#its REALLY tacky to save someone and then kill them

[moeblob]

A succubus and a demon! (The succubi don't have names but the demon is Kronos and the succubus is one of his bosses in Hell and he's not /fond/ of the succubi for many reasons but they all adore picking on him)

Also because I love them and like to point it out, the succubi act more as pleasure dealers in the sense of they offer up whatever a human wants most in exchange for their soul. It's rarely of a sexual nature since it's what they want MOST in life. And most people's ambitions are outside of a bedroom. (happy pride, asexuals are able to get affected by a succubus now without discrimination)

[short-honey-badger]

Hi, can I request a Shamrock salad? Some pirate pulls a Luffy on some asshole Celestial and so the Godknights pull up! Pirate lady runs off but not before barely kicking Shamrock's ass which resulted in him becoming obsessed/infatuated with her. Hunts her relentlessly but someone caught her first (marines? enemy pirates? bounty hunters? surprise me) and Shamrock furiously kills people then takes her because goddammit he should've been the one to capture her and put her in chains (look, he even brought gold cuffs with 24k diamonds to bring out the bling bling)

My dear. I'm so sorry that this took a minute to get to lol, but I really hope you enjoy!

Insolent Pirate Woman

Pairings! Figarland Shamrock x Female Reader

Warnings! almosy 3k of pure SMUT! breeding kink, viginal fingering, chains, and cuffs. Lap sex. Unintentional voyeurism.

Masterlist for Shamrock and Shanks-> HERE

Shamrock would never admit that he was pouting, but to anyone outside that saw the disgruntled god knight currently holding his broken and bleeding nose, most would likely call it like they saw it. He had shown up to cull the commotion that one of the many pirates entering the new world had started. It wasn't hard to find the reason behind said commotion, but before he could bring the pirate in, you'd sprang past him, socking him in the face, before you disappeared into the thick forests that surrounded Sabaody.

The god knight had been too surprised to pursue you, but he could remember your face and had sworn to track you down and bring you in himself. The two of you had had several run-ins after that, and like usual, you escaped him each time. But each time he saw you, with that big smile upon your face, hiding away the immense strength you possessed, Shamrock fell further and further. So when he heard that you had finally been captured by a rather reputable bounty hunter, well, he couldn't have that, could he? No, the only one to bring you in would be him.

Shamrock set sail immediately, knowing that he would need to intercept the bounty hunters before they made it back to Sabaody where you would be cuffed and sold to the highest bidder, and he would be damned before he let that happen to you. Thankfully, it wasn't terribly difficult to track you down. He had connections in every part of the Grand Line, after all.

He could see the ship that held you from where he stood on the deck of his own ship. His eyes narrowed, and he barked an order to get them closer. The wind blew the way they needed, as if knowing that the god knight was in need of it.

With a flick of his wrist, the hilt of his sword met his hand, and with a slash, he watched in satisfaction as the water parted, waves crashing into the enemy ship. Wood splintered, the main sail leaning dangerously before ultimately cracking and falling on the deck below, crushing several bounty hunters underneath its weight. Now that the vessel was dead in the water, his own ship reached the bounty hunters with ease. Shamrock leaped from his deck, booted feet touching down on the broken mast as he stared down at the panicking plebeians who had somehow captured his favorite pirate.

“You have someone I want,” he announced, and without preamble, began to swiftly cut down the bounty hunters that stood in his way. They put up little fight against someone of his caliber, so it takes no time at all before the top deck is drenched in gore, blood staining his white pants and flecks of it painted across his face. He ignores the tacky feeling and lopes below the deck, following the winding hallways until he reaches the brig below.

He ignores the prisoners who beg for his help until he finds who he is looking for. You sit at the back of your cell, a bored look on your face, seemingly uninterested in the chaos above deck until you look up and see Shamrock on the other side of the bars. You grin, eyes curving into a mischievous smile as you look him up and down, “Awe. You came all this way to save little ole me?”

