harry and squeezes through the crowd of people to get some air and hydrate. He finds a relatively quiet corner where he can chug half a water bottle in peace and is enjoying the cool air on his skin when someone taps him on the shoulder. He startles and nearly drops the bottle but manages to save it before turning around.

“Nice catch.”

Oh fuck. It’s him. It’s Robert. He hasn’t seen him the whole evening and assumed he was off being a good host so the whole thing almost slipped his mind, but now it’s all rushing back and he has to grip on to the fence post beside him to steady himself.

“Love the costume. Not exactly how I remember the Ironettes looking but I gotta say, this might be an improvement.”

Tom nearly chokes. He decided he couldn’t pull off the real Ironette costume as the distinct lack of breasts made it look a little awkward. So, he improvised. The shiny red and gold booty shorts stayed, of course. They made his ass look incredible. He bought the long red and gold arc reactor gloves and the plastic faceplate from the Halloween store, and instead of heeled boots he found a pair of gold high-tops and knee-high red socks. The shirt was the most difficult part, though. He went through a few variations before settling on something cute and comfortable: a red, cropped tank top. It was a bit loose and thin, so it flowed around his chest nicely and was short enough to show off his abs and his tiny waist. He also managed to find an LED necklace to serve as his arc reactor. It glowed a soft blue through the thin fabric of the shirt. Overall, he’s incredibly proud of what he came up with. Especially for someone who hates Halloween.

And now, with the way Robert is staring at him, he’s VERY happy he was brave enough to wear it.

“Is there someone under that gorgeous mask? Or are you too shy to say hello?”

Tom steels himself, takes a deep breath, and pulls the mask off.

Robert’s face goes through a myriad of emotions almost all at once. Shock, delight, amusement, and what is unmistakably arousal.

“Well. Tom Holland. As I live and breathe.” His voice is lower than before, more intimate, and when he takes a step forward Tom swears he feels the temperature go up by at least two degrees. He also notices that Robert is wearing eyeliner. The black kohl makes his eyes look even more gorgeous, and then there’s the red glitter dusted across his cheeks and around his hairline that is giving him an almost eerie glow.

“What are you supposed to be, then?” Tom asks. Robert smirks and points to the two small horns sticking out from his hair.

“The Devil, of course.”

“Of course,” Tom repeats weakly. It was barely a costume, the deep maroon suit looking more like red carpet attire than anything else, but fuck it looked incredible on him.

“I am the purveyor of sin on this fine evening,” he says, gesturing to the party, “so I thought I’d play the part. But you… you look far more sinful than me.”

Tom squeaks as Robert steps even closer and taps at the arc reactor on his chest.

“Cute,” he murmurs.

“Just… just wanted to show you how much of a fan I am… Mr. Stark.”

Robert’s eyes snap up to Tom’s and he doesn’t think he’s ever been looked at so intensely in his entire life.

“Is that so… Mr. Parker?”

Tom whines, loud enough for Robert to hear it. His hand travels down Tom’s body to squeeze at the bare skin of his waist.

“I think—”

“Robert!!”

They both jerk back as if they’re waking up from a trance. Someone is yelling for Robert and waving him inside, and he acknowledges them with a quick gesture. Turning back to Tom, he licks his lips and leans in to whisper in his ear.

“I think we’ll have to continue this later. Don’t leave without saying goodnight. Alright?”

“Yeah. Yes. O-ok. See you later,” Tom stutters, and when Robert disappears inside he chugs the rest of the water bottle and collapses back against the fence to catch his breath.

* * * * *

All the telltale signs of a party winding down are there. Most people have left, the band has stopped playing leaving only some low background music emanating from the speakers around the house, and the guests that remain are splayed out on various couches and chairs, half their costumes missing and happily drunk. The kitchen is a disaster and Tom feels bad adding more bottles to the mess, but he’s on a mission and can’t stop to tidy. After his run-in with Robert he only saw him briefly a few more times, mostly through a massive crowd, but he didn’t forget his words from earlier.

Don’t leave without saying goodnight.

Harrison and Harry have already gone home. They tried to get him to come with but Tom pretended to be enthralled in a conversation and told them he’d catch up in a bit. Now he’s wandering the massive house, peeking into various rooms as he looks for Robert. He gave up on wearing the mask after they met in the yard so it’s pushed up on his head like some sort of strange visor, his curls a sweaty mess beneath it. The second floor is quiet and empty; no one really came up here during the party anyway so it’s also much cleaner. A set of closed double doors is in front of him, and it’s the only place he hasn’t looked, so…

Tom slowly opens one door and pokes his head inside. Robert is lounging on a massive bed, scrolling on an iPad, glasses perched on his nose. He’s still got the horns on his head, and when he glances up over the rim of his glasses to smirk at Tom, he really does look positively devilish.

“Found you,” Tom says, trying to appear completely casual when his heart feels like it’s about to explode from under his ribcage.

“So you did. Come in. Close the door.”

Robert makes no effort to move so Tom slowly walks over to the bed, suddenly very conscious of how tight his shorts are as Robert unabashedly roams over his body with hungry eyes. He stops at the edge and toes at the plush carpet with one foot.

“Have you been drinking?”

Tom nods.

“How much?”

“Not that much,” Tom replies, understanding what Robert is trying to ask. “But maybe just enough to give me some liquid courage.”

Robert raises an eyebrow but waits patiently for Tom to make the first move, only shifting slightly to drop the iPad and his glasses on the nightstand. Guess it’s now or never.

He kneels on the edge of the bed with one leg first, testing the waters. Robert stays perfectly still. A deep inhale to steady himself and then Tom goes for it, pushing up on the bed and straddling Robert’s lap. He hesitates for only a moment before settling right on the seam of those expensive maroon trousers.

A pleased hum rumbles out of Robert’s chest as he runs two smooth, warm hands up Tom’s spread thighs to his waist.

“My own personal cheerleader, hm? I always knew you looked up to me but I never expected this… Pete.”

He catches Tom’s eye and gives him a brief wink. Tom’s heart speeds up even more as excitement bubbles in his stomach. Playing. Robert is playing with him. He was desperately hoping he wouldn’t drop this, leave it as the brief tease it was back in the yard. Acting with Robert is one of his favourite things in the entire world, and being able to do it like this? God, for the first time he’s actually happy that Tony Stark is dead because he’s never going to be able to act across from him again without thinking of this moment.

Robert nuzzles into his neck and starts leaving wet, sucking kisses all along the line of his throat. Tom shivers at the sensation and then starts to giggle when the tickle of Robert’s beard is too much against his sensitive skin. Robert laughs into his neck and nips playfully.

“You’re so darn cute,” he whispers. Robert has always been free with his compliments, telling Tom he’s handsome or pretty or talented, but somehow it just hits different when his hands are also squeezing Tom’s ass.

“Want to touch you, Mr. Stark,” Tom murmurs into his ear, easily switching his accent to sound even more like Peter. He feels Robert shudder underneath him and can’t help the pleased smirk that crosses his face.

“Yeah?” Robert says, grasping his chin gently so he can look into his eyes. “Do you even know what you’re doing, sweetheart?”

Tom absolutely knows what he’s doing, but Peter…

“I… uh… I was hoping you could teach me. I’m a really quick learner, sir,” he says softly.

“Jesus fucking christ,” Robert mutters, breaking character for a moment. He collects himself quickly though, shifting Tom in his lap just enough so he can undo his trousers and pull himself out. Tom’s mouth literally waters at the sight of Robert’s dick and he uses every ounce of willpower not to just pounce on him immediately.

“Want to feel your mouth, Pete,” Robert says, rubbing a thumb along Tom’s lower lip. “You can go slow. Use your tongue.”

“Yes, Mr. Stark,” Tom replies, trying not to sound too eager. He shuffles down a little and purposely sticks his ass up in the air. The red and gold shimmer on the shorts catches the dim light and he gives his hips a quick wiggle when he sees Robert staring.

“Maybe I should’ve reworked the design on your suit, hm? You like wearing little shorts like this?”

Tom nods and presses his face into the curls at the base of Robert’s dick, inhaling the scent of him. He feels the thick cock jerk against his cheek and angles his head to lick up the whole length of it, swirling his tongue at the tip. The bitter taste of precome blooms in his mouth and he moans, forgetting himself for a moment as he starts to give a much more experienced blowjob than what Peter would be capable of. Robert knocks the mask off Tom’s head so he can tighten his hand in his messy curls.

“Jesus,” Robert groans, “you’re good at this, kid.”

“Mmm, just want to make you feel good, sir,” Tom hums. He manages to remove one of the arc reactor gloves so he can grip Robert’s cock while he uses his mouth everywhere he can reach.

“Well, you’re doing a—fuck, god—a damn fine job.”

Tom thinks he could stay here forever, on his knees, mouth stretched almost painfully around Robert’s cock. He explores up his chest with his other hand, rubbing at one nipple with his thumb which makes Robert jerk underneath him.

“Keep doing that,” Robert spits out as he pushes Tom’s head down even further. He gags a bit but the incredible sensation of being stuffed and used overrides everything else and he takes every inch Robert gives him while tugging and pinching at his apparently very sensitive nipples. He drifts for a bit, so content and fuzzy, and only comes back when Robert pulls him off and throws him down on the bed.

“Pull up that shirt for me, sweetheart. Gonna paint your pretty chest with my come.”

“Oh my god, fuck, yes, please, please, want it,” Tom moans, shoving the fabric out of the way as Robert jerks himself off quickly above him. He can’t decide whether to watch his dick or his face when he finally comes, thick and white all over his chest and the arc reactor necklace. Robert’s slightly red in the face and gasping for breath as he steadies himself with a hand beside Tom’s head. Tom leans to the side to kiss at his knuckles and then dares to run his fingers through the come on the necklace and bring it to his mouth to taste.

“You’re going to give an old man a heart attack,” Robert says. His pupils are all blown out as he watches Tom hollow his cheeks as he sucks. Tom understands the feeling. He’s so hard in his shorts that it’s painful.

“Please,” he whispers, biting his lip, “will you touch me, Mr. Stark?”

“It would be a pleasure, Mr. Parker,” he replies. He palms him over the shorts which makes Tom buck into his hand. “As much as I love these… they have to go.”

The shorts are so tight that they both struggle to pull them down but finally they’re tossed off to a distant corner of the bedroom and Tom hisses as Robert immediately get his mouth on his cock. It feels absolutely heavenly, especially after being trapped in the confines of that uncomfortable fabric for so long. Robert takes his time, licks and sucks everywhere he can, all the way down to that sensitive spot right behind his balls. Tom whimpers as his tongue gets so fucking close to his hole but then pulls away.

“Want to use my fingers… s’that ok?”

“Y-yeah, please, yes!”

Robert grabs some lube from the nightstand and even warms it first before sliding one thick finger over Tom’s hole, pressing just the tip inside. Aside from the thrill of having Robert’s finger inside of him, the most incredible part is that he doesn’t stop sucking him off. The level of coordination is astounding and Tom would have complimented him on it if he was able to speak beyond moans and pleas for more. A second finger quickly joins the first and Tom’s body accepts it without hesitation.

“Good boy,” Robert murmurs in between gentle licks, “look at you, hm? So pretty and pink.”

Robert shifts him down a bit more which makes his legs fall open even wider. He feels so exposed and whines a little, trying to draw his knees close without squeezing Robert too much.

“Aw, don’t be shy sweetheart, you’re gorgeous,” Robert says. “You can put your legs up on me if that helps, ok?”

He hears the rubber of his high-tops squeak against Robert’s skin and somehow the sound is more obscene than anything else. He tries not to thump his heels too hard but fuck, Robert is doing something with his tongue that should be illegal and Tom can’t stop squirming. A low chuckle reverberates against his stomach as Robert pulls off briefly, his fingers still working in slow, gentle pushes.

“Aren’t you sensitive, hm?”

“P-please, Ro—Mr. Stark, please, need to come,” Tom begs, accent slipping slightly as he tries to shove himself down even deeper on Robert’s thick fingers. He’s held in place by the firm grip of Robert’s other hand on his waist and he whines petulantly.

“Anything for my favourite little spider,” Robert coos. He crooks his fingers and Tom arches up off the bed like he’s been shocked. He feels like he’s been on the edge since they first met in the yard and now Robert’s fingers are pressing right on his prostate and his hot mouth is back on his dick and he doesn’t think he could possibly hold off any longer if he tried.

“Gonna… gonna…” Tom’s whole body is taut, like a wire ready to snap, and when Robert takes him all the way down his throat he comes with a ragged gasp. Distantly he thinks he should be considerate and pull out but it’s like his body isn’t under his control anymore, and even though he hears wet choking noises it seems like Robert is just fine with him coming in his mouth. His fingers have stopped moving and he lets Tom clench around them for a few moments before gently sliding them out. Tom whines at the loss even though he’s so oversensitive right now he couldn’t possibly take anymore.

After taking a minute to catch his breath and regain any semblance of normal brain function, he finally looks down. Robert’s eyeliner is smudged and Tom feels a bizarre sense of pride about it. He can’t stop running his fingers through his salt and pepper hair which is also a complete mess.

“Just FYI,” Robert finally says, his voice a little raspy, “you’re going to be finding red glitter in every nook and cranny for about three years after this.” He punctuates that sentence by rubbing his cheek against Tom’s thigh, grinning as he does it.

“You’re a dick,” Tom says fondly, giggling even more as Robert continues to just rub his face all over his body. “But can’t say I’m gonna care that much if I’m being reminded about this.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Well,” Robert says, that absolutely devilish grin returning, “I can give you more than just glitter for that.” Tom squeals as he starts sucking a deep bruise into the inside of one thigh, teeth marks and all, that Tom presses on every time he sees it for the next week.

[hallow-moons]

Obey Me! In an

Ice bath

Lucifer

Why? Just why he asks.

Takes a lot of convincing to get him to agree to put his whole body in fridged water.

He's the Avatar of Pride so of course he gets in all in one fell swoop.

But you can see that eye twitching.

He is regretting every life choice up to this point.

Still tries to take it like a champ though.

"Ok you can get out now." ...he just sits there.

Says its because he's still fine.

But its because he cant move.

Beel has to come in and pick him up out of the water.

Luci is just silently seething for the next week.

Mammon

"Why would the Great Mammon do something like that!?"

You have to give him the biggest puppy dog eyes to get him to agree.

Screams as soon as he puts one foot in the ice bath.

"NO NONONO NO NOOOOO"

"I'm just gonna try to pee to warm up anything..."

"You'd better be so grateful you damn human! You're the only person I'd do this shit for!"

Shivers the entire time even though it makes it worse.

Has a temporary mental break part way through.

Just cries.

Literally flies out of the tub once the time is up.

Does not speak to you for a whole week.

Levianthan

Probably swims in the aquarium with Henry so he's ok with it.

Also he sleeps in a tub. So why not?

He's just flustered that you get to see him shirtless.

When he finally gets comfortable, his demon form comes out.

His tail just lighting wagging over the side of the tub like a mermaid.

He's in his element and forgets that this even some sort of challenge.

Just scrolls through his phone looking at anime stuff.

"You can get out now."

"Huh? Oh I forgot I was in here... I'm fine though. I'll get out later."

You have to make him get out so you can make the others do it.

Then he just goes and gets in the tank with Henry.

Satan

"Why on earth would I put myself through that..?"

You'll have to promise to buy him a ton of books or a whole ass cat to get him to agree.

Or tell him that Lucifer did it and now Satan HAS to show him up.

"...If that ass can do I can do it better."

Sticks his foot in and immediately starts cursing.

Just a color string of cuss words for about 10 minutes.

Honestly after that, the water gets hot. He is so angry that the water temperature rises.

"... is it supposed to burn?... it's burning?!"

Is angry at himself for agreeing and and pissed that he failed.

"Put more ice in it!!"

Actually, you'd better have his reward ready by the time he gets out of the bath. His is pissed.

Asmodeus

Stares at you in pure confusion for a moment.

"Absolutely not! Why would you even think about making me do such a thing to my beautiful skin?!?"

Puts one toe in and immediately screams both lungs out of his chest.

*sobbing* MC whhhyyy would you make me do this!? You're so meeeeaaannn!"

You're gonna have to promise him a real good night in bed.

Cries and just complains about how bad this has to be for his skin.

Play some music for him in the background. That may help.

Google some facts and tell him that this is actually good for his skin!

"It constricts the blood flow which gives your skin a healthier glow!"

He just looks at you in disbelief.

For once, he doesnt care how good it can be for his appearance.

Just cries some more as Beel hauls him out of the tub.

Gets him some fuzzy blankets and a heater so he doesnt completely hate you.

Beelzebub

Is not surprised in the slightest. He already takes ice baths since he works out.

Plus he has had to get both Lucifer and Asmo out of the tub.

At this point, it's not really a challenge for him and you just get to see him in swim wear.

"I mean, yeah, it's a little chilly, but not bad... why is this a challenge?"

Up the ante by giving him a slushie or ice cream to induce brain freeze.

That's going to be the only way to get a reaction out him.

"Oh... oh brain freeze... oww..."

Continues to do his thing.

No one can hold a candle to Beel on this.

Belphegor

"...why in the nine HELLS would I do that?"

Honestly, probably a bad idea to talk Belphie into doing this.

He'll probably fall asleep in the bath and die.

Beel would have to pick him up and throw Belphie in the ice bath.

But Beel isn't going to do that to his little brother.

You have to promise him all the cuddles and naps as a reward.

He'll only last a few minutes in the bath though.

"...fuck this. It's cold."

You tell him that Lucifer did it. "Yeah, I'd love to see him suffer, but I ain't doing it."

The (Un)datables will be in separate post later! This has to be one of the longer headcanons I've done that wasnt an alphabet list. 😱

[meat-husband]

Could you pleaasse do a second part of drunk Vincent ? Like is he going to be embarrassed the next morning about what he said??? I NEED this for my well being

Local idiots team up to play matchmaker for art goblin. 

Part one here!

—

You watch Bo from the corner of your eye, a little annoyed that he was not so subtly ignoring the movie in favor of an old magazine. The room was dark besides the glow of the TV, so you were almost certain he couldn’t actually be reading it, but you didn’t want to start an argument so early into the night. Sighing, you try to pay attention to the film and not let your aggravation get the best of you. 

So far, the movie night was not going well. Lester hadn’t shown up at all, which was a little surprising seeing as you often had a hard time getting him to leave your various get togethers. You had called, but there had been no answer, which you had hoped meant he was on his way, but two hours later had you sitting on the couch, still waiting. That left you with the twins, but they weren’t much better - Vincent was also a no-show, but that was to be expected, and Bo was terrible company at the best of times. 

It wasn’t long before your own enthusiasm began to fade, idly picking through the bowl of popcorn in your lap. You weren’t surprised at how it had turned out, since without Lester around to keep things going, your attempts at getting the brothers together had a low success rate.

“So,” you say, keeping your eyes on the TV and trying to sound nonchalant. “Where’s Lester at? Not like him to miss movie night.”

“In town.”

You frown, turning to look at him. Bo ignores you, still idly flipping pages of his magazine.

“Oh? That’s odd.”

That earns you a stare, his eyes flicking up for a brief moment to glare at you before looking away.

“Everything he does is odd,” he snaps. “Don’t bother tryin’ to make any sense of it.”

“That’s not what I meant. I meant, it’s odd for him to be going into town.”

Bo doesn’t reply, but you can tell that his attention is no longer on the magazine. His eyes stare straight ahead at the middle of the page, unmoving. 

“You know. In the middle of the night.”

More silence.

“What about Vincent?”

His head jerks up, looking clearly irritated.

“Who said anything about Vincent?”

You give him a glare of your own. 

“Well, he didn’t show up either. I know he usually doesn’t, but all the basement lights are off. So, where’s he at?”

He shrugs, muttering under his breath, and that’s apparently the end of the conversation. Bo doesn’t keep your gaze, eyes glancing away immediately, and you’re instantly suspicious. Throwing his magazine onto the table, Bo leaves the room abruptly and the click of a door at the end of the hall tells you that he’s gone for the night. 

Things had been… odd, lately. You weren’t sure what was going on, but everyone had been behaving differently. Both Bo and Lester seemed to be having quiet, secretive talks together when you weren’t around, and your presence always shut down whatever conversations they were having. It made you think that it was, in fact, you that they were discussing, though you couldn’t imagine why. 

Vincent, at least, was behaving just as usual - you hadn’t seen him for nearly a week, not since you had helped him drunkenly stumble into your room and tucked him in. It wasn’t uncommon for you to go long stretches of time without seeing the elusive twin, but you wondered if there wasn’t an extra element to it this time. He had always been shy around you, and you were sure that it would only be made worse after having seen him in such a state. 