Shamrock rolls his eyes, reaches forward with both hands, and promptly rips the bars off the wall. You watch with wide eyes as he saunters forward and snaps the iron cuffs from your wrist, though any hope dies when you see the set of chains that he pulls out from behind his back. They are gilded and encrusted with gems, a collar, but a fancy collar.

“If you want to call it that,” he quips dryly as he locks the golden cuffs around your wrists. You eye them with interest, noting that the insides of the cuffs were lined with a soft leather to prevent them from digging into your skin. The chains that connect them are removable, a small locking clip that Shamrock had the key to.

“Did you have these specially made?” You question and watch with interest as the redhead before you flushes, his cheeks pinking just the slightest in obvious embarrassment. You grin, not put out at all over the cuffs.

“Yes.”

You snicker at his gruff answer, though it is cut short when Shamrock tugs the chain and you trip forward, hands coming up to land against his chest. You look up, head cocking in curiosity when your new jailer lifts a hand, gloved fingers sliding into your hair reverently, as if he can’t wrap his head around the fact that he finally has you in his possession. You watch him lick his lips, tracking the way his throat works, and that pink muscle slides along his flesh. Sudden arousal pools in your lower stomach, and you shift forward, fingers curling into the fabric of his uniform.

The tension in the atmosphere is palpable, and it shatters when you lunge forward, lips meeting the holy knight’s own in a kiss of pure lust. The two of you have been dancing around this mutual attraction for months, for as much as Shamrock was obsessed with you, you were just as enamored with him. This kiss is more tongue and teeth, the two of you devouring one another with a simple-minded focus. You hiss when he nips your bottom lip, teeth digging into the sensitive skin before he pulls you away by your hair, staring down at you as he attempts to get his breathing back under his control.

You whine when he stops, but it is swiftly cut off when he bends, hand yanking your head back further to expose the span of your throat. He noses along your pulse, shoulders softening, and lips leaving a trail of dark marks behind his wake. You are just as soft and delightful as Shamrock had imagined you would be.

“You should have let me capture you sooner,” he murmurs against your flesh, and you shiver at his warm breath, eyes going half-lidded and hands pulling him ever closer to you.

“If I’d known this would happen, I would have,” you breathe, and shove your hands under the short jacket he wears, nails scraping against the fabric of his shirt as you breathe him in. Your body is on fire, arousal burning like lava through your veins. You meet his gaze when he pulls away, his eyes the color of the blood that paints his face. The sight should disgust you, but it only makes that lust burn even brighter. You grin up at him, lips a mischievous smile, “Are you going to fuck me or not, Shamrock?”

You grunt when you are spun around, you back slamming into the wall of your cell, wrists aching when he jerks the chain up. His free arm tucks under your ass, leveraging you against the wall as you wrap your legs around his hips. Shamrock grinds into the heat between your legs, and a groan rips from your throat when you feel his length press against your clothed cunt, the pressure fantastic, but still not enough.

“What a filthy mouth you have, darling,” he rumbles above you. He drops the chain in favor of grasping you by the face, his gloved fingers digging into your cheeks, “If we had more time here, I’d use it for something else.”

The warning makes lust shoot down your spine, eyes going wide before a smirk curls your lips and you wiggle your eyebrows at the holy knight, “How about next time?”

Shamrock huffs at you and then leans in, softening his grip just slightly and pressing his lips against your own, devouring your mouth in a kiss that's all sharp teeth and wet tongue. You meet his head on, soft groans leaving you as you clutch at his chest, needing more of that heady pleasure that the Holy knight happily delivers you. He grinds up against your cunt again, now free hand grasping you by the ass and pulling you into the motion, his fingers digging into the thick meat of your backside.

You drop your hands from his chest, suddenly too hot and frantic with the layers you have on. You jerk at your own shirt, popping buttons, and sending them skittering across the cell floor. That hot mouth trails from your lips and down your throat, leaving behind dark marks that would linger for the next couple of days at least, teeth harsh and digging into your sensitive flesh. You curse at the pain, but it just makes the pleasure you feel all the more intense, eyes going glassy as your work to get your damn bra off.

Shamrock pulls away and reaches out, fingers finding the thick band and snapping the fabric with a twist of his hand. You grab at the article, impatiently tug it off, and drop it to the floor, breasts prickling in the cooler air and nipples tightening. He smooths his hand along the now exposed flesh, cupping your breast and smoothing the calloused pad of his thumb over your nipple before taking the bud between two fingers and pinching meanly. You yelp and send him a glare, but Shamrock only smirks back before he dips his head to suck your abused nipple between his lips, tongue flattening along the bud and you toss back your head and whine loudly.

Neither of you is aware of how loud the two of you are being, no care in the world for the other prisoners that surround your cell. Far too lost within one another to give even a second thought to your audience.

You drop your hands again, fingers finding the string that holds your pants tight around your hips and plucking it loose. You work the fabric open, mind glazed over with arousal and fingers going clumsy until Shamrock takes notice and knocks your hands away so that he can do it himself. Needing a better surface to get to you on, he pushes away from the wall and stalks to the tiny cot at the end of the room, tugging your pants down to your thighs before he drops down so that you can settle back on his lap. You shiver when the cooler air ghosts over your cunt, but the feeling doesn't last long, not when those long fingers snake down and find your already soaked folds.

Shamrock groans at the feeling of sticky cream clinging to your pussy. He slides his fingers through the mess, thumb pressing against your clit and rubbing harsh half circles that make you keen and bow forward, gilded chains rattling as your clutch at his shirt, hips rocking forward to meet his hand. His fingers find your entrance with ease, and he smirks when he slides forward, your cunt welcoming his middle finger like it's always belonged there. You cry and whine against him, working yourself up to the first orgasm of many.

“That's it, Darling. Come on my hand, take your pleasure in how I touch you,” He rumbles and presses his lips to the corner of your mouth, drinking in the sighs and moans that spill forth. He hums when you suddenly jerk in his hold, pussy fluttering and twitching as you cream around the finger he has stuffed inside of you. He shifts, and stuff two more inside your soaked cunt without remorse.

Your hips jerk at the sudden pain, but it is quickly overshadowed by the way Shamrock wriggles his fingers inside you, walls fluttering and stretching as he prepares you for something far bigger than three of his fingers. You can't help but reach up, hands dragging over his shoulders and nails digging into the fabric of his shirt, lips finding his own in a kiss that turns slow. His tongue works over your own, tangling together into a messy embrace that has saliva sticking your lips to his own.

“Sham, Sham, please,” you whine against his mouth and then pull away, big glassy eyes meeting his flaming burgundy ones as you beg, “I want your cock.”

Shamrock huffs again, face flushing and cock throbbing in his pants at the way you beg so sweetly. He pulls his fingers free and holds them up, and the two of you see how much your sticky slick coats his fingers. You watch in rapt attention as he shoves them into his mouth, tongue cleaning them with a rapturous look upon his face before he pops them free between his lips and drops his hand to work his pants free.

“I want that next time,” you say and shift impatiently on his lap, “Want to ride your face and suck your cock. Want to feel you come inside me until I can't take anymore.”

Shamrock grits his teeth at your dirty talk, finding it an incredible turn on, and slaps your exposed ass in retaliation. You gasp and hump forward, eyes going wide at the harsh touch, and so Shamrock does it again, his other hand shoving his underwear down and hissing when his cock jumps out. His length is shiny with precum, twitching with the need to be shoved inside of your waiting cunt.

“You'll never stray from my side after this, darling. You are mine. Mine to use, mine to fuck, mine to wed,” Shamrock snarls and lifts you by the hip with one hand, your knees shaking on either side of his waist as he grasps his cock and holds it still. Your eyes are locked on the space between your thighs, and you watch as Shamrock pushes you down, lip bitten raw between your teeth as your cunt stretches and his cock disappears inside of you.