The noise of a vehicle outside draws your attention, a familiar stuttering rumble that you recognize as Lester’s truck. A second later headlights flash across the windows, briefly lighting up the dark room as the truck pulls up to the porch. 

You leave the couch, setting the popcorn on the coffee table and hurrying over to the front door. Pulling it open and peering through the screen door, you see Lester coming up the steps, Vincent trailing after him. The dog bounces between them, pawing at their legs. 

“And where have you two been?” You call out.

“Out,” Lester replies with a grin, stopping in front of the closed door. “You been waitin’ up for me?”

“You missed movie night.”

He looks a little guilty at that, glancing back at Vincent who had paused at the bottom of the steps. 

“Sorry, we just got caught up,” he explains. “It’s not too late, though, we still got time.”

“Where were you?” You ask again, looking at them both curiously. 

“Just drivin’,” Lester insists, putting his hand on the door handle. “You gonna make us stand out here all night?”

Not in town then. Either Bo had lied, or Lester was doing so now. You frown, wondering what exactly needed to be kept such a secret from you. You step out of the way, letting them both brush past you, reaching down to pat the dog as he runs into the house. 

Lester heads immediately for the kitchen, the fridge door squealing as he pulls it open. 

“You sticking around for a movie, or are you gonna leave me with Lester?”

Vincent stops, halfway down the hall and clearly trying to make an unnoticed exit. He glances at you over his shoulder, shaking his head and gesturing vaguely in the opposite direction. You hadn’t expected him to stay, so you let it go, but Lester reappears, poking his head out of the kitchen to give his brother a firm look. 

“Vincent’s staying, of course,” he says, in contrast to the other’s already retreating form. “Gimme a second.”

He darts out, walking quickly down the hall despite your insistence that it was fine. You’re ignored, left standing by the door and listening to the brothers arguing in the distance. 

“You gotta,” you hear Lester whisper loudly. “It’s just a movie, come on. Remember what we talked about and it’ll be fine.”

You can’t help but raise an eyebrow at that. Everyone knew that Vincent wasn’t very sociable and you understood why, even if you wished he would be around a little more. 

They come back up the hall, Vincent looking reluctant but resigned. Lester nudges his side, giving him a look that you’re sure was supposed to mean something, before heading back into the kitchen. 

“You don’t have to stay,” you say once his brother had left. “We’ll have a movie night again, you can always come to another one.”

He looks at you, meeting your eyes and shuffling nervously in place. His hands twist into his overlong sleeves, tugging at the frayed material, and you wait for him to respond, but he only stares. 

“You alright?”

Vincent nods quickly, finally looking away. 

“You, uh,” he starts, eyes now glued to the ground. “Look nice.”

His voice is frazzled even beyond its normal rasp. It takes you a moment to process his words, looking down at yourself with surprise. An old tank top and a pair of soft flannel shorts that had been scavenged from an old suitcase made up your outfit, definitely not something you expected to be complimented on. 

“Oh? Thank you?” 

You’re unsure of what to say now and it appears that Vincent is too, standing awkwardly in front of you and avoiding your eyes. 

“It’s comfortable, I guess,” you continue, trying to break the silence. “I wear it just about every day.”

“You…” Vincent grumbles low in the back of his throat, face pointed at the ground. “Look nice every day.”

You can feel the sudden heat in your face. This was almost certainly the most words you had ever gotten out of him before, but you weren’t expecting this. 

With a laugh, you look up at him with a grin. “You’re gonna outdo Bo at his charming southern gentleman gimmick if you keep that up.”

[ifistoptherain]

Star Crossed Lovers, a TsukkiYama fanfic

You can buy me a ko-fi here. You can read this on AO3 here.

Yamaguchi gets approached by Johzenji's captain, Terushima Yuuji to go on a date and Tsukishima Kei gets jealous. It looks like two alphas have their sight on Yamaguchi, how will he choose?

--

Karasuno wins against Johzenji. The adrenaline and happiness surging through Tadashi’s body is incredible. They can keep playing! It’s smiles all around as Daichi yells at them to line up and they all bow.

Playing against Johzenji was fun. The energy that that team brought to the game was wild and unpredictable, different from the other teams that would strategize every move. As usual, Hinata had the most fun, his happy pheromones flooding the court with the scent of oranges.

He’s packing up his things, with Tsukki right next to him when the Johzenji captain approaches. 

“Pinch server-kun, will you go out with me?”

He’s stunned. He can feel the blush creeping up his cheeks. Nothing has happened with Tsukki since their presentation and he’s tired of waiting. Maybe a bit of jealousy would be the exact push Tsukki needs.

He nods, holding out his phone to get his number. Terushima grins and walks away. And if Tadashi was to be honest, he’d been wondering how a tongue piercing tastes throughout the match. (Tadashi was really glad he always wears scent blockers, no way he’d be able to explain why his pheromones were horny. Actually, he could. Terushima was totally his type and it didn’t look like he was looking for anything too serious.)

He looks down at his phone. “Terushima Yuuji.” Yuuji? It means playful child, how fitting. He smiles at his phone and adds a heart emoji to his name. His heart is fluttering right now.

“So you’re going to go out with him?” Tsukki asks, expression unreadable. 

“Yup, why are you jealous?” Tsukki shakes his head, muttering something about being careful.

“He seems nice, and I like how he smells.” For someone so wild, Terushima smells like vanilla. How ironic. 

Just then, Yachi yells at them and they head to their bus. He’s honestly really tired, a quick nap is just what he needs.

When he gets home, his mother immediately wrinkles her nose. “Why did Tsukishima scent mark you so aggressively?”  

Tadashi shakes his head. “I have no idea, but today an alpha from another school asked me out, mom. I said yes!”

“Eh, I thought Tsukishima was courting you. You always smell like him. Are you sure you want to go out with someone else?”

“That’s what I thought too. I like him but he hasn’t initiated anything. I’m tired of waiting. Maybe a little jealousy will work?”

His mother punches him in the arm, “That’s seriously sly. Who taught you this behavior?”

“Like mother, like son.”

“Hey, I’m an innocent person! I bet you picked it up from your beloved Tsukki.”

“Moooommm.”

“Fine, fine, tell me all about this new alpha.”

“His name is Terushima Yuuji and he’s from Johzenji…”

--

When he checks his phone that night, there are no texts from Tsukki which was weird. So, instead he decides to text Terushima. He takes a selfie with his tongue sticking out, captioning “I wonder what a tongue piercing tastes like?” A bit flirty but Tadashi has been wondering.

He gets an immediate reply. Good, Tadashi likes attention. “Why don’t you find out this weekend?”

<b> Tadashi: </b> can i call you teru

<b> teruteru <3: </b> Only if i can call u dashi

<b> Tadashi: </b> then i should be calling you yuuji ◕ ◡ ◕

<b> teruteru <3: </b> You can if you want

<b> teruteru <3: </b> Who was the blond alpha? Would have burnt me to crisp with his glare D:

<b> Tadashi: </b> hes just my best friend

<b> teruteru <3: </b> You like him?

Tadashi pauses, unsure how to reply, admitting his feelings for Tsukki would ruin his chances with Terushima.

<b> teruteru <3: </b> Well im not looking for anyth serious anw

<b> teruteru <3: </b> I broke up with my ex a while back, we can be each others’ rebounds

<b> teruteru <3: </b>  In fact riling up an alpha seems especially fun

<b> Tadashi: </b>  u wanna watch a movie this sun?

<b> teruteru <3: </b> Sureeeee

<b> Tadashi: </b> ure definitely okay with dating for fun?

<b> teruteru <3: </b>  Yupppp

<b> Tadashi: </b> by the way

<b> Tadashi: </b> ill be preheat then so :p

<b> teruteru <3: </b> fuckkkkkkkkk

It’s Thursday so Tadashi only has three days till his date.

They’re having lunch in class when he tells Tsukki that he’s meeting Teru on Saturday, only for him to get no reaction. Tsukki passes him his lunchbox. Tadashi’s mother is a single mother and she’s usually too busy to cook for Tadashi. Tadashi tries to cook when he can but most of the time he’s too tired from working part time at Shimada Mart and the Yamaguchi family ends up eating take out. 

Stupid Tsukishima. If he didn’t like Tadashi, why would he constantly scent mark him and bring him a lunch box all the time? Honestly, Tadashi could ask Tsukki out. But, he knows Tsukki might say yes even if he didn’t have feelings for Tadashi, and Tadashi could just be overthinking Tsukki’s actions.

So, Tadashi wasn’t going to make the first move but he wasn’t going to wait forever either. He loves Tsukki but he knows that he deserves better than that.

The food is great. His lunches with Tsukki are the rare home cooked meals he gets. Curry rice always reminds him of his dad. But the sweet Japanese curries are different from the ones his dad used to make. Maybe, he should make something that his dad used to make. It’s hard to get Indian spices in Japan…

He really must drop by and thank Tsukki’s mum soon. Maybe with a gift?

“Hey Tsukki, should I get your mother a gift? She’s always helping me and my mum out. I feel bad.”

“No, it’s fine. But she did mention that she wanted to see you soon.”

“I’ll come by for dinner soon then.”

“You seemed sad?” He hadn’t even realised he had looked sad.

“I was just reminded of my dad. Thought I should make some of the food he used to make, maybe I’ll make some for mum.” His dad passed away a year ago. They’re okay with it now. Both his mum and him were able to brace themselves as he was sick for a while. 

But, sometimes it hurts. Like someone twisted a knife in his heart. 

Tadashi smiles. “It’s not a big deal, Tsukki.” It really isn't.  Grief demands to be felt and there’s nothing you can do about it. It just makes him appreciate his time with his dad more.

“Is Aki-nii coming back this weekend? I think he mentioned something like that a while back.”

And immediately, Tsukki looks annoyed. “How does he have the time to text you and not me? I’m his brother.”

“Well, Tsukki. I’m the favourite, besides you ignore him all the time. Now, if I were to tell Aki-nii what you just said, he might text you more often.” He points his chopsticks in Tsukki’s direction.

“Shut up, Yamaguchi.”

“Sorry, Tsukki.” He looks pointedly at him. “But… If you were more vocal in your affection, Aki-nii would reciprocate.” Tsukki better take the hint. Or maybe not, he would enjoy his date with Teru after all.

“By the way, I won’t be in school next week. Take notes for me, will you?” He can see the cogs turning in Tsukki’s brain.

“You’re going to be spending your pre-heat with Terushima? Just be safe.” Ugh. Tadashi could bang his head on the table. Will Tsukki ever get it?

“I will.”

“What do you think I should wear for the date? I was thinking something punk, Teru has those vibes. He might like it.”

--

Terushima picks him up, looking as punk as he could imagine, with a motorbike. Terushima looks great, the pants are tight, showing off his toned legs and bubble butt. The white tank top shows off his muscular arms through the sheer black top.

And Tadashi is really glad he went through his mother’s closet and picked out a leather jacket with spikes on it and borrowed Yachi’s choker. He’s wearing a t-shirt that he owns and skinny jeans. 

“Terushima! You look good.”

“I thought you were going to call me Yuuji. And you look good too.” He holds out a helmet for Tadashi to wear. 

“Only if you call me Tadashi.”

“Okay, Tadashi, hop on.”

Yuuji clearly has a need for speed. Tadashi thinks it's a ploy to get him to hold onto the alpha’s waist tightly. It works.

The wind also blows Yuuji’s pheromones right into his face. It’s a bit intoxicating, he hasn’t been in such close parameters with an alpha before.

Yuuji pays for everything, of course Tadashi offers to pay but it's an empty offer. There is nothing sexier than a capable alpha, it makes him feel like he would be well taken care of.

The movie bores Tadashi out of his mind so he leans into Yuuji. Nuzzles his face into Yuuji’s scent glands. He likes how Yuuji smells. He smells so sweet, a bit sugary like Tadashi could eat the alpha up. It’s a fun thought.

His preheat was making him just a bit more horny than usual. After a few minutes of nuzzling, Yuuji looks him in the eye. 

“You smell spicy, it’s rare.”  Yuuji sucks at the skin of his neck.

“I’m half indian.” Tadashi is pretty sure what someone smells like depends on the food they ate as a child. Huh, maybe Yuuji ate a lot of vanilla ice cream as a child.

He bites the sensitive skin of Tadashi’s scent glands, sucking on it and Tadashi can’t suppress the moan.

“Be quiet, <i>omega</i>.” Tadashi knows that Yuuji knows that the two of them are probably the only two left in the movie theatre.

“Make me, <i>alpha<i>.” Yuuji’s eyes almost seem to glow as he immediately closes the gap between their lips. He pushes Tadashi onto his back, who promptly wraps his legs around the alpha’s waist. His lips are rough, a bit dry. He tastes like the cheap, buttery popcorn they had earlier. Tadashi’s tongue runs along Yuuji’s tongue piercing, it doesn’t taste like anything really.

His hands are on Tadashi’s back, but one is creeping up his shirt. They stop making out for a moment and Tadashi takes off Yuuji’s shirt. Meanwhile, Yuuji pushes up Tadashi’s shirt, tongue dragging along his chest, sucking on the nipples. The metal feels cool against his skin.

Meanwhile, Tadashi feels up Yuuji’s muscular arms. He’s so strong...

“Fuck, you smell so fuckable.” He’s back to nosing at his scent glands and sucking on that skin. Tadashi lifts his hips up, gyrating against Yuuji’s crotch. They’re both hard, Tadashi notices with satisfaction.

Yuuji stops for a moment and Tadashi whines. 

“Your heat’s starting soon, let’s leave.” Ugh. It would only start tomorrow so why couldn’t he enjoy his time with Yuuji?

“Yuuji, I don’t want to…” He leans away, getting up. Deep down, Tadashi knows he’s right. He pulls Tadashi up by the arm.

Yuuji leads them out and Tadashi follows, clinging onto his arm. Tadashi does feel slightly light headed now that he thinks about it. Yuuji is awfully quiet and Tadashi’s pretty sure they’re speeding. It must take a lot of focus to deny an omega almost in heat. At least, wrapping his arms around Yuuji is nice.

When they arrive, Yuuji pushes his shirt into Tadashi’s arms. 

“For your heat.” Tadashi plants a very chaste kiss on Yuuji’s lips.

“Thanks for today, Yuuji.”

He hears the motorcycle rev off, once he’s closed the door behind him. He’s sweet and respectful, isn’t he?

“I’m home!” He says to no one in particular, his mum must have picked up an extra shift at the bar again.

He’s alone again. Yuuji just left and he misses him terribly. There’s probably an hour left until his heat actually hits.

<b> Tadashi: </b> thanks for today

<b> Tadashi: </b> drive safe

<b> teruteru <3: </b> :D

He had already built his nest and stocked his room with water in advance. Or maybe his mum had put the water bottles in? He doesn’t remember.

<b> Tadashi: </b>tsukkkiiiiiii 

<b> Tadashi: </b> he has a motorcycle! a motorcycle!!

 <b> Tadashi: </b> the movie we watched was super boring but

<b> Tadashi: </b> yuuji was really sweet i think i could fall for him

<b> Tadashi: </b> but hes not looking for anyth too serious

The messages show up as read but Tsukki doesn’t reply because when does he ever. There’s a meal in the fridge, some take out his mum probably got from work. He climbs into his nest on his bed, after dinner. AC on blast, heats could get so hot and so sticky.

During his heat, Tadashi imagines not just Tsukki’s long fingers but also Yuuji’s firm but gentle touches and his playful bites.

It’s Thursday afternoon and Tadashi’s heat is mostly gone. It’s just a dull ache in his bones now. Yuuji’s poor sheer shirt has been desecrated. Tadashi handwashes it, and then sends a pic of him wearing it with nothing below to Yuuji. Also, Yuuji’s hickies hadn’t faded in the 4 days since then.

<b> Tadashi: </b> (*^^*) the hickies still havent fadedddd

<b> teruteru <3: </b> I like to show off my work~ 

<b> teruteru <3: </b> Besides, I didn’t hear complaints at the time~~

<b> Tadashi: </b> (*^^*) 

He definitely had been in pre heat then because he hadn’t noticed how aggressive Yuuji was. The hickeys hurt if he touches them. Yuuji’s aggressiveness was sexy actually.

He’ll probably have to put makeup on them when he goes to school. But it's only Thursday and he’d probably ditch on Friday anyway so hopefully, it would fade before next Monday. 

Tomorrow, he has a morning shift at the convenient store nearby and then an afternoon shift at Shimada mart. 

<b> tsukki <3: </b> is ur heat over?

<b> Tadashi: </b> mostly but ill be working tmro, keep taking notes tsukki!

He’s been leeching on Tsukki a lot actually, from notes to food.

<b> Tadashi: </b> u wanna practise volleyball with me tmro? ill teach u the jump float serve

<b> teruteru <3: </b>  YESSSS

He takes the rare opportunity to cook himself and his mum a meal. She usually leaves in the late afternoon for work and arrives in the wee hours of the morning. But the upside to those working hours was that Tadashi got to spend time with her during the day. If she had the typical working hours, the both of them would be too tired to talk.

He just makes omelette rice. It’s simple and he’s still worn out from his heat. After dinner, he studies the school work he had missed. He knows Yuuji isn’t looking for a serious relationship but he can’t get past the what if. But he knows that's unfair to Yuuji since he still likes Tsukki. Tsukki with his golden hair and golden eyes and kind words reserved only for Tadashi, makes him feel special. They’ve been friends for years, Tsukki knows him like the back of his hand. It’s comfortable and he knows Tsukki will always be there for him but with Yuuji it’s different. It’s new and exciting and so great to finally be with someone who would do something about their feelings instead of just having Tadashi on the hook. But, part of him can’t shake the fact that somehow, deep inside him, he feels like he’s cheating on Tsukki. It’s ridiculous, really. 

He’s just lucky his omega hadn’t decided that Tsukki was his alpha. Then, he would have been in a world of suffering by constantly pining. Actually, Tadashi does pine. He just knows he deserves better than that. In fact, he thinks his omega likes Yuuji more. That whore. Why else would his heat start early?

(He knows he’s calling himself a whore, shut up.)

The next day, work goes by slowly. So few people come in so Tadashi gets to play on his phone and text Yachi. He knows, knows, that Yachi has been dying to hear about his date. The only reason she hadn’t called was because she thought he was still in his heat. He calls her during lunch. He tells her all about how he’d been so respectful despite his heat starting early. Respectful alphas were so hard to come by. God. Yachi gushes how if he doesn’t end up being with Yuuji, he better give Yachi, Yuuji’s number. Pffttt. He’s excited to see Yuuji later. 

His shift finally finishes, and he heads home to change into a t-shirt and gym shorts before meeting Yuuji. He’s in and out before he knows it. When he gets to the court, Yuuji is already there. Wearing a tank top again. Show off, he knows he looks good in tank tops doesn’t he?

“Yuuji.”

“Dashi.” He smiles, the instant he looks at Tadashi. He’s so cute. They play one on one volleyball for a while before he teaches Yuuji how to do the jump float serve. 

By the time they're done, Tadashi is soaked in sweat. They are sitting next to each other, taking sips of water and Yuuji just seems to glisten under the yellow street lights. 

“You know, I never did thank you properly the other day.” Yuuji’s eyebrows quirk upwards, smiles growing wider.

“Oh? How would you like to thank me?” He brings his face closer to Tadashi’s.

“Why don’t you come back to my place and find out?” He whispers into Yuuji’s ear. Immediately  Yuuji takes the opportunity to bite his neck. What was with him and Tadashi’s neck?

“Not here, Yuu-” He licks Tadashi’s scent glands before stopping.

They get up and Yuuji looks like the cat that got the cream.

They get on his bike and Tadashi manages to persuade him to forego the helmet. His place is only a few minutes away anyway.

He loves how the wind runs through his hair and he loves how he gets to hold Yuuji, basically feeling him up. He hooks his head on the side of Yuuji’s neck, getting a full blast of Yuuji’s pheromones. It’s heady and lustful, he’s clearly horny. Though Tadashi doubts he himself smells any different.

They get there in record time. Tadashi doesn’t know how they make it up to his room.

Yuuji is aggressive as usual but Tadashi stops him.

“It’s my treat, Yuuji. You can just enjoy.”  Yuuji sits on the edge of his bed and Tadashi unzips his pants, pulling off his boxers. He begins by licking the dick from the base to the tip, taking his time to go slow, just to tease Yuuji. He then licks the tip repeatedly and hears Yuuji groan.