The feeling is perfect, his length hot and stretching you in all the best ways. He allows you but a second before he begins to move. The holy knight sets a rough pace that makes you bare your teeth in a silent snarl and hold onto his shoulders for dear life. You squeal when he suddenly shifts his angle, the tip of his cock hitting that sweet spot that knocks the breath out of you.

“There, right there,” you whine, and Shamrock proves that he can listen to orders, hips snapping up as he bullies that spot over and over. You feel that tension begin to ratchet back up, eyes going cross eyed and your cunt clenching around his cock as it drags along your walls.

Shamrock can feel himself getting close to that edge, but he doesn't want this feeling to stop. He could live like this the rest of his life, cock surrounded by your blazing cunt and quivering walls as you sucked him in greedily. He wants to see you stuffed full of his cum, wants to see his seed stick and stay until you are round with his child. You could never leave him, could never stray from his side without him there to take care of you.

The damn breaks and Shamrock snarls, molten cum streaming into your cunt and painting your walls white. He clutches you tightly against him, and you press just as close, hands gripping his shoulders as you cream around his cock, pussy tightening impossibly more and dragging him in as deep as he can go. His hips twitch and shift, fucking back into you with a lazy ease.

The two of you bask in the aftermath, nothing but the sound of obscene wet sounds that come from where the two of you are connected and heavy breathing. You shift in his lap, wanting to get a little more comfortable and press gentle kisses against his throat, humming in pleasure when he shifts under you and his softening cock drags along your walls. He presses his lips to the top of your head, and then snakes a hand under your jaw to pull you up for a kiss sweeter than the ones the two of you have shared so far.

Shamrock is surprisingly gentle as he pulls out of you, helping you stand and wiping away the mess that stains your thighs with the thin sheet of your cot before he pulls your pants back up and ties the string together. He sets himself right afterward and then takes hold of the gilded chain that connects to the golden cuffs around your wrists. The sight has arousal swimming in his lower stomach again, but he pushes it back down for now. He would have plenty of time to properly learn your body once he had you back on his ship.

“Not letting me go this time?” You quip, voice a little rough at the edges as you grin up at the holy knight. Shamrock meets your look with a smirk and shakes his head, tugging the chain he holds in his hand again.

“No. Not this time, darling.”

@mit-suri @sanjisleggy @nocturnalrorobin @mfreedomstuff @sordidmusings

[txttletale]

could you elaborate on your thoughts on boom and 73 yards ( i agree with you i am just struggling to put into words why.)

boom was whatever. the initial conceit of the doctor being trapped and having to stay calm was really cool! i really like that. the ambulances that euthanize you if you're not deemed worthy of medical care and the tacky chatgpt hologram ghosts were both really cool ideas. it just doesn't stick the landing for me, the twists are contrived and fall apart given any thought whatsoever. like what the fuck were any of the soldiers Doing if there just straight up weren't any enemies. it's a twist that sounds cool to say more than it has any meaningful impact on the story or the stakes. i guess 'the arms manuifacturer created a fake conflict' is the intended emtional stakes there but that would hit like a hundred times harder if it was an actual conflict between two factions and people were dying, right? like if anything sending a christian militia to blow themselves up tae fuck on a nowhere planet instead of presumably killing actual living people is an improvement, surely?

also the resolution was dumb as fuck lol i am a huge hater of power of love saves the day shit not because i'm a cynical misanthrope but because it never fails to make me say 'oh so i guess nobody ever loved anybody before lol' and this is no exception like if one chatbot can shut down the whole operation beacuse he loves his daughter are we meant to believe that no other parents or hell nobody who loved anybody else for any reason died in this fake war before? it's cheap and schmaltzy and unearned. anyway the first twentyish minutes of this are all-time great doctor who and gatwa/gibson were incredible in it but it absolutely falls apart into a confused pileo f some of the worst Moffatisms at the end

73 yards on the other hand was incredible! obviously like it requires you to approach it with a different mindset to most of doctor who, right, doctor who usually furnishes you with the big explanation scnee where the doctor says 'well the ghosts were actually particle wave vectorforms created with the necros radiation from the god-king's techsceptre' or whatever--this is the usual narrative mode of sci-fi--but 73 yards is fantasy, right, this is the twilight zone, this is 'wouldn't that be fucked up?'. i interrogate the technical and logical specifics of boom so much when i think about it because that's the language boom is speaking, boom is framing itself within this logical, a-to-b worldview, the satisfying click-together puzzlebox. but 73 yards is a nightmare or a folk tale, right? kate stewart¹ says it herself, 'when faced with the inexplicable, we make up rules and apply them to it'.

so yknow reading it that way it all clicks together beautifully, right, (apart from russel t davies' embarassing swing and miss at Political Commentary in the middle. we get it davies you wrote years and years. we know. trust me we know). the doctor and ruby disrupt the binding circle, free mad jack, and are punished -- the doctor, as perpetrator, with being banished (perhaps in jack's place) and ruby with her worst fear coming true constantly, until ruby defeats mad jack, re-sealing him and fixing what she broke, at which point the circle rewards her by reversing the punishments. and the core horror i think is very effective and unsettling! the idea that there is something that someone could say to turn everyone against you, the closest people to you in your life, your own family, the institutions that are meant to deal with the exact problem you're having--that's fucking terrifying! and yknow i think especially as an autistic trans lesbian something that speaks to me a lot

so yeah. i think that boom establishes its logics and framework and then trips and falls onto its face while 73 yards does the same and then makes perfect use of them. that said i think in 20 years people who are autistic about doctor who will be like 'did you know in the 2020s there were two episodes in a row where the doctor caused the entire plot to happen by stepping on something' and thjatll be the main thing they're remembered for

[louisaguy]

alleyway medic???? Please bestie

THANK YOU FRIEND

(from this ask game)

this was originally inspired by something wing said so shoutout @readwing !! they mentioned lamb saying "I used to patch up men in snowy, back-alley gutters after the KGB had their way with them with nothing more than a bottle of vodka and a lighter." and the image of lamb patching someone up w makeshift first aid supplies in a dingy back alley lit my brain on fire.

so, the crux of this fic is that the dogs have captured river and are torturing him for Reasons (because they're trying to get him to admit to being involved in some shady shit frank is doing, thank u to gav for helping me brainstorm why the dogs would be torturing him)

and-- okay this is a bit much its a bit graphic lol but, my concept was that they had him hanging by his wrists from the ceiling and were using a knife to basically. gut him. like there's many comparisons in here to river's body essentially being like a piece of meat in a butcher's shop, hung from the ceiling and carved up.

but ANYWAY. lamb comes across this of course. he comes in right as the dogs are getting river to scream bloody murder. obviously lamb sees his joe on the edge of death in the dogs' hands and it Beyond pissed so he kills them all lmao. shows off he full extent of what he can do and snaps their necks and saves river.

and so then it's the two of them out in the alleyway behind wherever river was being kept, and lamb has to do some emergency first aid with a couple of rags, a bottle of whisky, and a lighter. it's really not much, just enough to keep him from bleeding out until they can get to somewhere safer.

so then he carries river to a "safe house" (an old apartment in an inconspicuous part of town that once belonged to charles partner and was given to lamb in partner's will) and lamb does a bit more active first aid with the first aid kit stashed there. and then catherine tracks down where they are and comes to find them, meanwhile louisa and coe are teaming up trying to find river but they goof up and get captured by flyte and her dogs (the dogs torturing river are going behind flyte's back, they're ordering directly to diana, so flyte is also trying to figure out what the hell's going on here), and it's. yeah. i dunno idk what happens next.