“Faster,” He moans. His hand grabs onto Tadashi’s hair, pushing his head forward. Tadashi swallows his dick whole. Head bobbing as Yuuji pants. Precum begins dripping from it and Tadashi laps it up, tongue swirling around the dick.

“No... you don’t have to,” Yuuji breathes out. Tadashi ignores him, moving faster and swallowing the cum when Yuuji comes. 

Yuuji looks at him through hooded eyes and says, “Now it’s my turn to treat you.” He picks up Tadashi from the floor, placing him on the bed. And as usual, he begins by biting at Tadashi’s neck who was beginning to think that the alpha had a thing for Tadashi’s neck. Frickin’ vampire.

He begins to unzip Tadashi’s pants and he has the realisation that he doesn’t want this, not yet anyway. 

“No, Yuuji, stop.” And immediately, Yuuji stops and lets Tadashi sit up.

“I’m sorry, I thought I wanted it but I don't. Not yet, anyway.” He plays with his hands not looking directly at Yuuji.

“You don’t have to apologise, as long as we are both comfortable. You wanna cuddle?”

And that’s how Tadashi ends up in Yuuji’s arms, although he’s taller and once again, Yuuji is nosing at Tadashi’s neck.

“What’s with you and my neck? You’re like a vampire.” 

“I just love how you smell, it’s sexy. You mind if I scentmark you? ” 

“No, go ahead.” And, Yuuji rubs his scent glands all over his neck and head and face. Possessive much?

“I know we said we won’t get too serious but I like you and I don’t want other alphas after you.”

“I like you too, Yuuji. Besides, there’s no one after plain old me.”

“What about blondie, you still like him, don’t you?” Tadashi stiffens.

“Yea maybe but I’m here with you not him, that counts for something right?” He hears Yuuji sigh, he feels sorry. He hasn’t completely moved on from Tsukki. Not yet, anyway.

“You wanna stay the night? It’s too dark for you to be driving out there… But you might have to deal with my mum in the morning.”

“I’ll stay, I get to hold a pretty thing all night anyway.”

When Tadashi wakes up the next morning, Yuuji isn’t in bed. But then, he hears laughter coming from downstairs. No, this is bad.

When he walks down after washing up, both Yuuji and his mom are laughing together.

“Mommmmm.” God, she had probably spilled all of his secrets already.

“Tadashi! You didn’t tell me that Terushima was so charming.” He narrows his eyes at her, shouldn’t she be asleep?

“I’m just heating up leftovers for the both of you and then I’ll go, I promise.” And to his horror, Tadashi finds a photo album of his baby pictures on the table. Nooooo.

“Mom, why’d you show this? I’m embarrassed.”

“Don’t be, you looked very cute.” He punches Yuuji on the arm.

“Of course, you’re going to say that now and tease me about it later.”

“I won’t, I promise. I promise.” He says between laughter. God, he’ll never recover from the teasing will he?

True to her word, his mother disappears and they both sit down for breakfast.

“I’m sorry about my mum.”

“Hey, why are you saying that? She was really nice.”

 They talk about nothing important, mainly volleyball during breakfast and also about how Yuuji was in the college prep class? What a contrast to his punk vibes.

Yuuji prepares to leave after breakfast, and Tadashi hands him back the sheer shirt he had lent for his heat.

“Yuuji, can I scent mark you?” Yuuji’s eyes light up, grin bright as the sun.

“You don’t even have to ask.”

“You sure it’s not going to affect the fake punk image you have going on? To smell like an omega?”

“It’s not fake, I am a punk!”

“A punk who is in college prep class.” 

Tadashi stands in front of Yuuji who stands ever so still, waiting. He doesn’t move as Tadashi rubs his glands on the alpha’s face and neck.

“Done! Goodbye, Yuuji.”

“What? I don’t get a goodbye kiss?”

Tadashi shakes his head, he’s so stupid, and pulls Yuuji in for a kiss. Their lips part and Yuuji steps away.

“I’ll get going then.” 

Tadashi holds onto his arm, “Do you have to?”, and pulls him into another kiss.

“I have to, I told my sister I’d help her with her homework.”

“Aww, the punk who wears leather and rides a motorbike helps his sister with her homework.”

“Hey! Besides, if I wasn’t leaving you wouldn’t kiss me so much.”

“One last kiss.” 

Just then, there’s a knock on the door. It’s too early for deliveries, Tadashi thinks as Yuuji opens the door.

It’s Tsukki.

[septiembrre]

30 for the kiss prompts!!!!

Prompt: Weak, sweaty kisses because it’s unbearably hot.

@sothischickshe, I made a concerted effort to keep this silly and short. And I gave myself frown lines as I watched it grow longer and longer and… angsty. D: 

Featuring:

A magical reappearance of Beth’s furniture

A broken air conditioner

A heatwave

Lots of summer clothing

Sweat (but like the typical annoying kind. This is not a euphemism for sex)

Beth and her anxiety

Rio, a certified Goth™

A relationship not yet ended

Pain

And a Mick cameo, of course!

On AO3, too!

---------

I’VE GOT TO LOSE MY COOL

Beth’s first mistake was not calling the HVAC technician first thing in the morning. She had called on the way out the door, left a voicemail. 

It shouldn’t have been a big deal. Wednesdays were usually slow. She would be able to sneak away at almost any point to take a call back. In the message she left, Beth made sure to mention that her only conflict was at three (the weekly drop of bills from Mick). Otherwise, there was plenty of time to schedule the service visit with perfect timing for the impending heatwave. 

But, of course, her life was no longer neat.   

On this random mid-day shift, there had been a flurry of customers at the store -- multiple special orders for invitations, a desperate maid of honor running in for last minute bridal shower details. And, naturally, it was in this hubbub that the tech had returned her call. There was another subsequent round of phone tag. Beth left a new message. 

On her phone, there was also a text from Mick. He was held up -- and that never happened. The texts hinted at some mysterious, more-important errand for their boss and she was a little curious. He had quashed her follow-up questions (only a couple!), with a gruff, “I’ll get there when I get there.” 

And he indeed eventually arrived to Paper Porcupine -- a whole hour late and in a terrible mood. He barreled in the backdoor, sans his typical flannel and sans-leather jacket. Instead, he was in a t-shirt and sweaty as all get out in the late afternoon heat. Beth had stared at him aghast as her phone chimed with another call. It had been a perky soundtrack to Mick’s string of colorful swears when he realized he had left behind half the one-dollar bills needed for the next print run.

Well, at least that mess wasn’t on her. 

When Beth finally caught the technician on her drive home, she confirmed what Beth had begun to suspect in her gut: they were all booked up with service calls until next Monday. 

“It’s the heatwave, Mrs. Boland,” the tech explained over the car’s speaker phone. “Half of Detroit is calling in about faulty units. We can get you in first thing next week.” 

Beth had nodded unseen and despairing. She had the AC blasting in the car, but she was still sticky with sweat. It was going to be precisely eleven degrees hotter by tomorrow. Then, it would chart 105 the day after that.  

Good Lord. 

Her second mistake was not immediately driving to the store to purchase a pool.

This is how Beth finds herself in the middle of the brutal once-a-year Michigan heatwave, reflecting on how truly her life no longer plays out in the tidy, pre-ordained trajectories it used to. And some days this is thrilling but other days, today, it’s... 

Terrible. 

Beth tries to do what she can. 

She digs out her most breathable pair of exercise shorts, short short and purchased two children ago. She dons her comfiest, lift bra and throws on a frayed pink tank top. She no longer wore these articles of clothing in the presence of her husband (especially after that comment now etched into her soul about “a great ass and perfectly shaped boobs”) but kept them tucked into her dresser for such hellishly hot, solitary occasions such as today. 

She pulls her hair messily into a lofty bun leaving no opportunity for it to cling to her neck. She also temporarily appropriates three of the flagging household fans and angles all of them carefully at her, meticulously layering the currents. Finally, she sprawls on her bed, starfishing her limbs for maximum air-to-skin contact. 

All of it helps a little, but she’s still hot. Beth can’t fathom anything outside of her misery, wants to shed her skin. 

She momentarily considers taking her third cold shower of the day. 

Then, without realizing it is happening, Beth finds herself an hour deep into a frenzy of online shopping, precariously balancing her laptop so it doesn’t touch her skin. 

Her focus: sandals. 

Beth knows she shouldn’t go through with the purchase. Rationally, she can admit it is a feverish spiral, fixating on one fraction of why this week is awful. But, it is all she can think about: she does not have any appropriate footwear for this heat. 

How will she survive?

From there comes a whole whorl of scenarios. If she could get away with not leaving the house, she could stay barefoot, stick to the shadowy corners of her house, shower any hour of the day. In fact, this was (part of) the reason why she had chosen to stay home as Dean took the kids to the community pool a few blocks over. Her old pair of ratty flip flops had finally given out and the mid-morning heat already had Beth at her wit’s end. God, she just needed some quiet and some sense of distance from Dean. So, she suggested the idea, urged him to go and leave her in peace.

Perhaps, she could send him out for all the kids’ needs and assorted errands? 

...But, could he be trusted? 

Well, if Beth refused to leave the house, that meant she was also choosing not to go with the kids to the movies or the library, places with functioning air conditioners where she could cool off. And what else could they do tomorrow? Maybe she could dig out the old sprinkler from the garage… But, then she’d have to go into the garage, and the temperature in there-- 

Anxiously, Beth meanders the tabs on the DSW website and adds two new pairs of flip flops to her cart. One’s a little more casual, definitely good for pool-side and backyard time. The other pair is a little more dignified. They didn’t look like they would clack. 

Well, she doesn’t need two pairs...

She’ll narrow it down later. 

In the back of her mind, Beth can acknowledge she doesn’t really need to buy anything at all, and that these sandals will not make her current discomfort any more bearable. But, it doesn’t hurt to look. 

Oh, goodness -- what about when she has to go back to Paper Porcupine for her next shift? The thought of putting on any of her flats seems like too much to bear, claustrophobic as they were in the heat. Pumps were out of the question. Which brings her to her last job-appropriate footwear option -- her ankle boots. Weirdly, that seemed to be a fashion trend that was happening now, but nope, absolutely not. 

It is in this fever pitch, that Beth makes her third and perhaps most egregious mistake: when Rio knocks on the French doors, she lets him in. 

In her defense, she’s a little dazed. As mentioned before, the current state of Michigan is literally hell and Rio’s appearance… takes her by surprise. She was not expecting him to show up today with a duffle of the rest of the small bills. He hadn’t texted and to top it off, he is wearing... an outfit she has never seen before.

A sleeveless shirt.

A sleeveless shirt and joggers, fancy athletic ones that look a price point (or three) above the ones she usually buys for Dean. However, despite this new foray into athleisure-wear, Rio remains head to toe in his favorite color with black on black Chucks rounding out the look. 

What a goth, Beth thinks, shaking her head to herself. This outfit in over-100 degree heat? 

She feels hotter just looking at him.

Like Mick the other day, Rio is sans-jacket, sans-button-up, and sans-beanie and there’s just… miles and miles of uncovered brown, freshly sun-kissed skin. 

Maybe, it’s her deep-seated jealousy of people who can tan. All her skin is good for is glowing in the dark and flash burning at the slightest interest from the sun. And mind you, she’s currently safe inside her dim bedroom, but it’s the strangest thing...  She’s burning now as her eyes trace the smooth skin exposed at the base of his neck, burning as she follows along the neat, sharp line of his collarbone where she had bit--

Stop, Beth. Why did she still want-- 

Had he purposefully shown up with a work excuse on the hottest day of the year to pester her? Was this a latent extension of his punishment? Beth thought they were past this. 

But, you know what? Whatever. Let him try.

She’s cool. She might be sweaty as hell, and wanting to crawl out of her skin, but she is cool as a cucumber, cold as ice, profoundly unbothered. 

She’s so cool that she doesn’t say a word. 

Not to greet him, or remark upon the mistake with the drop or… his atypical clothing choice. 

She doesn’t comment either on the state of their business or ask after whatever it was he had assigned Mick to do this week and had seemingly gone awry. 

She doesn’t comment as his mouth drops open with surprise as he takes in her appearance, his eyes widening with something as intolerably warm as the air around them. The bag slips from his grip just inside her doorway.

Nor does she say anything when Rio follows her back to bed, tethered to her through a tenuous spell of heat (weather or otherwise). She’s cool, indifferent, breezy actually as she repositions herself in the crosshairs of the fans. If she pretends he doesn’t matter, she doesn’t have to share the breeze right? So she doesn’t pay much mind as Rio slips off his sneakers and settles next to her. Instead, she re-balances the laptop and resumes pursuing the online DSW store. 

She doesn’t say anything as he eventually shuffles closer, presumably to watch as she adds strappy sandals to her cart (or more probably to peek down her shirt). And god-- this stupid tank top. Maybe her boobs look better from over there in Rio-world, but over here she is sticky with underboob sweat and crossing her fingers that none of it shows through her bra. 

His shoulder leans against hers.

And she has every reason to push him away, but… his skin is cool and smooth and not the most intolerable part of this weekend. So, she lets him stay there. 

And she continues to ignore him, cool-like, or cool-aspiring.

Until he no longer lets her. 

Concentrated as she is on her shopping, she notes idly as Rio’s foot reaches out to nudge one of her fans to aim more directly at him.

Beth can’t help the snarl that comes out of her mouth, “Don’t.” 

He always brings out the worst in her.

There’s a low snicker. Her gaze drops down to take in Rio’s arm as it presses up fully against hers. His fingers reach over to pinch her thigh. 

“Damn, ma.” 

There’s that heat again, the one from inside. God, she hates him. 

Beth shuffles away, frowning at her screen. Rio shuffles too, sidling up next to her again. She adds another pair of sandals to her order and then considers her cart. 

“Elizabeth…” In the corner of her eye, she catches the movement of Rio shaking his head with reprove. “Think about where you live.”

Beth flails on the bed in a display that admittedly reminds her of her own children in a fussy mood and it only annoys her more. Her bedspread sticks to her arms, the backs of her legs, and the exposed sliver of her midriff where her top is creeping up. Beth shifts, trying to dislodge the cover from her skin, mindful to protect the laptop. It’s only happenstance that she manages not to shift a single inch of where the length of her arm touches Rio’s. 

As she tries to calm down, a brief vision comes to Beth -- an alternate universe where the laptop is safely tucked away and the HVAC blessedly functions. The Rio and Beth of this fantasy are them but also not… maybe she’ll call them Christopher and Elizabeth. That Beth -- Elizabeth -- is only mildly inconvenienced by the heat raging outside. She can rest her dampened forehead against the cool arch of his-- Christopher’s neck. She can lean in to press a weak kiss at his collar bone. In fact, she can kiss it anytime she wants, invited to touch him anywhere she like. In this dream, Elizabeth’s ministrations don’t have to be surer or bolder or cool -- because she has him. 

All the time. 

She can afford to be soft. 

In turn, Christopher nuzzles his face into her hair fondly, and that Elizabeth receives a soft kiss at the crown of her head. There’s an undercurrent of sex between them, the suggestion of it, but overall the scene is sluggish in the zenith of summer and content. Elizabeth can curl her body around his and let him hold her-- 

How silly. 

Beth shakes herself out of it and realizes that Rio has shifted on his side, watching her as she’s zoned out staring at the cart full of sandals for too long. His lips twitch and almost pull into a smile. Then, he quells them into mock seriousness. 

It feels too intimate, him with her on this bed, her bed, the bed. It feels like Before. 

God, why is he here anyway? If she was alone, she could peel off all her clothes and… take an ice bath probably. 

Not think of him at least. 

Not think about that wild, feverish idea of curling up, fitting her body into his and surrendering to the heat. Not think about how desperately and pettily she wants to pinch him back. She wants to kiss that stupid look off of his face or... Maybe she could purchase all six pairs of sandals and start browsing for pools on Cloud 9 just to spite him-- 

 “I am thinking about where I live and actually, it’s the middle of summer here--” Beth bites out. “--and it’s outrageously hot.”

“Just buy yourself a pair of sturdy white lady shoes. You mean to tell me you don’t already own some Birks?”

“Excuse me--” Beth splutters, incensed. She had considered them first but had been discouraged again by the price tag for a single pair.  “White people aren’t only ones who wear Birkenstocks.”

Without missing a beat, Rio volleys back, “Baby girl, what are you going to do with so many pairs of sandals in Michigan the rest of the year?” 

“Says you.”  

“Oh?” 

“You literally have a million pairs of shoes. Your closet is insane.”

It dawns on her, what she just said. 

Oh. 

Not good. 

It’s the fucking heat. At least, the discomfort can’t blotch her cheeks any more than they already are. 

She knows that if she looked at him now, she would see Rio doing something... obnoxious with his face. He’s probably smirking in that terrible, gloating, dumb, sexy way that he does, but too bad. 

Beth refuses to look at him.

She’s indifferent and unbothered. She’s cool. She’s the kind of Beth that would never ever even think about his closet or daydream about them folding clothes together or fucking on-- 

So, instead, she snaps her laptop close with a final click. The sandals were a half-brained idea anyway and that was a conclusion she already came to on her own. Thank you very much, boss. 

She starts to get up but then Rio’s hand reaches out to curl around her thigh, pinning her to the bed. He squeezes her leg gently, as he has the audacity to shush her. 

It’s enough impetus for Beth to rear her head back to meet his gaze again and level him with her most withering glare. 

And, what do you know? She was correct. He appears to be very entertained. 

This time she feels the heat surge on her face and knows without a doubt that it shows on top of the heat rash.  

“Yeah, so… are you ever gonna tell me what you were doin’ at my house?”

“No.” She snipes, prim. 

“No?”

“I wasn’t doing anything.” It's outright untruth.

Rio’s amused disbelief and her defensiveness meet in a standoff. Beth knows from experience he’ll try to wait her out and she gnashes her teeth. 

Then, there’s a twitch of movement at her thigh, the flex of fingers she realizes are still there and Beth registers the warm span of his hand a few inches above her knee. Her gaze darts down to look at where he’s touching her. He glances down, too. Together they watch as his thumb slowly strokes her skin. Then, again. 

They both observe as the muscles in her thighs just perceptively clench.

God, him and her, in this bed. 

His voice softens to that ridiculous mumble, both low and rich. “Aw, c’mon, darlin’. You can tell me.” 

The tone raises her hackles -- as if she wasn’t already too familiar with this trap! She tries to affect nonchalance -- she’s cool -- and shrugs, “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

Rio grins. It’s sharp like a knife and charming. She hates that he’s the most attractive person she’s ever met. “You liked my closet?” 

Then, an idea comes to her-- how she can best him at his own little game.

Beth curls on her side towards him. Her cleavage deepens and god, she can instantly feel more sweat bloom but she knows what he likes. The line of their bodies is parallel, only separated by an inch or two. They’re sharing the breeze from the fans now and wisps of her hair have gotten loose from her bun and are blowing into her face. Rio’s hand shifts to resettle and it drifts up to stroke her hair back behind her ear. Then it drops to curl at her waist. And you know -- nice move -- but she can do him one better.

“Yes,” Beth says simply. She brings her hands up to trace along the neck of his shirt, across his pecs, and the expanse of skin she hasn’t seen since that afternoon of Before. “I didn’t see this though.” 

Then, in a moment of haughty malice, her fingers find the notch of his clavicle. She watches his throat bob as he swallows hard and she counts the success. She ignores the tell-tale temptation to gift him more bruises, to kiss him… 

The thought occurs to her, distantly, slowly emerging through the fog of heat, that if she tugged the fabric to the side a bit, she’d find one of the scars she gave him. Her hands become clammy and they retreat. 

“You like it?” Rio’s voice comes out a smidge hoarse. But, perhaps only someone who knows him like her would notice. 

Beth shrugs a shoulder. 

His eyes are bright as he looks back at her. His gaze shifts crass, laden with the suggestion of sex, and there’s a tinge there that's not quite sour per se. But, it’s heavy with the particular weight of who they are now. His line of sight deliberately drops to her cleavage with old, salacious purpose. 

It’s not the way he looked at her that day, that one time (or two).  

Self-rebuffed, Beth tries not to think too much about how she hates that Rio caught her dressed like this. She itches to pull her top up to her neck or scramble off the bed to find something else to throw on. She itches to disappear entirely or to retreat into her bathroom (and see if this time he’ll follow her there too). 

Slowly, in performance, Rio moves the fingers at her waist and dips them under the edge of her tank top. He traces teasingly underneath along her sweaty skin. 