ANYWAY. here's a snippet from lamb taking care of river in the safe house :3

“Lamb…” River says, or tries to say; his throat is so dry it comes out more as a whistle than anything else. Lamb brings the glass of water back to his lips, and River drinks greedily, downs the whole glass at once. “Lamb,” he says again afterwards, and his hand wraps weakly around Lamb’s wrist. “Mm-hm?” “What…” He looks around, bewildered, like he’s only just noticed that they’re not in that filthy fucking alleyway anymore. “Where are we?” Lamb bites his tongue. “...A safe house,” is the explanation he finally settles on. “Safe… house?” “Yeah.” Lamb stands. “They’re not gonna find you here.” He studies his own hand, closing a fist and opening it again. His fingers stick together, tacky with drying blood. Actually, it’s not just his hand. The whole front of him looks like a bloody crime scene. “Go to sleep,” he orders River, and then ducks into the bathroom to clean himself. Despite the deserted state of the flat, he does manage to find a couple shirts-- and a fresh pair of sheets, wouldn’t you know, not that it’ll help much now with the mattress soaked through with blood, but whatever-- tucked away in a closet, which is good, because the shirt he’s currently wearing is beyond fucking unwearable. He wipes himself off in the bathroom sink, with the brisk efficiency he usually does in the bathroom off his office at Slough House. He doesn’t like bathing, really, which most people would say certainly isn’t a surprise, but he can’t stand the vulnerability of it, doesn’t like being even partially nude for a second longer than he has to be. So he’s quick with his washes, hands running down his arms and up his neck-- Christ, the kid bled fucking everywhere-- to scrub the last bits of dried blood off himself. More or less clean, he emerges, and stops short when he sees River. He hadn’t noticed it much before, when they both were a mess, but now that he’s scrubbed himself spotless… well, isn’t River in a state, too? His stomach wound was the deepest, the most pressing, but there are other little decorations left behind by the dogs’ knife too, adorning his throat, his chin, all down his chest. Each one has a little tail, a rivulet of dried blood painting a portrait of exactly the position gravity had been tugging River’s limp body when the mark was made. Despite himself, Lamb’s eyes go to River’s wrists. Red and swollen and angry from the ropes, too-pale fingers the trademark sign of circulation being cut off. Lamb tuts to himself. That’s going to leave at least semi-permanent damage. River’s still awake, despite Lamb’s command, and he notices Lamb staring, tries to sit up to face him. “No, no, no. Absolutely fucking not,” Lamb chides, coming over to press against his shoulders, push him back down into the pillow. “Didn’t I tell you to go to sleep?” River takes a shallow, dry breath. “Hurts.” “Yeah, no shit, Sherlock.” But his eyes scan the windowsill for the painkiller bottle. Maybe another pill or two would be enough to knock River unconscious. “Open,” he says, when he holds the pills up to River’s closed lips. River obeys without question, his mouth falling open even as he closes his eyes, and Lamb deposits the painkillers without a second thought. The longer he can get the kid to sleep, the less likely he is to pop a stitch, or try to leave the flat, or execute any number of other stupid as fuck plans that River just has a special talent for dreaming up. He was right about the painkillers. Not a minute or two later, River’s breathing slows, and an exploratory poke or two confirms that he is indeed asleep.

wow that was a long snippet lmao sorry about that!! i'm not sure i'll ever finish this fic bc idk how to end it and also i know nothing about medical stuff so i'm sure everything i wrote is wildly inaccurate but. idk there's still some stuff in there i like

thank u for the ask :33

[ashplayz]

Agent One and Two (from helluva boss) x reader (my au) angsty!

Warnings:

Cussing, mentions of murder. (obviously I mean it's helluva boss) kinda spoilers. abuse

Agent One and Agent Two, operatives from the human realm, the face's of the lesser known demon hunting agency; D.H.O.R.K.S. had incredible dumb luck when they had captured Blitz and Moxxie and that ended in fucking disaster. And while most of I. M. P Believed that that their business dealing with the agents was done there was someone else that wasn't so sure. Y/n a worker at I. M. P had heard about what happened and found the fact that the human government was after them somewhat troubling. She hadn't been there when Loona and Millie went to save Blitz and Moxxie but she had heard that quite a lot of bat-shitery went down and she had a bunch that that meant they had something on them that they could use against them in the future and while nobody else in I. M. P seemed at all worried about that. Y/n decided to pay a visit to D.H.O.R.K.S. to tie up any loose ends.