“I like this.” Rio says, biting his lower lip lewdly, tugging along the hem of her shirt. 

And Beth feels-- she feels--

Too hot. 

Too objectified. 

Her stomach drops and she wants to crawl out of her skin. This wasn’t, this isn’t-- This isn’t what it was. 

No matter who they are this minute, whatever mess continues to unfold, this isn’t what that day was.  

She won’t let him ruin it. 

“You know I did really like your closet. I liked your shoe racks--” she scrambles, trying to dangle a little of what he wants and to remind him. “Your pictures. Nice touch.” 

The comment serves its purpose. It makes him pause, sufficiently rebuked by all the ways that she knows him. 

Rio extricates his hand, pulls away from her skin, as she tries again to calm herself. She needs to be cool, cool, cool. 

But, it’s unbearable -- who they are now.  

She feels frazzled and depleted as she watches Rio roll onto his back. He looks up at her ceiling, not at her. “Why can’t you be honest with me for once?” He says it tiredly, without artifice. 

She can’t stand it. 

“You’re one to talk.”  

Beth watches as Rio is now the one gritting his teeth. 

“Y’know--” There’s a poignant, festering beat and then he says, “When I fucked you in this bed, I had wanted…” 

More. 

That want goes unsaid, suspended in the air around them with the heat. 

“But, you just wanted me to fuck you,” he finishes quietly, leveling her. 

Her stomach bottoms out newly pained and she wonders if that day, those two times, are already ruined for him. Certainly, she can understand if it’s because of the bullets. But, if he still has any doubt-- 

She makes a last-ditch attempt at levity. 

“You’d probably say this is really… basic bitch of me.” The phrase fits awkwardly, and the call back immediately has Rio’s attention. She knows in her race to pull something together, to make it better, something bearable, whatever she’s going to say is going to be too candid.

“Yeah?”

“But, the times that I’ve been the most… attracted to you--” Oh god, this isn’t coming out light and casual at all. Oh no. 

Rio shakes his head at her, “Don’t stop now, Elizabeth.”

“Oh my god, shut up,” Beth huffs. Then, she tries again. “One is definitely when you were bashing in that butt-ugly car.” 

Rio’s eyebrows raise comically high. 

“You know with the crowbar,” She gestures, swinging her hand gratuitously. He absolutely already knows what she’s talking about. 

“And two..”  Beth shuts her eyes and takes a steadying breath. She hopes for the best and tries not to rush the next bit. “--was when I saw your closet was color-coordinated.” 

She sneaks a glance at him, and her stomach twists again.

He has absolutely no business looking so fondly at her. 

She strives to clarify. “But, that was before.” 

“Not anymore?”

“No.” 

Rio nods, presumably in acceptance of her refusal. 

But, then he tugs her to him, across him. Beth settles on top of him, too hot, too sweaty. Her forehead comes to rest, pressed against the soft hollow of his neck.  

[rustybutterknife]

Yo can I get some Beetlejuice headcannon. Just like, some weird shit idk. Anything. I just like reading headcannons xD

Of course!

His eyes glow reflect light (like a raccoon)

So when he goes into Lydia’s room at night (to wake her up to get up to no good) she wakes up and just sees two glowing yellow eyes looking down at her

Needless to say she screamed and punched him straight in the nose

She turns on the light and sees BJ fall straight on his ass, holding his nose as it’s bleeding

It was a fun story to tell at breakfast the next day

Also explains why BJ’s covered in blood

He chews on EVERYTHING to keep his fangs in check

(Also it’s a good stim)

The Deetz’s were tired of finding bite marks on places they weren’t supposed to be (specifically their shoes) so they buy him teething toys that are meant for babies, but he like em.

His favorite one is a necklace with these chunky black silicone pearls

He likes it because after a while of chewing, the pearls become softer

His favorite stims are flapping his hands, this one where he holds his hands and twists his arms and holds it to his face while rocking side to side, and going as fast as he can on a spinny chair. (Charles has one in his office, he’ll let BJ use it when he’s upset or he just has a lot of extra energy he needs to burn off)

He also really likes pressure stims, so he’ll sometimes get the Maitlands or Lydia to sit on his back

They found out you can make him shut up and calm down this way when he was being a chaotic little shit and Lydia told him to stop or else

“Or else what!?”

“Or else… I’ll… I’ll… I’ll sit on you!”

“Oh yeah!? I’d like to see you t-!”

And just like that he’s on the floor and Lydia’s on his back

He goes quiet for a minute while Lydia teases him before she goes

“Did I just find your off switch?”

The Maitlands catch on to it

You’ll sometimes see them having late movie nights and they’re all sitting on top of BJ

They’re all fairly light so he can handle it

He’s a pretty grimy nasty boy and he likes it that way (also it helps with dysphoria)

So when the Maitlands tell him he needs to shower if he wants to join them on the bed

He has a fit

It takes 2 hours before they can come to the agreement that he’ll shower, as long as the Maitlands join in too

Especially since they haven’t showered since they died so it seemed like a good idea

He’s kinda hesitant to undress because he’s self conscious of his top surgery scars and because he’s a little on the chunky side

They coax him into it with praise and kisses

The Deetz’s shower is pretty big thanks to renovations, so they can all fit

The water turns a gross murky greyish-brown when BJ steps in

It takes a good half hour of constantly washing him before he’s fully clean

They used up about half of the Shampoo bottle and ⅔ of the body wash

Sorry Charles

They also borrowed some of Charles’ clothes so BJ could have something to wear

Sorry Charles pt. 2: electric boogaloo

He’s a lot more pink and his hair is a lot softer (head and body)

Suddenly there’s knocking on the door

“Hey, Delia, how much longer are you gonna be in there?”

Ohshit.jpeg

They all quickly wrap up in clean towels and Adam opens the door a crack so only his head is poking out

“Hey Lydia, it’s me, sorry… uh… what do you need?”

“Oh! Sorry, I just needed to grab my hair bru- Is that Bj and Barbra in there?”

Barbra and Adam turn bright red while BJ has a shit eating grin spread across his face.

“You know what, I don’t even wanna know. Can I just get my brush? It’s in the top drawer on the right.”

Barbra nods and shyly passes her the hair brush.

“Shit, Bj, you’re really pink!”

“Please just leave so we can get dressed!”

“Alright, you got it dudes.”

They don’t talk about that incident.

They do keep BJ from being a stinky bastard

He and Charles try to bond

Bj has a hard time remembering his name (Chuckles. Charlie. And once, Gabriel.)

They bond over going to the grocery store together.

The Maitlands can’t go, so it’s just BJ and the Deetz’s.

He’s able to pass off as their chaotic college aged son

He likes to stick his head out the window during car rides

They sometimes have to keep BJ at home if they wanna go to certain stores because he’s gotten himself banned from them

He’s gotten banned from a grocery store because he’s pulled an Eddie Brock and climbed into the lobster tank

The only stores he behaves at are Lydia’s favorite places

La michoacana, the mall, and the corner store

He likes the “breather snacks” at the corner store

He’s pretty old and has a pretty busy schedule of being a bio exorcist so he hasn’t gotten around to trying foods from the 21st century

So one day Lydia buys a whole bunch of snacks she thinks BJ would like and they have a little taste test party

She also snuck a couple of snacks just to see his reaction (warheads, takis, xxtra flamin hot Cheetos)

When he tried warheads, he just went “oh, this is pretty ni-“ then immediately scrunched up his face. Think of the meme with the cat and the banana.

Lydia almost had an asthma attack from laughing so hard.

He will eat anything you give him, no matter what.

Some of the things he’s eaten are a 5 pound gummy bear (in one sitting), a bath bomb, chocolate laxatives, straight up hot sauce, and shaving cream

He’s a slut for lil Debbie snacks

He also really loves hot Cheetos and mazapán

Lydia once bought him a full pack of mazapán and it was gone within 3 days

Also once, while sleep deprived and talking to the Maitlands, she referred to him as “Beechito” (which, for those of you who don’t know, adding -ito to the end of a name is a masculine term of endearment.)

Adam and Barbra quickly catch onto it and Beetlejuice has to ask why the Maitlands keep calling him “beejeetoh” (they have the white accent)

Lydia shyly explains and he’s the embodiment of the ;w; emoji

SORRY THIS WAS SO LONG I HAD A LOT OF FUN-

[imagine-loki]

The Slutty Webs One Weaves

Title : The Slutty Webs one Weaves

Chapter NO. 8

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki’s Asgardian wife learns women write fanfiction about him on a trip to Midgard. She’s edgy for the duration and lets him have it when they get back.

Author: lokilover9

Rating: M

Pepper returned from the lobby to an edgy Tony. "Was Hannah down there? What took you so long to answer your phone?"

"No and I was talking to someone."

"You stalled to make new friends? I worried you were dragging said witch up here in a headlock."

"Wrong. Is Loki still consoling Brianna?"

"Yes."

Pepper dropped a mini bomb and Tony disconcertedly sighed. "He isn't going to like this." The couple appeared at the guest room door. "Hey, Little Warrior. Feeling any better?"

She nodded.

"Badass and I wondered if you'd stick around. Maybe Daddikins can conjure Mario Kart? I miss you kicking my tushy."

Virginia's nervous smile had Loki encouraging it and once Tony had Brianna distracted, they slipped out of sight. She conveyed returning to the Tea shop, claimed Hannah resembled an old friend and asked which direction she'd gone in. The cashier said she did a double take at something in the lobby, appeared as though seeing a ghost and dashed towards the hotel exit without her purchases.

Loki's face became a storm of tumultuous emotions and she startled when a snap of his fingers conjured a book.

"Should I have said nothing?"

He cynically chuckled, scanning the title pages. "Ever thought your God in heaven found amusement in bombarding your life with fuckery, like the Norn's do mine? The arm of his celestial robe hanging high while he mockingly inspires you with a goblet of mead? 'Rise up, Homes. I'm off for a shag with Mary.'"

"All Midgardians have."

"Have all dragged their only friends into Alice's fucking wonderland where the big bad wolf keeps hounding at the door? Excuse me, I'm intertwining fairy tales."

"Probably half. Are you okay?"

"Right as rain, girlfriend. Right, found it. I haven't used this spell on a child and need the right measurement of ingredients."

She nervously stumbled over a pair of small shoes. "A 'spell???'"

"To make Brianna sleep. Shhh. I must concentrate."

She watched, dazzled, as tiny bottles appeared mid air and part of their contents emptied into his cupped palm. Moving it in a circular motion, they combined like fluid sand, glowed a soft white, then faded into transparent flakes as the book and bottles vanished.

"Calmly return to the main room with me?"

They did just as Tony blundered a turn at Mario. "I'ma gonna givva you such a smacka, you cartoon pisano."

When Brianna laughed, Loki waved his hand before her face from behind. "Forgive me, Min Lille."

"D..dad…"

Tony caught her. "What's up with the magically induced coma?"

"She's better off." Said Loki, sharper than intended.

Stark situated Little Warrior while he paced, grinding a fist into his palm. There hadn't been time to process any definitive plans to apprehend Brianna's captors and discovering the fourth incited a rage only her reciprocated love had contained. Now, his nerves were stretched to their limits, forcing him to convey more than he wanted, risk finally reaching out for help and configure one. Fast.

"Scotch, Snowflake?"

He sighed heavily and stopped. "I must keep a clear head and so should you. The secrecy and lies, the hiding, everything I've done has been to protect Brianna and yourselves since the instant she graced my life. If I'm to continue, we need to trust each other completely. No matter how disturbing my information, you will make no inquiries, tell no one and from here forth, do 'exactly' as I say. Should you veer off course, we leave for real and you'll be fighting a dangerous battle alone. You may regardless if I can't contain Thor's rage over this."

"A battle with who?"

"This will hit home, Tony. Give me your word."

"It's yours, Pepper's too, right?" She nodded. "For insurance, she can text you a pic of me in a chastity belt. Hell, send it to Jimmy Kimmel. Are we good?"

"I'd rather you signed a wager to become a goat. How much longer is your suite booked for?"

"Another ten days."

"Virginia, pack for a week please? I need your help with Brianna at a safe house. Tony, contact your pilot. You're going home."

"Alex is in Aruba celebrating his girlfriend's breast implants. 'Why' Loki?"

"Fuck." He muttered. "Because I'm certain Fury's involved in Brianna's existence and you 'don't' want him up your shit when you aren't there. He was fucking Hannah and six and half years ago, introduced her and Jillian to Viriginia at his fiftieth birthday bash."

Tony slid both hands down his face. "I..shit..whoa. How do you know that and who's Jillian?"

Pepper frantically retraced her memory. "Jillian...was she the petite brunette with doe like eyes?"

"Congratulations." Loki replied. "You've also met Brianna's Mother. It's all in her diary."

"WHAT?!?" Said the couple, shocked.

"Save your questions! If Brianna's the reason Hannah bailed, by now the evil foursome knows she's escaped and you're aware she exists. Were I Fury, I'd be gathering my accomplices for interrogation, initiating a low key search for the four of us and putting eyes on the Tower 'and' Thor, where he'll find Astrid. Please, 'help me.'"

"Okay, okay. Can you teleport me back?" Asked Stark.

"No. Fury knows I have that ability. If S.H.I.E.L.D's watching and never see you enter…"

"What the fuck? You think they're involved too?"

"Oh my god." Said Pepper.

Loki tuned them out and conjured a bag of burner phones. "Book a seat on the next flight out in any class. Delete our past conversations and cease using your phones to contact me. If Brianna awakens, have her call me on one of these. I'll be back before dawn."

"You're leaving???"

"Yes. To relocate Astrid and warn Thor. Wish me luck he doesn't break New Mexico."

Loki vanished into a portal leaving the couple aghast.

"Well Butch, we're up to our eyeballs in another shit storm. I should've ignored the flu and gone with you that night."

She cracked a tiny smile. "Before or after you fell asleep next to the toilet?"

Tony nodded, observing Brianna in her slumber. "And dreamt Buzz Lightyear brought me our duvet."

"High fevers induce hallucinations. That was me in a white pants suit."

"You sure sounded like 'Tim The Toolman Taylor.'

He was doing it again. Comedically rambling off topic to cushion the blow of a truth that rubbed him wrong from every angle.

"Tony?" Said Pepper.

"Hm?"

"Promise no veering? I haven't trusted Nick since Steve found those weapons on the Helicarrier."

"None of us Avengers do either. I won't, he's too dangerous. With the ability to fuck us over worse than any accusations of harboring a missing child could. Virginia..this is bad. What more was in that diary?"

"It is, but we have to stay focused. A sleep deprived, frazzled Loki discovering we aren't ready, won't want to talk. I'll get our suitcases."

Tony followed. "Did you bring a warm coat? I'll bet he conjured that safehouse in the Siberian Tundra." ***** Loki first returned to their room to collect his and Brianna's things. Time was crucial, but before seeking Astrid, he needed to tune into her ring. Left on, it steadily recorded her and using a hologram, he rewound to the day he departed Asgard and quickly scanned through the mundane.

He watched her pained reaction to his note, heard hers and Frigga's spiteful words, witnessed their treatment of Thor, heard himself being defended, their following remorse and the lies conjured betwixt Mother and son. Although impressed by Frigga duplicating Astrid's ring, he wasn't in the mood for another presumed 'lecture on morality' and fast forwarded to them parting ways in Asgard.

Night after night, he saw Astrid entering Ingrid's bed chamber and once heard his Mother in law scolding a hidden Roddy from her doorway. "Doth's thou newest mistress prefer perfuming as well? Your stench giveth you away."

He'd have laughed if not for Astrid's tears, but when forwarding to the present, she wasn't sleeping at Thor's. His means of travel would remain portals and high on adrenaline, he arrived to gather her belongings and cringed at the sounds of lovemaking.

"That's it princess. Take your Kings tallywacker like a good girl."

'Norns.' Loki conjured more burner phones, blared the living room's television and Thor came running, cock at full mast. "Brilliant way to greet an intruder, dingus."

"Brother!" Thor exuberantly bellowed on approach.

Loki conjured a dagger. "Hug me naked and tallywacker gets beheaded. Where's Astrid?"

"At the Rosewood."

Loki frowned. "You let my wife, who hops realms on a fucking whim, stay at a hotel???"

Jane came rushing down the stairs in a Betty Boop robe and he arched a brow. "Hi, Loki. It's only for two nights and she offered to give us time alone."

Thor's smile faded. "I didn't hear anything in the guest bedroom. Did you bug our house?"

"Yes, brother. 'I', snagged a side job installing covert surveillance on Midgards superheroes. Spark another spliff and do cover your cock?"

Jane did with a decorative plate from the dining table. "Astrid's room number is 718."

"She won't be returning. Do not leave, answer the door, your calls, or open the blinds. I 'will be' returning, but briefly."

In a flash, he was gone and Jane looked up at Thor. "I can't call in this soon, my vacation just ended."

"Loki wasn't asking, Jane. Something's awry." ***** Astrid had risen early and after seeking ice, dropped the bucket upon discovering Loki in her room. Accustomed to wearing Midgardian attire, her blue jean leggings contoured her shape, highlighted by a white tank beneath a second of mesh knit. Her blond waves cascaded down her breasts and she looked so virginal without makeup, his loins ached.

"Hello, my lovely."

Unsure what Thor had conveyed, she hesitated approaching. "Hi. I would offer you a drink but..." She knelt to gather the cubes and hide a falling tear. "I hav..haven't any liquor."

Loki lovingly gathered her into his arms. "Astrid."

"Forgive me, Min kjærlighet." She sobbed. "I made you run when needing me most."

He kissed her lips and cheeks. "I ran for a multitude of reasons, but have left Brianna sleeping to come for you."

"You knew I was on Midgard?"

"Not until recently and you mustn't be angry with Thor for not conveying so. He stayed silent at my request, even to Jane and was oblivious to our location. You mean the world to me as does Brianna now too, but something's gone wrong and I fear you're both in danger. It would take too long to explain and there's so much I must before you meet."

"Then let's return to Asgard. Wouldn't we be safe there?"

"We can't yet."

She slowly slid from his embrace, confused. "Brianna's in danger, yet isn't with you or Thor. She's with Tony and Pepper isn't she?"

"Yes, my lovely, but you can't be angry with them either. They've been wonderful to her."

"I'm not, I'm sad again. Everyone knew about her before me. What does that say about 'us', Loki? Are we okay?"

He embraced her again. "Yes. Darling, Tony, Pepper and Thor knew of her before I did too and you knew before Jane."

"Really? Wait, Thor lied to myself and your Mother?"

"Astrid, please. He had to, they too might be in danger and Brianna will panic if I'm not there when she awakens. Come with me to a temporary location until everybody's situated?" Loki kissed her hands. "It means being shielded from Heimdall for a while. If not, Thor can..."

She hastily kissed him. "I'm not returning to Asgard without you."

Loki wanted to bed her until she wailed his name so loud, her voice cracked every window in the hotel. "Prepare thyself, my lovely. You're going underground."

While she checked out, Loki ventured to Alberta and created her a lesser version of their bedchambers in Asgard.

Astrid caressed the beds plush duvet of greens and gold. "You replicated everything."

He conjured her luggage. "I wanted you to feel at home."

She smiled. "I'll be okay, Loki. Go."

With a newfound determination, Loki returned to Thor. "I thank the Valhallas you've dressed."

"You've seen me naked before, brother."

Loki addressed Jane. "He was playing nude hide and seek in the backwoods with some maidens, late for another archery lesson. Our father sent me searching. Without appearing rude, may we please have a moment alone?"

She frowned at Thor. "I'll be in the garage inflating my bicycle tires."

Thor waited for the door to close. "You could've said we were teens. How have we been compromised?"

"Clever, brother."

"Are Brianna and Astrid safe?"

Loki nodded.

"Flying human and Virginia?"

"Not if Jane talks."

A loud growl from Thor soon had her running back inside. "Holy shit on a pogo stick!"

He was standing in the living room holding their heavy glass coffee table above his head with Loki in his face. "Throw that and it vanishes before landing."

"Then I'll break something else!"

"This is why I kept information from you! Think rationally, Thor. Your neighbors will post this all over social media. How will that benefit any of us?"

He gently placed it down. "Brother, he..a child?"

"I know, but please let me handle it my way?"

"She's your daughter. I respect that. What do you need from us?" Loki eyed Jane and Thor sighed. "Yes, you can trust her."

When he was done talking, she hurled on the carpet while Thor pondered murdering Fury.

Loki used magic to clean it up. "You have my instructions. No interfering."