Upon sneaking into the agency Y/n found herself receiving a nasty shock from behind and waking up tied to a chair she figured this is exactly the kind of thing Blitz and Moxxie had to deal with when they were captured. Y/n wasn't worried however she had told I. M. P where she was going and they'd come in guns blazing at the first sign of trouble. She had to admit that while there were certain instances where she had very little respect for anyone in I. M. P she thought it was pretty cool how much each of them care for each other heck they even care for her when she's in shit.

Eventually the agents came in, normally people in hell would find humans to be lowsome and gross in most instances Y/n couldn't help but smirk due to how attractive they both were compared to most humans. "Ah so you're finally awake" the blonde agent said, approaching her. "We're going to get some answers from you hell spawns one way or another" the male agent said, shining the interrogation light directly in her eyes to which she groaned, shutting her eyes "Jesus! It's kinda hard to tell you shit when I'm disoriented from having that shit directly in my eyes!" She snapped. The agents looked at each other then turned off the light. "You know you really didn't have to go this far to get answers you could have just asked." Y/n said, still smirking. Again the agents exchanged looks. "Who do you work for?" The male agent asked. "Think you already met him. He's the dick head in the tacky suit. He's a total jackass. Ring any bells?" She asked. "So he's the one in charge?" Male agent asked. "I mean. I guess he started our company and he's our boss but I wouldn't really say he's in charge of anything in his life he's a fucking mess." Y/n said with a chuckle.

"What exactly is your 'business'? Why are you demon scum killing humans all over?" The male agent asked. "Isn't it obvious? We're hit men. We get hired by rando dick heads that die and end up in hell, to take care of their unfinished business by killing anyone who screwed them over while they were alive." Y/n said. "How did you get from our world from the afterlife?" The blonde agent asked. Y/n rolled her eyes. "Because our boss is screwing some shity demon prince that has the task of basically being in charge of the stars, he has access to the human world in order to fulfill his duties via a book. And our boss fuckes him in order to be able to use his book so we can do our job." Y/n said. The agents looked grossed out and y/n found that hilarious. "Is this him?" The blonde agent said, showing her a picture of stolas. "Yep, but I wouldn't fuck around and find out if I were you two. It's one thing to mess with imps and sinners its another thing to fuck with demon royalty. I'm sure you remember what happened last time you tangoed with that horny bird fuck" Y/n said. The agents exchanged grim looks. They certainly did and they were both plagued by nightmares by the events of what happened on a nightly basis.

"What exactly are you?" The male agent asked. "I'm a sinner. Those two you captured earlier are known as imps. They were born in hell, I on the other hand died and ended up in that shit hole." Y/n said praying they wouldn't ask about her death because they did not need to know that she killed herself. Even the others at I. M. P don't know that. "Why do you have ears and a tail like that wolf girl?" The blonde agent asked. "Because some sinners get a corresponding animal based on how they died. (This next part is just because it's convenient to the plot. I know it's bullshit but she's the same animal of a type of red wolf that can kill itself. I know that's not a thing but it's helluva boss do you really expect it to be logical.) Just then the blonde agent touched her tail. "Hey! As attractive as you two may be for humans. I wouldn't go around touching you two without your permission. So hands to yourself" y/n said pulling her tail away. "Attractive?" The blonde agent asked. Don't pay any attention to that, she's probably just trying to mess with us like their boss." The male agent said.

"Oh trust me. I'm nothing like that red jackass. And I certainly wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it. Now look, I told you two what you wanted to know. The others know I'm here and they'll no doubt be here soon and I'm sure you remember what happened last time you messed with I. M. P so I'd suggest you two suits let me go before those pretty faces of yours get ruined." Y/n said with a flirtatious yet sincere tone. Leaving the agents slightly agitated yet flustered as hell. They begrudgingly untied her, her smirk returning. "Thank you. You know I'm always down to tell you what you need to know if we meet again, there's no need to tie me up in the future I wouldn't run from such pretty little things anyways" y/n said flirtatiously brushing her tail against them both. When I tell you that these two were beet red. 🤭 She was quite amused by how easily flustered the two were she could have continued to flirt with them all day just to see the expressions on their face's.