"We understand, brother. Go." ***** After leaving the Savoy, Hannah had rushed to the nearest pharmacy and returned to her hotel, spitting sparks. "That lying bitch! Her little brat does have powers!" She checked out, checked into another across town and called her boyfriend. He answered from a plane on it's way to England.

"Hello, pretty lady. Did you enjoy your heart throbs play? Wish I could've come."

Hannah eyed the stolen silk tie Tom had used to bound her wrists the night before and deviously grinned. 'I don't. Hiddleston and I hooked up.' "Tom was amazing." 'With a dick that makes yours look microscopic.' "How was Mrs. Finkelsteins second facelift?"

"Useless, but she's rich. I bought you some new lingerie."

"Did you keep the receipt? I'm breaking up with you."

"Hannah, why? What will I tell my parents?"

"Life doesn't always work out as planned? Don't miss your connecting flight to Sweden. Bye."

She hung up, turned her ringer off and opened a box of black hair dye. "Now that I'm screwed, so are you 'Pepper Potts' and your billionaire boyfriend."

[thelordofdarkreunion]

Magnificent Scoundrels: Lock n’ Load

This one’s for all you people who are really into sci-fi gadgets like I do.  It’s a little on the short side, so sorry for that.  I’ll try and make the next one longer.  Please note that, as always, only the Tongues of Fire characters belong to me.  All others belong to their respective writers and owners.  Now, sit back, relax, enjoy, and try not to die!

Tongues of Fire Galaxy, In the far reaches of system XBH-9974

The starships of the Magnificent Scoundrels arrived perfectly on time to the coordinates Thomas Drake had sent them.  It was a dreary system in the middle of nowhere, with four barren rocks of planets orbiting a small star, and one that looked to be more mud than anything else.  Drake had invited all of the Scoundrels and any of their retinues on board the Apocalypse for the mission briefing.  They met him in the massive cargo bay of the ship; stainless steel walls and massive stacks of rectangular cargo pallets greeted the new arrivals.  Drake himself was nowhere to be seen, and so they mingled, talking, gauging exactly what type of people they would be working with.  Master Chief slid over to Cooper.

“How was the voyage?” he asked.  Copper gave a long sigh.

“It was...long.  And hard.”

“Thaaaaaattttt’s whaaaaat sheeee said!” came Drake’s much too over enthusiastic voice from one of the doorways leading into the cargo bay.  Several snickers came at his words.

“I don’t get it...oh,” muttered someone.  Copper just sighed and looked at Master Chief.

“That’s the type of shit I’ve had to deal with the entire voyage.”  Drake grinned and held out his arms in greeting.  

“Welcome aboard the Apocalypse everyone!  You’re all looking fabulous today.”  He swaggered towards them.  “I’m assuming you’re all wondering why exactly we’re all here in the ass end of nowhere.”  A handful of nods greeted his words.  “Well I’m not a man to make extensive, complicated and loquacious speeches unless I need to, so I’ll put it simply.  On the mudball planet is a group of thieves, pirates, mercenaries, whatever you want to call them.  Point is, they stole something from a client of mine.  We’re here to get it back, and I am here to see just exactly how good you are.”  He grinned.  “SO.  We shall decide the details later.  Right now, time to ah, get equipped.”  He sauntered through the massive space, the rest of the Scoundrels following him, and touched several buttons on a wrist mounted computer.  Massive panels on the walls slid open, and racks upon racks of weaponry and equipment was displayed for all to see.  Drake grinned again.  “While I was finding information about all of your galaxies, I took the liberty of...acquiring, yes, we’ll stick with that, acquiring quite a lot of things.  Guns and gadgets and weapons and cool stuff!  It’s gonna be glorious!”  Most of the Scoundrels stared, open mouthed, at the truly staggering amount of stuff that Drake had just revealed.  The tough-looking man with the purple masked figure in their retinue, who had been identified by Drake’s report as John Shepard, moved over to one of the weapon racks.  

“Is that...a black hole gun?” he asked Drake.

“Yes,” replied Drake with a typical smirk.  Ciaphas Cain looked as if his eyes were about to pop out of his sockets.  He touched a long barreled gun with a long sniper scope on it.

“Please tell me this isn’t an Exitus Rifle,” he half aske, half pleaded to Drake.  

“As a matter of fact, it is.”

“How did you get that?” asked Cain, a note of fear in his voice.

“It's probably best if you didn’t know.”  

“Yeah.  It is most definitely probably better if I didn’t know.”  Adam Vir walked over to a glass case displaying a lithe grey suit on a manikin.

“This...this is Iron Eye armor,” he said with wonder.  He frowned.  “I’m not even going to ask where you got this.”  Drake nodded.

“At least there’s someone with sense in this room.”  Han Solo, ever the pragmatist, spoke up.

“Where did you get all of this?”  Drake beamed.

“You of all people ought to be able to figure it out.”  

“You stole it.”  It wasn’t a question, but a statement.

“Oh no my dear man,” said Drake with a laugh, “I acquired it.”  Jack Cooper sighed.

“I’m surprised you haven’t stolen a Titan yet.”  Drake whirled around to face him.

“What a wonderful idea!  I think I will.  I’ll add it to the list.”  He turned around and gestured to the various gear.  “Now, I know how some of you like your stuff.”  He spun to face Solo.  “You.  Jacket, boots, holster of unknown material but probably some sort of leather, DL-44 blaster.”  He spun around to Vir.  “You.  Spear, Drev metal.  Iron Eye armor, when necessary, but not a lot.  Have an odd tendency to not wear armor and gasmask when out exploring planets and that has led to problems.”  He wheeled away from Vir and slid up to Cooper.  “You.  Pilot’s suit with cloak, good with anything but like the Flatline.  Prefer the new heavier x-shaped Militia visor as opposed to the old IMC one.”  Drake spun on his heel and pointed at Starlord.  “You.  A rather odd sort of helmet that expands from the ear.  Don’t know how it works, but I’ll find out.  Jet boots, Quad blasters, had a Walkman but now a Zune.”  The Scoundrels stared at Drake, mouths gaping like landed fish.  “You.”  Drake pointed at Master Chief  “MJOLNIR armor, MA5D assault rifle, you’re a soldier so you bring grenades...and so on and so on.  Point is, if you use it, if you want it, I've got it.  Take your pick.”  Shepard made some sort of gagging noise.

“Exactly how much do you know about us?”  Drake gave a grin that was more like a predator baring its teeth than an actual smile.

“Everything.  Including that one thing all of you seem to have that you’d rather me not know.” 

Well shit.  

“Really?  You could just be bluffing.  Prove it,” said Kirk.  Drake held out his hand and a nearby Apocalypse crew member held out a data pad.  Drake tapped several buttons, scanned his fingerprint, then, carefully hiding the surface so as no one else could see it, showed Kirk the contents.  Kirk blanched and tugged at his collar.

“Uh, yeah...he’s not bluffing.”  Drake smiled, this time genuinely.  

“Don’t worry though.  I won’t tell anyone your secrets unless you want me to.”  He rubbed his hands together.  “So.  Let’s get to it, shall we?”  He gestured at a large holographic projector in the corner of the room.  Everyone walked over, Drake tapped his wrist mounted computer, and a glowing green projection of what looked like a military base appeared.  Drake gestured at it.  

“This is their base, if you haven’t guessed already.  It was originally an observation outpost for the Federal Military, which is why it’s as formidable as it is, but it was abandoned, well, because it’s smack-dab in the middle of nowhere.  Why they built it in the first place is a mystery.  Anyway, they have about oh, say, 200 to 300 people there.  All of them are armed, and while they don’t have anything too heavy, like, say, anti-aircraft or -tank weapons, they have quite the compilation of small arms.  Nothing we shouldn’t be able to handle.  We can also probably disable their long range sensors, allowing us to land on the planet without detection.  The question is: what do you want to do from there?”  He looked around at the group.  “Oh come now.  Any suggestions?”  

“This is your party, your home galaxy; what do you suggest?” asked Shepard pointedly.  Drake laughed.

“Well, there are usually two ways of retrieving an object of importance from a hostile group: either no bodies for the guards to notice or no guards left to notice the bodies.”  Several of the team looked horrified at this, and Drake gave a bloodthirsty grin.  “Option two is easier as there aren’t any local law enforcement.  In fact, there isn’t anyone of significant authority to apprehend us within anywhere near here.  Hell, we don’t even need to hide our presence.  We have enough firepower to blow them into molten slag; we can retrieve the object afterwards.”  He paused and considered it for a moment.  “Although, if we go with an orbital bombardment we run the risk of destroying the object.”  Vir stared at him in horror.

“An orbital bombardment?  You can’t be serious.”  Shepard and Kirk nodded at this.  Drake scoffed.

“They’re a group of 200 pirates on an uninhabited mudball of a planet.  No one’s gonna care.”  Was Drake testing them?  They looked at each other, and Shepard spoke.  

“No.  We’re going to go in stealthily.  No need to get anyone hurt unnecessarily.  We land undetected, we,” he gestured at himself, Vir and Master Chief, “go in, steal the thing, get out.  You guys are our support.”  He pointed at Drake and Cooper, “You two stay on that side,” he gestured at Cian and Quill, “you two on that side, and you two,” he looked at Solo and Kirk, “are ready to get us out if anything goes wrong.  Any objections?”  Most of the team nodded.  Drake gave them an odd look.

“If that’s how you want to do it.”  This was definitely a test.  “Ok.  If we’re all agreed, then let’s get to it.  Take whatever you want, but tell me or the quartermaster first so I know what you’re taking.  Other than that, I bid you good luck.”  Now then, what to do?  What to choose?  Celeric, the Apocalypse's morose quartermaster, was demonstrating to some of the Scoundrels’ crewmembers the horrifying effects of some glowing green weapons.  Cain and the officers of the Valhallan 597th were all buckling on bulky armored plates and picking up strange rectangular-looking rifles attached to heavy backpacks.  Apparently they knew what they wanted.  Master Chief wore full combat armor all the time, so he didn’t need anything. Solo had already disappeared, and Shepard and Cooper were browsing through gear from their home galaxy.  That left two.  Adam Vir and Peter Quill stared at each other awkwardly, then seemingly decided at the same time to walk over to where Drake was.  

Drake was sitting next to a large rack of ornate black armor.  While not exceptionally detailed, it looked extremely advanced and very expensive.  Drake himself was humming along to some song playing from his wrist computer while fiddling with a sleek triple barreled weapon.  A blueish-purple glow emitted from the center where a magazine would be on a normal weapon, and Drake seemed to be inspecting it for any flaws.  He turned and stopped what he was doing when Vir and Quill approached.  

“Ah!  Can I help you?” he asked politely.  

“What are you doing?” replied Vir in lieu of a response.  Drake chuckled.

“Well, these are mine.  Can’t be going into combat un-prepared, now, can I?”  He indicated the armor and gun.  

“What are they?” bath asked at the same time, then looked at each other, surprised.  

“Modified armor and a modified triple-barreled supercooled assault plasma rifle.  Cost me quite a lot, but worth every penny.  And, of course, this.”  He tapped the portable computer.  “The best in the market, modified, of course, by yours truly.  It can slice into almost any security system and can pull up anything from the Apocalypse's main computer.  And it plays music.”  This got their attention.  

“What kind?”  Drake shrugged.

“Oh, you know, the classics.”

“What do you consider ‘the classics’?” asked Vir.

“You know, the classics.  Uh, Country Roads, 1812 Overture, I’m Sexy and I Know It…”

“One of those does not belong with the others,” muttered Quill.  

“Eh, doesn’t matter.  I know the both of you have quite good taste in music.  Should be interesting.  Talk to Celeric if you have any questions about the stuff.”  Quill wandered off, and Drake took out some sort of screwdriver-like tool and fussed over a panel on the suit of armor.  “Look at this.  Best of the best.  It’s got all the gadgets on it: enhanced strength and support, slot for the wrist computer, thermal vision, the works.  But now...now the possibilities are endless!  Built in flamethrowers, omnitools, cybernetic implants, personal shielding, digital weapons...oh it’s going to be glorious when I’m done with it.”  He turned to Vir, who hadn’t moved.  “Can I help you?”  

“Er...yes, you can, actually.”  Vir fidgeted with his collar and turned a slight shade of red.  “What do you know about me?”  

“You?  Everything.  I already told you that,” replied Drake as he turned back to his work.

“I mean...specifically.”  Drake sighed and turned back towards him.  

“Specifically?  I know of your war record, which is painful, but not that deep of a secret.”  He pursed his lips.  “How shall I phrase this...does the acronym LFIL mean anything to you?”  Vir turned a deeper shade of red.  

“Uh...yes.  Yes, it does.”  Drake nodded.

“Good.  Just so we’re on the same page.  I won’t tell anyone, though.  You can trust me with that.  In fact,” he began to laugh, “In fact...well, I can’t tell you.  But I shall ask.  Worry not, for I shall ask.”  Drake paused and seemed to consider something for a moment, then stood up and put a hand on Vir’s shoulder.  His voice changed from light and breezy to serious and almost fatherly.  “Let me give you a bit of advice.  Do not ever let a servant of the Imperium of Man know.  They will kill you for it.”  He looked past Vir at something in the background and sighed.  “Speaking of bloody which,” he turned and walked towards the Imperials, who were lugging crates emblazoned with the double headed Imperial eagle towards the exit.  “Oi!  You guys are just going to walk away with all my hellguns without telling me?”  And while Drake was arguing with Cain, Adam Vir stood and pondered Drake’s words.

Due to the overwhelming technological superiority of the Scoundrels, the bases’ long and close range scanners were taken down with relative ease, and the assault was to commence.  Drake had placed his own soldiers on board the various ships that would be landing outside the base, as a rather obvious attempt to see how good the rest of the Scoundrels really were.  Shepherd stared in distaste at the sleazy looking man who accompanied them aboard his ship, the Normandy.  Vir and the Chief were in the hold, ready and waiting, and Shepard was to bring them just outside the base.  The rest were to be dropped off or teleported by the Millennium Falcon or the Enterprise.  Shepard turned towards Drake’s armsman, named Nathaniel if he remembered correctly.  

“So, Nathaniel.  Drake seems a bit...off.  Is he really, well, on top of things?”  Nathaniel gave a sleazy smile.

“Here’s the thing.  People don’t follow others because they’re popular or high born.  People follow others because they’re good at what they do.  Don’t matter if they’re nice, or rich, or sane, it matters if they’re competent.  And the Captain?  Well, he’s a little off.  Whether he’s actually nuts or just likes acting like it doesn’t matter.  He’s the best of the best at what he does and I’d follow him into hell.”  Shepard didn’t have time to reply.  

“Commander.  We’ve arrived.”  

Well, that’s it.  Hope you liked it.  If you have any questions, comments, concerns, reviews, advice or criticisms, feel free to ask.  Hope you have a nice day!   

[vannahfanfics]

Keep Me Warm

Category: Romantic Fluff

Fandom: Fairy Tail

Characters: Natsu Dragneel and Lucy Heartfilia

Thump. Thump. Clang! Thump, thump, thump. Crash! “Dammit!”

Lucy groaned loudly as the ambient noises echoing through her small apartment dragged her unwillingly into consciousness. Not quite willing to relinquish the peaceful embrace of sleep, she yanked her comforter over her head and snuggled into her pillow in an attempt to return once more to its arms. Bang! Clatter! With an irritated growl, she flung back over and grabbed her alarm clock, peering in the gloom as her eyes struggled to adjust to its glaring neon numbers. 2:36 in the morning? What the hell is all this noise?! She fumed silently. Lucy had just returned from a rather perilous mission with Natsu- when were they not perilous when he was involved- from the mountains. The exhausting aspect aside, Lucy was fairly certain that she was coming down with a cold from the adventure and was hence trying to sleep as much as possible to stave off falling ill. She crunched her alarm clock in her hand before slamming it back down on her bedside table, her mood soured by the assault on her attempt to stay healthy.

She was still too groggy to recognize that the sounds were coming from within her own home rather than out in the street, so that is why her first instinct was to climb out of bed and march over to her window. She angrily threw it open, recoiling for a moment as the cold, harsh night wind blasted into her room. She was only dressed in a tank top and a pair of short-shorts, and she tried to ignore the icy breeze as it danced over her bare skin with eager fingers while she leaned out of the window to glare down at the cobblestone streets, attempting to find the perpetrator and give them a proper scolding.

“Huh? There’s no one there,” she mumbled and blearily rubbed her eyes. The pale moonlight shining down upon the street revealed nothing but shadows and a skinny cat skulking along the wall that overlooked the bay. In her sleepy delirium, Lucy paused a moment to admire the way the white light scattered across the shifting surface of the ocean, looking like diamonds sparkling in a field of blue flowers. “Pretty…”

Craaaaaash! “Owwwwww, ow, ow, ow, owwww!”

Lucy leaped nearly a foot in the air as the resounding clamor blasted through her apartment, and all traces of sleepiness immediately left her when she came upon the frightening realization that someone was in her house- a clumsy someone, but a someone nonetheless. Too concerned with her own safety to bother with appearances, she snatched her Celestial Keys off her nightstand and opened her bedroom door to peer out suspiciously into the night. Light glowed softly at the end of the hall in the direction of her kitchen, and she could hear hushed voices floating down the hallway, though she could not make out who they were or what they were saying. She held her keys tightly in her hands to keep them from jingling as she crept through the shadows, drawing closer to the intruders apparently raiding her refrigerator. She hid behind the ajar kitchen door to eavesdrop.

“Ooh! Chocolate chips! Whadaya think, buddy?”

“Nah! I want peanut butter.”

“What? Peanut butter sucks! How could you say that?”

“How could you say that? … Why don’t we do both so we’re both happy?”

“Ah! Great idea! You’re a genius, Happy!”

Lucy’s shoulders hunched up to her ears upon realizing just who had snuck into her house in the middle of the night. Of course. I should have known. Of course it would be those two knuckleheads! She thought bitterly as she stepped out from behind the door and into the threshold to gaze upon the disaster they had created. Lucy’s pots and pans had been dragged out of her cabinets, and presumably since they were located on the bottom shelves near the floor, Natsu had bumped his head on the jutting countertop trying to claim them, judging from the goose egg sticking out of his wild pink hair. Similarly they had raided her pantry and fridge for things like flour, sugar, eggs, milk, and the like, all of which were emptied of their contents and scattered across the kitchen, both their containers and the substances themselves. Natsu and Happy had apparently had particular fun making footprints and handprints all over the place with the flour before returning to their task at hand, which Lucy had deemed to be making cookies.

“Wanna tell me what you’re doing in my kitchen at three in the morning?”

As Lucy spoke up from her spot in the doorway, it was the boys’ turn to jump a foot in the air. As Natsu whipped around, spastically stirring a bowl of cookie dough, he grinned sheepishly at her.

“Oh, hey, Lucy. We wanted cookies, but we didn’t have the stuff to make it at home, so we came here~ Ya want some?” A pained groan slipped out of her mouth and she shook her head wearily while she face-palmed. There wasn’t going to be any explaining to them that it was socially improper to break into someone’s house in the middle of the night because they wanted to bake cookies for whatever reason, so she resigned herself to the fact that they were going to be hanging out in her house for the next hour, if not sleeping there because they were going to be too full to go home. When Lucy looked up, Natsu had somehow silently closed the distance between them, and she went bright red at his close proximity. “Hey, aren’t you cold, wearing so little?” He nonchalantly took the spatula out of the mix and licked the cookie dough off of it while staring into her eyes, which just made her flush darker.

“I was sleeping! Gah! Don’t look!” She wailed, having suddenly realized how provocatively she was dressed- more than usual, anyway- and turned around to fold her arms over her bust. It didn’t help that she had left the bedroom window open, and the night air was rapidly spreading through the apartment, making her shiver slightly. I’m cold now, because you mentioned it… Everywhere but her face, at least. She twitched as Natsu leaned over her shoulder.

“Hey, your face is really red. You’re not running a fever, are you? You said something about getting a cold in the mountains, right?” Lucy shook her head emphatically and stepped away from him, blushing further. Normally his lack of personal space didn’t bother her, but perhaps since she was still so tired, her mind just couldn’t process it like it normally could. As she did step to the side, though, Lucy suddenly had the bizarre sensation that she was falling, and her vision blurred before her eyes. What? She thought weakly. Her mind was falling too, into a trancelike state where she couldn’t process anything but the rushing of wind, though she wasn’t sure if that was in her head or in the apartment. Instinctively, her hands groped for something to steady her fall, and one of them found the solid muscle of Natsu’s upper arm. Just grateful to have something to anchor her to reality rather than plummet into the chasm that had formed into her mind, the rest of her body followed suit and she fell against the dragon-slayer. As she came out of the strange spell, she found that she was panting heavily and was shivering. “Hey! Lucy! Are you okay?” Natsu asked her worriedly. He was holding the bowl of cookie dough above his head, because she had nearly knocked it free, but his other arm was wrapped securely around her waist. Lucy could have lied, but she was too tired to.

“No… Natsu… I don’t feel good…” Somehow a switch had flipped in her, and all her energy had dissipated in that very moment. It was hard for her to even stand, she was so weak, and so she just clung to Natsu for support. She was also too tired to care about what a compromising and embarrassing situation she had landed in, and the warmth radiating from his body was oddly comforting. It feels so nice, she thought absently as she pressed her cheek against his chest, her eyes fluttering as she struggled to keep them open. She felt like she could fall asleep right there.

“Lucy! You’re really pale now!” Happy cried while clambering up onto her kitchen table to stand next to Natsu. He put a little blue paw against her forehead, the recoiled with a yelp. “Yowch! Lucy, you’re running a really high fever!”

“Here, Happy, hold this,” Natsu ordered and unceremoniously dropped the bowl onto Happy, who caught it with all his weight by essentially being trapped beneath it. His little limbs and tail flung about as he struggled to get out from beneath it, while Natsu, too concerned with Lucy to notice, put his hand under her chin to tilt her head up and pressed his forehead against hers. Even in her confusion, she did have the wherewithal to blush then, and she had to wonder how much that heat would contribute to the fever. “Mhmm. Lucy, you’re really sick,” Natsu confirmed. As he pulled away, Lucy had to fight the urge to pull him back, because something about that closeness was so important to her right then. That moment was ruined when she abruptly sneezed.

“Aw, Lucy, your sneeze is so cute!” Happy laughed as he popped up from behind the bowl, having finally made his harrowing escape. “Do it again!”

“Happy, I-“ Though she wasn’t, her body was more than willing to acquiesce to his request, and she covered her face as she sneezed again, this time a few times in a row. When her body settled, she was left feeling weaker than before, and her nose and face uncomfortably clogged. “Ugh…”

“All right, all right, enough of that,” Natsu scolded Happy, who flattened his ears to his head with a sheepish grin. “Lucy needs to rest.” I was resting until you so rudely interrupted me, she thought, but she strangely wasn’t so bitter about it. Somehow Natsu being there was comforting. Still, she had to get back into bed, so she begrudgingly pried herself off of him and attempted to walk down the hall back towards her room. That was a spectacular choice on her part that resulted in her flopping roughly against the wall and smacking her head on it so forcefully that a few of the pictures hung there shook.

“Ow…”

“Lucy!” Natsu was at her side in an instant, catching her under her arms as she slumped backwards; it was like he was magnetic, attracting her frail body back to him though she tried to separate herself. “Don’t push yourself.” She was about to utter some stubborn remark and reattempt the endeavor, but her words and her will suddenly vanished as Natsu easily scooped her up into his arms. The heat of embarrassment joined that of the fever in her face, and she hurriedly buried it into his shoulder so that he wouldn’t see, though he would likely assume the redness was a result of her ailment, anyway. She wasn’t sure why she was so flustered, anyway. She had ended up in a lot of compromising situations with him across their adventures, and being carried around like a princess was certainly on the lower end of the scale. So why is my heart beating so fast? Butterflies began to flutter in her stomach in tune with her elevated heartbeat, leaving Lucy in a twisted symphony of anxiety.

“Natsu, you can put me down…” she protested weakly. Natsu, of course, adamantly shook his head while marching down the hallway. With a resigned sigh, she just curled up in his arms, admittedly lulled by that ever-present fiery heat of his and the rhythm of his heartbeat. It wasn’t beating wildly like Lucy’s, but soft and slow, strangely meshing with her own frantic melody. “I’m sorry…”

“What’re you apologizing for? I’m the one who broke into your house and made you wake up while you were sick.” So he admits it, she thought wryly. He nudged her bedroom door open with his toe and carried her into the room, then shifted her so he could support her with one arm while he threw back the bedsheets. Lucy found that positively breathtaking for some reason, that he could hold her with one arm like that so effortlessly, but that thought soon passed into embarrassment. Ugh, what’s wrong with me? Natsu can beat up dragons; of course he can hold me in one arm. Half the guys at the guild could! But the fact that Natsu could and Natsu was made the fire on her cheeks burn all the brighter.

“I don’t know. I’m not used to being catered to like this, I guess,” she sighed as he gently set her down on the bed. She looked up at him bashfully- if she had been cute, her body ruined it with an ugly, congested sniffle- and squirmed slightly on the mattress in quiet discomfort. Natsu was her friend, so of course he would want to take care of her while she was sick. She just didn’t know why the whole situation was driving her so crazy. It’s just Natsu! Normal, everyday, brave, strong, handsome Natsu… Wait. She put her hands on her face, trying to hide the expression of acute mortification on her face, but Natsu just thought she was trying to warm her face up.

“Here, Lucy, lemme do it.” She squeaked in alarm as he pried her fingers away from her face and squatted down to lay the backs of his hands against her cheeks. It did feel crazy good; as the warmth chased away the ice in her skin, she slumped slightly in relief. Her face shone with a thin sheen of sweat, but if he was bothered by it, he didn’t show it. He just stared into Lucy’s face with this oddly serious expression, his eyes searching hers for something, and though she didn’t know what he was looking for she didn’t want him to find what was hidden in the depths of those pools, and she dropped her gaze, unable to continue to meet his. Not to mention the gloom and moonlight were playing all kinds of tricks on her eyes, casting his fluffy hair in silver in such a way that she wanted to run her fingers through it, defining his muscles more sharply to where she could hardly look away, and his face- “Lucy, it’s okay. I don’t mind taking care of you at all!” She betrayed herself by looking up at him, and he was the same as ever, giving her a big, cheeky smile, the one that made his eyes scrunch up. Whatever had been there before had disappeared. It’s just my Natsu…

When had “just Natsu” become “her Natsu”? It was too much for her to think about right then, so she abandoned herself to whatever had come over her and sank into the comfort that Natsu was.

“Okay… I guess it’s a good thing you broke into my house,” she chuckled weakly before falling back against the pillow. As he pulled the blanket back over her, she was reminded of how chilly she was, and as she shivered violently, she tried to cocoon herself in the sheet and comforter. As Natsu walked over to the window to close it, she stared at his back, a question hanging on her tongue. It jumped out before she could even decide whether she should ask it or not. “You’ll stay with me all night, right?”

“Of course!” That was her Natsu, without a second thought. His scarf fluttered as he whirled about and trotted over to sit on the edge of her bed, cross-legged and framed by the white moonlight. “I’m not leaving until you’re better.” Lucy’s heart swelled, with happiness and something else too, something she couldn’t identify- or was afraid of identifying. Not caring anymore about the riddle that was happening in her head, and desperate to chase away the chill that was seeping into her bones, she scooched a little closer to him in the hopes of basking herself in his warmth. She was shaking so hard now that the bed trembled along with her, and her teeth were slightly clattering together. I’m so cold… She squeezed her eyes shut as she buried herself further in the blankets, trying to conserve what little warmth she had. She knew she must have felt hot on the surface, because sweat was pouring off her so profusely that it puddled around her hair on the pillow, but it was like the drops of moisture were stealing all her heat. She felt Natsu get up, and go rifling around in her hallway closet for a few minutes, before she heard his soft footsteps coming back in and felt him draping another thick blanket over her. “Better?”

She wanted it to be, but no matter how many layers of blankets there were, it didn’t stop the warmth from leaking out of her body. It felt like she was freezing to death. The tremors wracking her body had actually increased in ferocity, and she couldn’t speak because her teeth were clattering together so hard, she thought they might break, and her breath was shaking, too. She slipped back into delirium again, this time her mind a slave to the cold. It felt like her brain was freezing, too, crystallized on one thought. Natsu… I want Natsu… Natsu’s warmth… Despite her shivering she managed to slip an arm out of her fluffy cocoon and groped around in the dark for him, though she couldn’t see him. Even her vision was filled with snowflakes, dancing in the dark and clouding her eyes like a blizzard. Suddenly she became overwhelmingly terrified that he had left.

“N-N-nat-s-su… Wh-where a-a-are y-y-you?” The words were next to impossible to get out, but she was desperate for him, her Natsu, who was always there when she needed him. Even if she wanted to think about how she felt about him then, she couldn’t, as her mind fell deeper into the icy hurricane. Natsu…!

“I’m here, Lucy.”

At once, the blizzard ceased, and Lucy felt the soothing sensation of warmth flooding back into her body. She gasped slightly as she felt something soft slipping around her neck, wqamring her further. She raised her hand to slip her rapidly thawing fingers into the fabric; it felt odd, woven of scales but yet undeniably soft and comforting. Natsu’s scarf… It was quite too big for her, and was wrapped several times around her neck and covering her mouth. It smelled like Natsu, too, and as his scent wafted up her nose she felt all kinds of things, comfort and embarrassment and happiness and all things between. She felt tears forming in the corners of her eyes, so overwhelmed that he would give her his most prized and precious possession, even if only temporarily. Her eyes fluttered open, a gratuitous remark on her tongue, but it jumped back down her throat when she realized that Natsu had crawled into the bed and was currently holding her tightly within his arms. “Natsu…”

“You did this for me once, didn’t you?” That’s right, she had, during the decisive battle with Zeref. Natsu had been so deathly cold, and she had been so frightened that he would die. Her cheeks flushed as he smiled brightly down at her. “I figured the least I could do was return the favor. Are you better now, Lucy?” Lucy was mildly distraught to be in such a situation, wrapped up in Natsu’s embrace, but he was viewing the entire thing in that innocent way of his, and besides, she sure as hell wasn’t going to go back to freezing like that.

“Mhmm. Thank you,” she sighed quietly and, admittedly wishing for more of his body heat to warm her, pressed herself a little closer to him and laid her head in the crook of his neck. Perhaps she imagined it, but she felt like Natsu stiffened up a little then. She felt his hand twitch, and then slowly slide his fingers to the back of her head to gently caress the tangled, blonde tresses. Silence descended, and the soft rhythm of Natsu’s breathing and the gentle comfort of his warmth and the repeated touch of his fingertips through her hair soon lulled Lucy back into a drowsy state. As her eyelids were drooping and her consciousness once more fading, he spoke up.

“Hey, Lucy?”

“Hmm?” He squirmed uncomfortably, and once Lucy realized that he seemed to be struggling with what he was going to say, she propped herself up so that she could look down at him. It was hard to tell with the way the moonlight was spilling across his face, but she thought she could see a pink haze across his cheeks; he was avoiding eye contact, too, looking off to the side with an uncomfortable curl to his mouth. “Natsu?” Her eyes widened as his arm tightened around her.

“Can I… hold you like this… even when you aren’t sick?” The question threw Lucy for a loop, and all she could do was stare dumbly down at him with her mouth hanging open. No, it couldn’t possibly be. Natsu? No, their relationship wasn’t like that… But yet, she thought of him as her Natsu, so really, was it so impossible that he thought of her as his Lucy? She tensed when his gaze flicked back to meet hers finally, and Lucy saw a fire burning there, but it wasn’t like the fire he normally had. It was soft, smoldering, and yet held more intensity than the burning flames that appeared in his highly emotional, battle-ready state. The flames jumped up as his hand untangled from her hair and slipped down to cup her cheek. “Heh… Your face is warm now,” he joked quietly, but he didn’t lose that oddly intense expression that was making Lucy’s heart beat like a war drum. Locked in his gaze, prisoner to that burning fire, possibly insane from her present illness, Lucy realized the undeniable truth then.

She loved Natsu.

Natsu loved her.

She found her words.

“Yes, Natsu.” They came out a whisper, shy but not hesitant. He finally smiled, that crooked, boyish smile that she loved so much. When he pulled her against him, like he wanted every inch of them to touch, she found that this time his heart was beating in a wild melody, too. His hand slid to the back of her head against, holding her gently as his eyes searched her face for a moment. This time Lucy was not afraid of what he might find.

“I love you, Lucy.”

“I love you too, Natsu,” she answered, and the sheer joy that filled her when she uttered those words was unlike anything she had ever felt. It was like she had been holding it in, desperately building a wall to contain feelings she was afraid of having, and now they had broken free to spill freely through her. Natsu smiled brightly at her again, and then he leaned forward to gently kiss her, softly but with an incredible amount of feeling. Once again Lucy felt warmth burst inside of her, this time from the unmistakable fire of love burning deep inside her heart and soul.

She was his Lucy and he was her Natsu, and nothing could ever come between them.

Except Happy, apparently.

“The cookies are doooooone~!” They sprang apart as the little cat hopped up onto the bed precariously balancing a tray of freshly baked cookies over his head. He wobbled back and forth as he tottered over the thick comforters to plop down on Lucy’s side, his little tail waving in glee. “Oh, Lucy! You look so much better! Want a cookie?” he asked and set the tray down to pick one up in his little paw and hold it out to her. Lucy couldn’t be mad, and was actually grateful he seemed oblivious to how intimate she and Natsu were just being, so she took the cookie with a small laugh.

“Thanks, Happy.” She took a bite of the cookie, then nearly choked on it when the cat inquired why they were in bed together.

“I was warming her up, Happy! Just like that time she did me, remember?” Natsu grinned and hugged her tightly, rubbing his cheek against hers. Lucy was too busy on the border of fainting from sheer mortification to pay much notice.

“Oh! I see! I wanna warm Lucy up too!” Happy laughed and plopped the cookies on the nightstand before forcing Lucy to lay back against the pillow and curling up against Lucy’s neck. “Is it working?” Red-faced, Lucy sighed deeply but reached up to pat his head affectionately.

“Yes, thank you, Happy.” The winged cat gave a joyful trill before snuggling deeper into his bed, which now consisted of Lucy’s hair. It took him all of a minute to begin snoring. Little furball, she thought, but with no shortage of affection. She looked down when she felt Natsu bury his face into her other shoulder, his mess of pink hair lost among her own blonde strands. “Hey!”

“What? If he gets to do it, why don’t I? By the way, you smell good. What kind of shampoo is this?” Lucy groaned loudly, but allowed it. She smiled as she felt Natsu smiling against her neck, and his arms wound themselves tightly around her middle; how could she not be happy, with the way things had developed? Natsu mumbled some form of “goodnight” before he drifted off too, and every soft breeze of his breath against her neck sent little tingles across her skin. Warmed from head to toe, embraced by the man she loved, and elated to even have little Happy peacefully curled up beside her head, Lucy closed her eyes with a tranquil and relieved smile.

Like this… You could keep me warm forever, you know.

“Goodnight… my Natsu.”

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

[karui-kyofu]

Mobile Friendly BNHA Verse Muse Info

Under read more because it’s long.

GENERAL INFORMATION

Full Name: Kurai Amayo

Hero Name: Underworld

Age: 15-16

Gender: Male

Orientation: Pansexual

Species: Human

Occupation: Student

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

Hair: Silvery almost white, worn kind of messy, and usually a bit unkept but somehow it still USUALLY looks good.

Eyes: Pure gold in color, sometimes seem to have catlike pupils but other times it seems to have been a trick of the light.

Complexion: Pale as hell. Constant dark circles under his eyes.

Height: 5’9

Weight: 130 lbs

Build: Slender, almost seeming overly skinny, but he’s healthy enough.

Scars: Several. Too many to really specify where. 

Piercings: Double ear piercings (the lobe) (I ignore the one for his faceclaim that has his neck pierced too. Kurai just has his ears pierced.)

Face claim(s): Kadoc Lemlupus

BACKGROUND

Ethnicity: Japanese

Parents: Currently Unnamed parents, both villains (Open to fleshing out some info about them though if needed)

Siblings: Unnamed, two, a brother and sister (also both villains, or eventually will become them).

Pets: Fish

Education: UA Academy

Languages: Japanese, English

Abilities: Nightfall (vampiric + light manipulation) One from each parent; It’s not exactly a void, but he can essentially make an entire area around him within a certain range so completely dark that no light can pierce through it. It also somewhat muffles sound, since it’s one of those tangible yet intangible sorts of blackness. It’s heavy, and thick, but can’t be touched or cut, or dissipated (though if he is killed or knocked unconscious it vanishes).

The second half of his ability (or more accurately his second quirk, from the other parent) is more straightforward, giving him vampiric like physical boosts (some increased strength, speed). Permanently boosted because of his quirk (even when speed and strength are not): Sight and hearing (to a small degree).

Summarized Personality Traits: Shy and awkward but friendly, somewhat low self esteem, difficulty trusting others but wants to, constantly afraid people will shun him for his parentage. Seems antisocial, but really is just not the greatest with people. Likely keeps to himself mostly, or hangs around near people but never WITH them unless invited.

Other Important details to note: Most people have probably never seen his face properly because of his light sensitivity issues, and the fact he wears hoodies and sweatshirts with a special sheer face covering to minimize light. He does take it off sometimes though, and will reveal his face if asked to.

Also it's not due to his quirk, more his personality (he is often almost deathly quiet) and just kind of a natural thing from a number of factors, but he has kind of a diminished presence and tends to not be noticed unless he speaks. Some more observant people though will likely be more aware he is there. But it's part of the reason why he sometimes seems to suddenly appear out of thin air. He was probably already there, people just didn't realize it.

More detailed background information (and in depth personality and quirk info):

Kurai was born as the child of two villains (not giving them names currently, and they’re not meant to be any currently known villains). Neither were very important, but despite his parents alignment, Kurai never really took to the whole villain sort of lifestyle (he’s far too big of a softie), and eventually he ran away, and ended up applying to U.A., and managed to get in.

He does have difficulties still in this verse with being in bright places due to his upbringing (he was raised in mostly dark places), and almost always hides himself in a dark coat or hoodie, his favorite and most common ones having a sort of sheer black mesh covering the face to help with his light sensitivity, so most people have never seen his face properly without it being hidden in shadows. He’s not the greatest with people, tending to shy away from them. He’s also very skittish about being touched, and tends to keep to himself. He’s pretty convinced that if people find out his parents are both villains, that he will be shunned, and so he keeps it to himself. The school is aware though of his parentage and he had to go through extra steps to prove he wasn’t a villain himself before he was allowed to properly apply. 

Appearance wise, he’s actually decently attractive, if a bit disheveled, apart from the constant dark circles under his eyes. Messy, rarely brushed silvery colored hair, and vividly golden eyes, his pupils sometimes seeming almost catlike, though it might be a trick of the light, or a manifestation of his quirk. He’s also got a little bit of an unusual slight point to his ears, and they sort of stick out weirdly, almost like a little elf.

His room is kept nice and dark, and all his lightbulbs have been replaced with blacklight bulbs, which are some of the only lights he can tolerate consistently, so his room has a rather eerie glow. Most of his belongings have some sort of glow factor to them (lighting under his bed, one of those blacklight glow fish tanks, lava lamps, etc), because he just really likes that sort of glowing, blacklit look. It’s also soft lighting so it’s something his eyes can tolerate.

Kurai has some unique quirks in the sense he got one quirk from one parent, but he also got a second one that sort of mutated from his other parent, so it’s not quite the same as theirs. Somewhat vampiric abilities associated with his tasting blood (rarely used because he hates it, but it boosts his strength and speed some), any kind of blood, and any amount, even a drop, for a short time. But more commonly, he has an ability having to do with light manipulation, causing the area around him to be engulfed in total darkness, as if his opponent has been transported into a void. Which is true in a sense, as some aspect of his ability seems to muffle sound as well, covering his movements when he’s in battle. If he uses both of his quirks, he can be a formidable opponent, but he’ll never be as powerful as some of the other heroes out there. His night vision is amazing, though his daytime vision a bit less so, unless he has one of his special hoodies on. His vision in general is a little sharper than most, and his hearing is also enhanced a little, courtesy of his quirk, but both are only slightly better than the average person, and not anything significant. 

As for downsides to his quirks, his vampiric abilities tend to torture him more emotionally rather than having a physical downfall, though he can sometimes get tired and lethargic after his ability fades. His light manipulation ability has a currently limited range, as he’s still learning fully how to control and expand it, but currently he can basically black out an area around him within about 40 feet if he pushes himself. His void type ability also can be bested by someone who is able to sense body heat or movement by means other than sight or hearing. 

As far as his actual personality, he’s actually really friendly if someone makes the effort to get past his fearful, antisocial seeming exterior. He actually really wants to be included in things, but he’s just really not sure how to go about it. He doesn’t see himself as someone that others would want to be friends with, because he grew up surrounded by villains who treated everyone like they were replaceable and everyone only cared about themselves. He’s almost far too nice for his own good, and he definitely has to work on his confidence in both himself and his abilities. He cares a great deal about those around him, but he won’t say anything most of the time unless presented with a situation he feels he has to. It most likely will take a little effort to get him to open up to others, and a little bit of persistence. If he does speak, he tends to speak softly, unless startled or frightened, and when afraid of something, his instinct is to hide in the closest dark little safe space he can find (such as under a table or beneath a bed). He absolutely hates bullying though, and when he feels confident enough, he will speak up, despite his fear of others, and stand up for people if he catches someone bullying another student.

He is slightly mentally unstable, hearing whispers sometimes in his ears, about how he isn’t good enough, how he should just give up, quit, how no one likes him, no one could ever like him, and other things like that. This is another side effect of his upbringing, his softhearted nature being a detriment to surviving such a childhood without some damage being left on him. He also rarely sleeps more than a few hours at a time, which is partly why he always looks so tired and why he’s always got those dark circles under his eyes.

He secretly would sneak out and do nice things for people when he was a child, even though he was punished and made fun of for it by those in his parents circle. The fact he couldn’t help himself from doing things like that, or from protecting animals or just doing little helpful things, was one of the signs he was not meant to be a villain. 

He has two siblings, both older than him. After he ran away, his parents basically pretended like he didn’t exist anymore, because he disappointed them by being too soft and kind, and because he refused to use his abilities for villainous acts.

(I have finally figured out what his hero costume looks like. Feel free to ask me, and I’ll send some pictures.)

(This verse is still new and tentative so more info will be added as I interact with him with people.)

[cilldaracailin]

A Kind Of Magic

Here is the next part. I think this is one of my favourite parts of this story. :) Thanks again for all the love :)

13

“Sometimes, the best way to help someone is just to be near them.”

It was easy for Taron to slide out of the bed and not disturb Robyn as she slept. He carefully loosened his grip on her hand and slipped out from under the duvet. He woke up and needed to use the bathroom, but seeing Robyn so peaceful as she lay beside him sleeping, he did not want to jostle the bed too much and wake her but as his need to empty his bladder persisted, he had to move. The only thing that connected them was their hands, Robyn’s head now buried into the bottom of one of the two pillows he had been using. She had moved so she wasn’t resting her head on his shoulder but her hand remained in his as she slept.

Another reason why he needed to move from under the duvet was that he was absolutely sweltering. As he stood in the heat of the bedroom, he realised that it was a combination of factors as to why he was roasting. They had forgotten to turn the air conditioning on in the bedroom and with day time temperatures hitting the high twenties, the night time temperature must have been at least been in the low twenties and he could definitely notice the difference in the bedroom when there was no fresh air circulating. Although the doors to the bedroom had been open all day and the blackout curtains kept the room dark, it was still boiling in Robyn’s room. He also remembered that Robyn said he was slightly sunburnt which would also explain why his body felt like it was burning. He pulled his shirt away from his damp skin and looked to Robyn who was snuggled deeply into the covers, wondering how on earth she slept in the heat of the room.

He quietly made his way into the bathroom and after using the toilet, he splashed some cold water onto his face. He went back into the bedroom and around to the locker nearest the windows and picked up the white controller to the air conditioning and turned it on full blast, sighing as wonderful cool air started to blow into the hot room, ever so thankful for Robyn and her luxury items. However, he was still uncomfortably and almost painfully hot and opening the buttons of his shirt, pulled it off throwing it in the direction of his duffle on the floor near the closet door.

He froze as Robyn started to moan in her sleep, her whole body turning so she now lay on her back instead of her right side, the duvet moving with her, her right arm thrown above her head. Taron could see that some of her hair was slightly sticking her forehead so knew even though she was asleep, the heat in the room was unpleasant for her too, the same sheen on her skin as he had on his, although he actually felt like he was sweating buckets, rather than the glow that Robyn had from being wrapped up in the bed clothes. She moved again in her sleep, mumbling and Taron took a glance to the alarm clock that was on her locker. It read two forty-seven in muted green numbers. It was the longest Robyn had peacefully slept since he had arrived.

“Hmm Taron no.”

Taron’s heart fell to the floor as he heard those all too familiar upsetting words coming from her as she started to toss in the bed, the arm above her head going to her rest on her stomach now. He climbed up onto the bed and carefully crawled towards her, stopping as she stirred again. He then lay on his left side beside her, his head in his left hand as his elbow balanced on the pillow she was laying on. Using his right hand, her brushed her hair from her face, feeling that her skin was warm, just not as warm as his. Robyn moved again and he softly cupped her left cheek with her hand.

“Shh Robyn.” He did not want her to wake in distress from another nightmare, so he rubbed her cheek, hoping his slight movement soothed her. “Shh, just sleep.” He felt her turn her face into his touch and continued to tentatively stoke her cheek, running a gentle finger down her temple. “Just sleep.” He heard her sigh in her sleep and she nestled down into the bed, her whole-body relaxing, making Taron smile. He caressed her face again, taking the chance to place a light feathered movement down her nose and back up before moving down the side of her face, feeling extremely relieved that she had fallen back into a contented sleep.

Taron let go of the breath he had been holding and was so pleased that he had been able to appease Robyn in her sleep but he wasn’t entirely happy that she was cocooned so tightly in the duvet. Although the air conditioning was doing its job, Robyn’s duvet was heavy and warm and probably perfect for cold winter nights for snuggling under but right now it looked like it was weighing Robyn down. He crept back down the bed and grabbing a hold of the end of the duvet cover, slowly drew it down so Robyn wasn’t fully covered in the blue material but rather just her legs, so they wouldn’t get cold as the room cooled down.

He knew she was sleeping deeply when she didn’t even move as he tugged the duvet down and once he was happy that she wasn’t going to overheat, he walked back to the locker and using the air conditioning controller, turned the breezy air down to the lowest setting. Taron was very pleased to see that Robyn was getting the sleep she desperately needed and as she shifted again, her arm moving to rest lower on her stomach, Taron was certain she was going to finally wake up feeling refreshed and nightmare free.

Feeling tired and a little sore from moving so much around the room, Taron lay back down on the bed, on his back, his own legs on top of the duvet not bothering to put his shirt back on. He was still sweltering even with the fresh cool air and if he was to get some sort of restful sleep, he didn’t want to be smothered with heat. He nestled into the pillows behind his head, enjoying the draft that swirled over his heated body, resting his hands on his stomach. Closing his eyes, he inhaled the crisp air, effortlessly slipping back into a heavenly sleep.

~*~*~*~*~*~

She felt cool yet warm at the same time and it was that perfect combination that made her snuggle further into the soft sheets under her head. She allowed her body to slowly wake up naturally, not bothering to open her eyes but the stretch she was made was inevitable, a long satisfied sigh leaving her lips. After she stretched, the palm of her hands went automatically to rub her eyes, another content sigh quickly following her first.

“Good morning.” Robyn opened her eyes and looked up to see Taron sitting low beside her, braced against two pillows. His head snuggled deep into the last one with his chin close to his chest, wearing his glasses, a book in his hands. “Do you think we could bake some apple muffins?” He asked. “Though this millionaires shortbread sounds delicious too.”

“Taron?” Asked Robyn confused. “What… I… What?”

“You slept.” He said simply, looking down to her. “A full nights sleep. A whole ten hours. That is thirty minutes more than me.”

Robyn rubbed her eyes again. “Wait what?”

“You slept. A proper full night’s sleep without any nightmares.” Explained Taron. “But seriously can we bake this?” Taron turned the book around to show Robyn the picture of a large chocolate cake. “This looks amazing. We could bake it and bring it with us when we go and have dinner with your parents.”

“I slept?”

“Uh-huh.” Answered Taron as he flicked over to the next page in the baking book he was reading. He had woken up half an hour ago, and seeing that Robyn was still fast asleep, he instantly felt relieved for her. She finally had the sleep she deserved, free of nightmares and horrendous dreams. She had moved back to her side and was curled up in a cute little ball, her head now laying on the bed itself rather than the pillow. He didn’t want to wake her, but he also didn’t want her to wake alone and get worried when he wasn’t there beside her, knowing she was becoming very protective of him so he took a little roam through her apartment and to her bookshelf under the fish tank and pulled out a baking cookbook that looked very much used and weathered, bringing it back to the bedroom to read. He opened the curtains a little to let some natural light in so he wouldn’t have to turn on the main light in the room and it took him a good three minutes to find his glasses in his bag but once discovered, he found a comfortable resting position beside her and had studied cookies, tray bakes and bread before Robyn started to stir and wake. “The whole night through.” He added.

“I slept?” She questioned again.

“Yep.” Taron flipped the next page in the book. “Oh no, this one. Let make this!” He went to turn the book towards Robyn again so he could show her the recipe for the red velvet cake but he quickly pulled the book back to him as Robyn stood up and literally started to jump up and down on the bed.

“I slept! The whole night!” She shouted excitedly as she kept jumping up and down, the movement making Taron’s own body bounce a little as he sat watching. “Yes yes yes!”

Taron started to laugh, his giggle coming from deep inside as he watched Robyn celebrate that she had had a nightmare free sleep. It was one of the cutest things he had seen and loved how she childishly hopped up and down, grinning from ear to ear.

“Oh shit.” Robyn stopped suddenly. “Shit Taron sorry. Jumping is not the ideal motion you need to feel right now.”

“It’s ok. In fact, if I knew I could do it, I would jump with you.” He smiled. “Come and sit.” He patted the bed beside him.

She did as he asked, sitting up straight beside him, Taron lower than she was as he half lay half sat cushioned by pillows and the duvet under him.  “I like you in glasses too.”

“Why thank you.” He chuckled. “Even with the sleep, my eyes still feel tired.”

“Ugh.” Robyn let her head fall backward against the soft blue velvet headboard.

“Good ugh or bag ugh?”

“Very good ugh. Jesus Taron, I haven’t slept a full ten hours in a long time.” She looked down to him again, adding the picture of Taron in his glasses to her ever-growing album. “Please tell me you slept.”

“Yes I did. I woke once but went right back to sleep. I don’t know how you sleep so soundly in these temperatures. When I woke last night, I was sweating with the heat.”

“Oh, we forgot to put the air con on.”

“Yes, we did but yet you were still snuggled tight in the duvet.”

“I do like to be cosy.”

Taron took his glasses off and titled his head back so he could look at her above him. “I do too but it was like an oven in here when I woke. I put the air con for us and pulled the duvet a little off you so you wouldn’t over heat. As you can see, I was absolutely sweltering, I slept on top of the duvet. Had to pull my shirt off too.” Robyn had noticed but hadn’t said anything. “We could have been in the Caribbean if I didn’t know any better.”

“I don’t mind the heat even at night and I have to be covered with something, even a sheet.”

Taron shook his head. “Crazy. If I haven’t told you already, your air conditioning is fucking heaven.”

Robyn laughed as she pulled the book from him that rested on his chest. “You raided my book shelf and this is what you took to read?”

“It’s a book about baking yummy things. What’s not to love.”

“True. It’s one of favourites and you are probably feeling warmer because your body is working a little extra hard to heal itself.” She flicked through the book. “My favourite. Chocolate salted caramel tart.”

Taron took the book back. “Yes. This one.” He put his glasses back on so he could read it but stopped when he felt Robyn kiss his head.

“Thanks Taron. I know my sleeping the night through had something to do with you.”

He looked up to her again. “You might have stirred a bit when I was trying to cool myself down last night, mumbled my name.” He watched her close her eyes. “But with a little bit of soothing you went right back to sleep. I was glad to help. You desperately needed a good night’s sleep.” He turned his attention back to the book in his hands. “And too be fair, I think it was my turn to repay the favour. I finally got to watch you sleep.”

Robyn chuckled. She felt rested and awake and her eyes didn’t sting with tiredness as they had done over the past week and best of all, she didn’t dream that the man currently laying lazily in her bed had died and out of pure relief she found herself giving Taron’s hair another kiss, enjoying how his body position oozed bliss and happiness as he read her favourite baking book. They lay in silence for a few minutes, Robyn watching with interest to see what recipes Taron stopped to read, enjoying how his facial expressions changed as he found one he liked. Without realising that she was doing it, Robyn stopped as she caught herself running the fingers of her right hand through Taron’s hair in the same way she had done as he lay in the 7/11 and ambulance.

Taron had very much been enjoying the feel of Robyn’s hand in his hair, the gentle scratching of his scalp what he had been aching for when he lay in the bath the day before. He had yet to take his pain killers so her rhythmic movements was helping to take the edge of his headache; one he woke with every morning. He hoped she hadn’t heard the quiet moan of delight he made as well as the one of disappointment when she suddenly stopped.

He looked up to her and saw slight embarrassment on her face. “Robyn?”

“Shit Taron sorry. I think it was just habit. It was something I did in the 7/11 and ambulance, when you started to get anxious.”

“There seems to be a lot of things you have done for me that Richard left out. I didn’t know you did that. Thank you.”

“You don’t have to say thanks. Something else that wasn’t in our twenty questions, I personally love it when something does that to me. Playing with my hair, scratching my head, I literally melt. When I worked in the rooms with the children and they asked could they do my hair, I quickly obliged.” She felt Taron cringe under her. “They are actually really gentle Taron, except for when they bend down to pick up the brush they dropped and pull your hair with them but I loved it. I would sit for hours if I could.” Taron began to understand why Robyn calmed so quickly from his touch last night. “I just automatically started to do it to you without thinking.”

“I honestly don’t mind Robyn. It’s one of those comforting things I love too.” Taron closed the book and put it to his right side on the bed. “Robyn?” He asked quietly as he pulled his glasses off and looked up to her. “Can I stay here with you forever.”

Robyn looked to him confused. “Sorry?”

“Can I stay here with you forever, like this, just laying on your bed, reading baking books while you play with my hair. I don’t want to leave our little bubble that we have made.” Taron’s voice cracked as he spoke the last few words.

On hearing the break in his voice, Robyn instantly wrapped her arms around Taron’s shoulders, cradling his head in her arms against her chest, Taron moving so his hands could hold Robyn’s arms. “What happened Taron?”

“I had a missed call from my publicist.” He answered. “It only means one thing.”

“Ahh shit Taron.” She cuddled him closer. It was definitely a bubble they had made for themselves in Robyn’s quiet apartment in her home town and she was pretty sure she could count on two hands how many people knew Taron was with her, almost hidden away but it seemed their little paradise of healing was no longer a secret and she knew Taron was not quite ready to be harassed by the media just yet. “Don’t start worrying about it until you talk to her. It is a her right?”

“Yeah Lyndsey.”

“Ok well, let’s get some breakfast and then you can ring Lyndsey. It might not be what you think.”

“I can’t deal with the media at the moment Robyn.”

“And you won’t have to Taron. Talk to Lyndsey first before you start over thinking everything.” She soothed his hair down. “Don’t get worked up over something that hasn’t happened.” She felt him nod against her and she hugged him hard. “You knew yourself this was going to happen so it’s not a complete surprise but you have a wonderful support system around you Taron and I am sure Lyndsey will be doing everything she can to keep you protected and stop the story from spiralling out of control.”

“Yeah she will but you too Robyn. You don’t need to be pulled into this with me.”

“Taron, I knew who were you in the 7/11 as soon as I saw you and Richard and I made the decision to help you. I understand some of the nature of your work and the responsibility that comes with it and my name is going to be put out there.”

“I don’t want that to happen Robyn.”

“I don’t think this is one story the media are going to be able to twist though Taron. The truth is what will make it easier for all of us and I don’t mind if my name is there alongside yours. We are in this together right? That’s what we agreed. It isn’t a kinky sex story of scandal and disgrace. It’s a true representation of what happened that kept you alive.”

“You don’t know how the media spin stories though.”

“You remember Valerie, right? I work in a small building, as a supervisor, full of women. I am used to a story being spun sideways. I am a big girl Taron. I can take it.” She felt him take a long breath and she brushed her right hand through his hair again. “One step at a time. It’s been working well for us so far. We are talking through everything and look how far we have come in four days. This is just another hurdle we knew was coming towards us. Ring Lyndsey after breakfast and see what she has to say.” Brushing his hair again, Robyn pressed her lips to his head.

“Or I could just stay in our bubble.” He repeated his earlier words. “Let me stay in it for a while longer, ok?”

“For as long as you need.” Robyn felt Taron bury his head closer to her, the baking book now forgotten, fallen to the floor as he turned a little so he could get closer to Robyn.

With his shirt off and being so close to him, she was able to see more clearly the bruising that marred the skin on his side. It still looked incredibly sore. It was only over a week since he had been beaten by numerous falling glass candles and hit with a bullet and his body had really yet to show signs of healing. Even though Robyn had thrown herself back into work, Taron was nowhere near ready to let his body even attempt to do anything more strenuous then laying on a bed like he was doing now. She carefully swept his hair back again, letting her short nails gently scratch his head, a motion she knew Taron enjoyed as he lifted his head a little into her touch. As she scratched his head again, she looked down to his forehead where the steri-strips covered the wound that started at his hairline which was still angry and red. “What did the doctor say about your head?” She asked, moving her fingers from his hair to the tender bruises around the gash.

“When I get my stitches out, the doctor who does that, needs to look at my head and see if they need to take the strips off or leave them for another while.”

“When do your stitches have to come out?”

“Doctor Hart said ten days at least if not more because of how deep the wound on my arm was.”

Robyn mentally counted the days. “Ok well I get my stitches out on tomorrow morning. Do you want to come with me and we can make an appointment for you too? You will still be here with me ten days after you were stitched up so we might as well ask. The doctor can check your head as well.”

“Yeah ok. I can’t keep them in until I go home to Aber. I was given a dressing to cover the cut on my head but I haven’t used it.”

“You should cover it, if the doctor told you to. It helps keep it clean so it doesn’t get infected.” Taron murmured something but she didn’t quite catch what he said. “I can cover it for you.” She replied to his mumblings as she ran her fingers through his hair again. “Taron?”

“Hmm.”

“You listening to me?”

“Hmm. No don’t stop.” He complained when Robyn lifted her hand from his hair. “It’s nice.”

She chuckled. “Everybody loves having their hair played with.” She resumed the gentle scratching of his head, Taron cuddling into her some more, tucking his legs up so he was more comfortable on the bed. “I can’t do this all day.” She said as Taron snugged more into her. She took his glasses from his left hand and moved them onto the pillow to her left. “And you still have to talk to Lyndsey.”

“Two more minutes.” He replied. “Maybe three.” Closing his eyes, Taron leant fully into Robyn, sighing as her hand applied the perfect amount of pressure to his head.

Robyn smiled as Taron became jelly under her hands, his whole body relaxing into her, once again heat radiating from him as he cuddled tighter against her and she was very much willing to hug him close. Every time there was an ounce of progress, something knocked them back and now it was Taron’s worries over what kind of story the media would string about his ordeal. Robyn was sure though that his publicist would be more than willing to help Taron in every way possible and ensure rumours would be dealt with quickly. “Taron?”

“Hmm?” It was the softest of replies from the man in her arms.

“Lyndsey?”

“One more minute.”

“Breakfast?” She tried.

“One more minute.” He repeated.

“You are going to get cold.” She answered him back as her right hand rubbed up and down his bare back. “The bedroom is really cold now with the air con on all night.”

“No you’re warm.” He replied sleepily. “One more minute.” Taron lay his right arm around Robyn’s waist, his left curled against his side. “A minute. Hair. Please.” Taron’s sentences became single words.

“Only because you asked so nicely.” Robyn resumed the head massage she was giving him. She couldn’t say no to him, especially when he looked a little vulnerable like he did in the 7/11. Their roles of who was looking after who continued to change throughout their time together and though Taron had been looking after Robyn during the night, Robyn now held him in her arms as he lay cosily against her.

It was a comfort Taron didn’t know he needed but once Robyn guided him into her body for a hug, he very much enjoyed the physical contact she gave him and nuzzled closer to her, hearing her steady heartbeat in his ear, finding it hard to even comprehend how hollow his chest would have sounded to her when he wasn’t breathing. Taron closed his eyes, thoroughly enjoying how Robyn’s nimble fingers kneaded his head. He was a very open and cuddly person and willingly shared hugs and cuddles with his family and friends but it had been a long time since he had been given a cuddle like the one Robyn was giving him. He hated how the mention of affection and emotions made men seem weak and that it was something they couldn’t experience, that they weren’t actually allowed to feel, weren’t allowed to show. He never shied away from his emotions and hugs like these were very rare for him, others normally brushing him off when he wanted to stay in a hug for longer, or have an extra tight cuddle. Robyn was different. She understood the importance and meaning behind an embrace like this and as she continued to ease his worries about newspapers and media with simple gestures of kindness, it was refreshing that he could be himself around her.

“You are going to fall back asleep.” Robyn’s voice broke through his thoughts.

“Won’t.” He replied although he felt very close to a nice slumber.

“I don’t mind if you want to sleep Taron. We don’t have anything else planned for the day.”

“Might do.” Taron opened his eyes as his stomach grumbled making Robyn laugh. “Though my stomach has other ideas.” He took a long breath, the fingers of his right hand rubbing his eyes.

“Sleep if you want.” She insisted.

“As much as I would love to, I need to take my pain killers and ring Lyndsey.” Taron carefully eased himself from Robyn’s body, laying back on the pillow behind him, feeling a difference in temperature between Robyn and the cotton on his back. “I knew it was coming, the shit with the media. I just didn’t think it would be so soon.”

“It’s been a week Taron. I think you have done really good not to hear anything about it until now. Please don’t worry until you have spoken to Lyndsey.” Robyn moved to her side, her head resting in her right hand as she looked at him.

“I rang her when I was in the hospital to tell her what had happened so she would be prepared. She told me she would contact me when she started to read anything herself or hear anything, telling me it would be best if I made a quick little press release once the media found out.”

“Well that’s not the end of the world is it? One press conference, done and dusted.”

“I will have to travel to London to do it.”

“Oh no you won’t. You are on house arrest and under strict orders to rest. I am sure it can be organised from Aberystwyth or even online so you don’t even have to travel.”

“I like how you put perspective on everything for me Robyn.”

“I try.” She slid her left hand on top of his as it lay on his stomach. “Taron when you ring Lyndsey, she will also help to put your mind at ease. She has always been your publicist?”

“Yeah since the first Kingsman.”

“Well then Taron I do believe she will have your best interests at heart. She will do everything she can to keep the pressure off you and just going off topic for a moment. I didn’t realise how bad your bruising was Taron. I have some arnica cream that will help you.” She gave his hand little squeeze. “Everything is going to be ok Taron.” Leaning forward she kissed his cheek. “I am going to go and have a quick shower and rustle up something for breakfast.” She shuffled off the bed and walked around to pick up the baking cook book that fell on the floor. “Here, pick something that you really want to bake and we will make it and bring it to dinner on Tuesday.” Taron took the book from her. “Anyone you want, ok?”

“Yeah ok.” He breathed. “Thanks Robyn. We seem to have a good moment and then it’s just ruined by a bad one.”

“Hey as long as we go through the bad ones together, right?”

“Right.” He agreed.

“Chin up Taron. After what we have been through, we are ready to face whatever the world wants to throw our way.” She turned to walk away but looked back to him. “And if it makes you feel any better, I don’t want our little bubble to burst either.”

[hbosscreations]

Here is my @redvsbluesecretsanta gift for @ bi-vampire this year! They asked for a Freelancer fic with vampires and some Carolina/York or North/York, I hope that they enjoy it!

Carolina bit back a snarl as she rattled the door of the cage she’d been unceremoniously shoved into by a blonde haired vampire with purple leather pants and a dark green tank top. Sure, Carolina was glad to not have been out and out murdered instead of being captured, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t absolutely livid about the situation.

The cage was small, leaving Carolina slightly hunched and unable to sit or even properly stretch her legs.The sound of jingling chains pulled Carolina’s attention back to her partner, the reason she was trapped in a cage in the first place.

“York.”

“Yes, Carolina?”

York’s chains clanked as he shifted toward her. Why she’d ended up in a go-go cage and he’d ended up chained to a chair was beyond her, but it was more than a little annoying.

It was a temporary situation at best, she knew, they that didn’t mean she was happy about the two of them being captured. They’d gotten out of tight situations before, but this was a bit much.

“Do you remember what you told me before we left?”

“Maaaybe?”

Carolina flicked the padlock on the cage, letting the heavy lock bounce off of the metal bars over and over again.

“About how you’d done your research? About how this was just a little nest that needed to be taken care of, and we totally didn’t need backup? About how we were going to be doing a stake and run and be back home for dinner?”

He at least looked embarrassed about his screwup, which was appropriate, but not entirely helpful given that they’d been captured and bound by the very vampires they’d come to clear out.

“Yeeeaaah?”

York twisted his hand and ran a nail over his wrist, scrapping it against the skin until a small flap lifted, slowly peeling it away to reveal a tiny lockpick set hidden against his skin. He flipped the tools into his hands and got to work on the padlock chaining his wrists together and attaching him firmly to the metal chair bolted to the floor.

“When we get out of here,” York looked up to Carolina with a grin, “I’m thinking Chinese food. Something with crispy tofu. You?”

“If we get out of here, I am going to retrain you. You are going to pray for death by the time I’m done with you.”

“Don’t tempt me with a good time, Carolina!”

He struggled with the padlock, twisting the tiny tools around, his smile going from cheerful and carefree to something sharp and distressed. Just as York thought he might be close to getting it right, one of the picks fell from his fingers and bounced out of reach.

York groaned as Carolina leveled a frustrated glare.

“If I die here my father is going to kill you. If I get turned, he will stake you himself.”

“We’re not going to die here, Carolina. I have a plan.”

The door creaked open and the two snapped their attention to it. The blonde vampire that captured them slipped through the door and crossed her arms as she leaned against the wall, watching the two trapped humans. York felt a shiver building in his spine and Carolina bared her teeth.

“Relax, hunter, no one is dying today. Tomorrow, maybe, but not today.”

She’d caught them scoping out the place just after sunset, and before Carolina could pull her stake, she’d been tossed into a cage and York was strapped into chains.

Neither hunter had expected a vampire that old, that capable. Carolina’s father had trained her to hunt vampires since she was a child and her mother was killed in a vampire attack. She didn’t get surprised. She just didn’t.

Until she did.

York blinked innocently at the vampire, hoping his charming smile would distract her from the pick on the floor and from Carolina trying to murder her with the heat of her glare alone.

“Um, miss vampire? Maybe this is a stupid question, but…well, is there a reason I’m chained up? Aside from the obvious?”

The vampire swaggered over, smirking, and ruffled York’s hair before patting his cheek with just enough strength to make his cheek sting.

“You mean aside from keeping you restrained so you can’t murder us? Consider yourself a present for my brother. He likes idiots, and he needs to know how easily his ‘impeccably maintained perimeter’ was broken.”

Carolina felt her hackles raise as the vampire circled York’s chair before she slowly sauntered to Carolina’s cage and leaned against the bars with a wide smile.

“It’s cute that you think you’re getting out of there by pulling on that lock.”

“It’s cute that you think that purple hair and leather look is still relevant.”

“Really? You’re going to be that kind of chick? You’re going to rag on my hair when I’m literally wearing Barney the Dinosaur shades of purple and green? I mean, that’s your choice, but there are plenty of other things to criticize. At least my dye job looks good, Red. You might want to touch up your roots, btdubs, they’re looking pretty sad.”

The door creaked open again, and York blinked hard.

Another vampire moved into the room, moving directly to the vamp nearly pressed against the cage, and tugged her back by her wrists.

“South, is there a reason you’ve got humans in chains?”

She spun around and pulled Carolina’s cell phone out of her pocket, waggling it in front of his face.

“We’ve got hunters, North. That ‘little problem’ you’ve been trying to handle has caught the attention of people looking to murder us. If you’d let me handle it-“

“Thank you, South. I’ll take care of it. Is there a reason you bolted a chair to the floor?”

“He seems like your type. Now, can we please figure out who’s encroaching on our territory and drawing attention to us before someone competent shows up and tries to stab us with pointy sticks.”

York had clearly missed something during his research, such as the fact that the vampires he’d seen in the area were probably not the vampires destroying the nearby town. After all, no intelligent vampire did the kind of destruction that York had been tracking.

It drew too much attention.

And now, thanks to York’s shoddy research, he and his girlfriend were about to die.

North stepped up close to York, tipping his chin up with a chilly hand, and smiled down on him.

“Did you really think you were going to come here and kill us? That I would allow you to kill my sister? Destroy my family? No. Not today, not ever. I don’t enjoy killing, but I will not hesitate to rip the two of you to shreds to keep my people safe.”

York’s Adams apple bobbed nervously as he swallowed.

“I’ve been tracking a group of vampires eating their way along the coast. The trail led here, so we decided to take a look. And by the way, we are competent, we’re fully registered vampire hunters, and we’re very professional.”

“York,” Carolina hissed through gritted teeth, “Shut up.”

What was he thinking? Carolina was sure that her half blind idiot was about to get their throats torn out by a pair of angry vampires.

“Hey, I’m just being honest, and if honestly has the potential of keeping us alive, I’m a fan.”

“You think being licensed vampire hunters makes this better?”

Carolina’s lips curled unpleasantly. She understood what he was trying now, and while she was sure it was an incredibly stupid plan, he’d started it. They were committed.

“It means we don’t kill indiscriminately, but we can and will kill should the need arise. It means we are very careful, and it means that if we do not check in soon, there are people who will come looking, and they won’t be armed with just a few measly stakes. They also aren’t going to wait for you to tell your side of the story.”

Both vampires looked unimpressed at Carolina’s declaration, but she didn’t need them impressed, she just needed them spooked enough to let her or York free long enough for one of them to deal with the situation.

She knew she could take both of the vamps, Carolina excelled at multi-enemy fighting. York was capable in his own right, but it might be more of a struggle for him alone. He just needed to get the keys from the vampires and free Carolina. The rest would be cake.

“Papa North?”

The room stilled as the door slid open again, revealing two children as they entered. The little one, another blond with bright red eyes and a purple top clung to the elder boy’s hand.

“Delta,” North’s voice had the gentlest hint of scolding to it, “Theta, this isn’t where you two are supposed to be, and you know that. What’s going on?”

“We’re hungry,” Theta whined.

“Aww! Carolina, look! Babies!”

York grinned and wiggled in his seat, looking excited to anyone who didn’t know him, and terrified to Carolina. Carolina’s gut twisted in horror as she realized exactly what they’d stumbled into, and despite his pleased tone she knew that York was doing everything he could to hold himself together.

Babies wasn’t the right phrase, one looked to be a teenager and the other looked about eight years old, but that wasn’t the worst part.

They weren’t turned. The bright glow to both sets of eyes gave them away as natural born vampire children. Purebloods. And where there were two, there would be a nest.

It was no longer a mystery why these two were so nervous, it was now more of a question as to why they hadn’t just killed their human captives outright.

The little one detached himself from Delta and climbed North’s leg all the way to his arms and curled up their.

“I’m hungry, North. Can we eat now?”

York shot a look at Carolina before gently rattling his chains, catching the attention of the green-eyed teenage vampire. He glanced between York and the tiny lockpick that rested between his feet.

“Not now, Theta, but in just a few minutes. Come on, you two, go back to the nursery. South, can you take care of this, please?”

“I am not a fucking babysitter, North.”

But she plucked the boy from her brother’s arms and as she led the two out of the room, Delta gently kicked the lockpick over to York’s chair nonchalantly before the door shut behind them.

North leaned over and picked up the piece, tucking it into his pocket.

“He thinks he’s so sneaky. I won’t tell him otherwise, or he might actually get creative enough to fool me. Now, let’s deal with this situation so I can feed a flock of very hungry fledlings.”

North smiled a little tighter and fished a key from his pocket.

“We are aware of what’s going on, and we’re working on it. No need for hunters, licensed or unlicensed to come in and threaten us.”

He moved over to York and started unlocking the padlocks on York’s chains, letting them fall to the floor in a heap.

York blinked.

“You’re unchaining me? Why are you unchaining me when you can rip out my throat so easily while I’m chained up?”

North smiled and pulled York to his feet, dusting off his shoulders and nudging him toward Carolina’s cage before he opened the padlock and swung the door open wide.

“You came here to find out what is killing people, and only an idiot would think we would draw that kind of attention on ourselves with little ones around. Do some more research before stumbling into nests, or you may end up eaten by those of our kind who are more interested in making a point than either I or my sister are.”

He shooed Carolina and York to the door, letting a hand stroke gently along York’s spine before going to the second door and shutting it behind himself.

Carolina and York shared a look.

“That was interesting.”

“What just happened?”

Carolina put her hand on York’s shoulder and turned him toward the door, hoping to god that this was real and they weren’t about to be surprised and devoured.

“Why?”

“They don’t want trouble any more than we do. Come on, if we hurry, we can pretend we were just on a date any my father never has to know that we were almost murdered.”

“I like that plan.”

-

South glared at her brother as he watched the two humans race out of the mansion on the security cameras. They were going to have to move again to make sure they didn’t get return with backup and kill the nest.

He turned and smiled gently at South, leaving her rolling her eyes and sighing in frustration.

“You let them go.”

“I did.”

“Are you high? Did you eat a human with drugs in their veins? Are you full of cocaine and marijuana right now? Do you need an intervention?”

He cradled Theta carefully as he stood, the little vampire playfully biting North’s shoulder to remind his caretaker that he was still hungry.

“No, South. I just don’t feel like keeping prisoners, especially when we have plenty of willing donors so close by.”

“And you thought the cyclops was too cute to eat.”

“And I thought York was cute.”

[thecultoftill]

Flake on Mein Teil.

This is long so it’s beneath the cut. 

I step onto the wheel of the cauldron so I can hop into it, but quickly realize that there’s barely any space left for me because the gas canister for the flash-pots is already in there. There are lamps built into the base that I have to avoid touching because they get so hot. I once fell onto one of the lamps during a rehearsal and burned the hell out of my hands—my skin stuck to the thin metal grate that protects the lamp itself. It stank of burnt flesh. Why does it smell so good when you grill out? Is it something to do with the salt or the beer? Or the type of flesh? My flesh just stank. 

 I have to squeeze past my keyboard, too, which is also in the cauldron. I’m a musician after all, and I want to play on the song. Though sometimes I forget. I pick up the keyboard and wriggle into the cauldron. Then I curl up in the bottom of it. The stage manager comes over and fills the cauldron with as much dry-ice fog as he can. I quickly hold my breath. Too late. Then the lid is placed on the cauldron and Till, who has just changed outfits, pulls it out onto the stage. Obviously I can’t see this happen, but I feel the wheels rattling beneath me. I always wonder how he manages it since the whole contraption must weigh at least a ton. 

The band is playing full throttle. The song is called “Mein Teil” not full throttle; I just mean the band is playing hard. You could just as easily say they’re playing full on, or full tilt. It just depends on your personal inclinations, I guess. People who are into cars use car metaphors, like they say someone has blown a gasket when somebody’s pissed off. Or they say that something isn’t firing on all cylinders if it isn’t working right. Anyway, Till sometimes lifts up the lid of the cauldron for a second to let a bit of the fog out. There used to be an oxygen tank inside so I could breath despite all the fog. But it was always unexpectedly empty, and since I was counting on having fresh oxygen I wouldn’t take a deep breath beforehand and would nearly suffocate. These days I can stifle my gasps. The only other time I manage that is at the movies, when there’s a particularly tense scene and the whole audience is dead quiet. I have to cough and it makes me breathe in some of the fog. That makes me dizzy, so I turn on the light. At least this way I can tell up from down. The timing is perfect, because Till rips the lid off now and tosses it aside. It clangs loudly against the stage floor and I can feel the reverberations from inside the cauldron. The fog starts to seep out, lit beautifully from below by the lamps around me inside the cauldron.   Till starts to sing the first verse, and I pop dramatically out of the cauldron and play my melody on the keyboard, which I’ve quickly hooked onto the rim of the cauldron.

 Till’s microphone is shaped like a knife and he keeps coming over to the cauldron and sticking me with it to see if I’m cooked yet. Apparently it’s taking too long for his taste, so during the bridge he goes over and gets a flamethrower to really turn up the heat. It’s probably becoming clear that we do a lot during the bridges of songs, since it’s the only part when we don’t all have to play or sing. In any event, Till aims Flamey—as we affectionately call our flamethrower—at me and blasts away. Since I’m expecting it, I duck out of the way. But it’s still hot. Obviously it was just as hot at the concert before, but somehow I always forget just how hot it actually is. It just can’t be. Maybe my skin has gotten thinner.

 I pop back up to show Till that it’s going to take a lot more than that to take me out. More flames come my way. It may be just as hot, but by the second time around the shock is gone. Even so, I’m not laughing quite as much the second time I pop back up. This time—to show Till how tough guy I am—I stay up as long as I can, only ducking down when the flames are right in front of my face. The third blast of flames is bad again, and the only way I can get through the fourth blast is because I know there’ll be a break afterwards. I hop up from the cauldron again and wave tauntingly at Till—he can’t roast me to death that easily. In reality I’m just trying to catch my breath, since it would be deadly to breathe while surrounded by the flames. I’d inhale fire. Even now I can’t really breathe because the flames have consumed all the oxygen in the air. It feels like I’m inhaling concrete. I’ll just have to catch my breath later. 

Till is pissed because I’m still not cooked. He’s not giving up so easily. He hauls another flamethrower onto the stage, and this one is three times as big as the first one. He aims it at me. I drop into the cauldron at exactly the right moment. It’s not just the flamethrower that is three times as big—so are the flames it shoots. The previous one made me sweat, but now I’m bone dry, all the fluid is being steamed out of me. My jacket is hot, too, and I have to be careful not to touch the zipper, which is white hot. It’s like in the sauna—you can’t take any metal items in because they can burn you. When I pop back up this time, I have to force myself to smile. The next blast is even hotter, and I consider just lying in the cauldron until things have cooled off a little. I would do it, too, if the heat lasted even a split second longer. Till seems to be enjoying the whole thing and this time shoots the flames even longer. It feels like my skin is on fire. I only pop up for a second, just so as not to be a poor sport, and then Till fires again. We’ve tried all sorts of things to make this stunt more bearable for me, but whatever blankets or other things we put in the cauldron just make it more difficult for me to move around, which actually increases the chances of me getting seriously injured. I’ve come to the conclusion that the best solution is for me to just grin and bear it. That approach works well in many situations. Just grin and bear it and it’s over fast. Like now. Till is done, and I lie in the bottom of the cauldron looking for my slippers. I must be disoriented, because of course I’m looking for my gloves, not slippers. What made me think of slippers? I mean, I don’t even wear slippers at home. I’ve been opposed to slippers since I was a kid, and I don’t even like to visit people who ask me to take off my shoes before coming in. It’s probably because of my socks. Of course, I don’t like to wear gloves, either. They make me feel as if I’ve lost the feeling in my hands. But now I need them. I can’t see anything because of all the smoke. 

 During the first rehearsals for the tour I didn’t have gloves, and when I went to climb out of the cauldron after all the bursts from the flamethrowers, the skin on my fingers stuck to the rim of the cauldron, which was so hot it was practically glowing. The pain during the next concert almost drove me mad, since I still had to play with my fingertips. But at some point my fingers healed again. I 9 just tried to play as few notes as possible while they were healing. For a while I had no fingerprint, either, and could have robbed a bank, but I didn’t think of it. 

 I’ve found the gloves now and pull them on. I have to hurry, otherwise the song will be over before I get out of the tub. In which case Till would have won, so to speak. So I try to put myself in a sporting frame of mind and swing myself out of the cauldron. Then I toss the gloves back into the tub since I’ll need them again tomorrow. Right at that moment, the pyro technicians set off the effects on my belt. I run disoriented across the stage, hoping Till doesn’t catch me. Just as I’m about to take a deep breath, I turn awkwardly and take in the smoke from one of the flash-pots. It’s pure poison, maybe even radioactive, something to do with Strontium or whatever. The song is coming to its finale. I cross the stage while comets are shot down at me. They land right next to me so it looks from the audience as if they are actually hitting me. Sometimes, when I stray too far back, they do hit me, and it hurts really badly and for several days afterwards I have sores that look like giant love-bites.  But today everything goes well, and we pull off the song with no hassles. Why was I so nervous? While the outro of the song is playing, the pyro guys take off my belt backstage, and I take a few cautious breaths. Then, as the rear curtain falls, I dash over to the side of the stage where my keyboards are. I deftly weave my way through the cables and spotlights in the dark. I run into Till and he smacks me lightheartedly on the ass. 

Flake in his book Heute Hat Die Welt Geburstag. 

Translation by Tim Mohr(Found opn publisher’s website)