The male agent attempted to remain stoic, however he could tell how amused she was by his failure to do so. The blonde agent however, found it hard to resist her charm, her face going red whenever her soft tail brushed against her. She was captivated by her sharp e/c eyes and the way she effortlessly twirled a lock of her h/c hair around her finger. She hated herself for her lapse in judgment; she knew they were just filthy demons after all..

Just then a portal opened up and revealed that same wolf girl they had seen earlier. "Y/n did those shit head agents kidnap you too?" Loona asked, not bothering to look up from her phone as she stepped through the portal. Y/n and Loona had an interesting relationship. They had mutual respect for one another at least pretty sure the only reason Loona tolerated her is because she was also a wolf. "Eh no big deal happens all the time" y/n said half speaking the truth it wasn't the first time she was tied up like that but it was under very different and dark circumstances. Loona looked up at her. "Thought you said you were coming here to 'tie up loose ends' from when the dumbasses got themselves captured by those tuxedo wearing fucks. Wouldn't that mean you know killing them?" Loona asked. In turn Y/n let out a low warning growl that definitely confused loona. "Y/n cleared her throat "Change of plans." Y/n said standing between the agents and Loona. "Why the fuck are you protecting those two?" Loona asked. Y/n looked back at the agents who were just as surprised at the fact that she was defending them as Loona was. "Guess you could say they grew on me" y/n said looking back at Loona who was still confused but gave a shrug. The two of them made their way back through the portal. Before one of the agents called out "Your name's Y/n?" The blonde agent asked. Y/n smiled. " Yeah. I'll see you around agent one and two" she said before the portal closed.

(Time skip)

As fate would have it they did in fact run into her again they had been trying to capture a succubus that had been seen on the surface when she showed up. "You two really don't wanna get involved with a succubus. Trust me you'll wake up naked with your self esteem missing." Y/n said. Both agents were shocked to see her again. Truth be told neither of them had been able to get her out of their heads since the last time they met even dispie the animosity towards all things demonic that they claimed to have. but this time, she was hurt. As try as they may they couldn't bring themselves to ignore her pain even when she seemed to think it wasn't a big deal. They snuck her into the agency so no other agents saw her and they tended to her wounds and sheltered her from whatever had caused her harm. They asked what had caused it but she refused to say anything. They couldn't help but notice that she was.. Scared.. After a while she called someone from I. M. P to come take her back and bid the agents fair well. Without flirting with them in the slightest. It was then that the agents realized that they might have accidentally fallen for a demon. But fate has a cruel sense of humor..

Because weeks had gone by. Agent one and two had already had a talk about how they both fell for her and how they already had a lot of care for each other that could be romantic after all. They didn't know when they would see her again but they never imagined it would have happened the way it did. It was a quiet night with no notable activity.. That is until a portal opened up right in their office and who other to fall out of that portal than Y/n.. but she was hurt extremely so.. Worse than the last time. It looked like someone just beat her to death.. She fell to the ground coughing up blood. Someone could be heard yelling as the portal closed. The agents who had been drinking coffee both dropped their mugs and they shattered on the floor. They were both horrified. They both rushed over to her she was too disoriented and in too much pain to hear anything they were saying or to know what they were doing. She passed out a bloody mess on the floor. When she did finally wake up she was clean and bandaged up she heard talking outside the room she was in. She got up and made her way out of the room despite the pain. Only to see the agents sitting on a couch with grim expressions and looked like they were fighting back tears.. "What do you think happened to her..?" The blonde agent asked.. The male agent grimaced.. "I don't know.." He said.. "Do you think she's gonna be okay?" The blonde agent asked..

"It's not like I can die twice," y/n said gently, leaning against the door. They both stood up quickly relieved that she was okay. "I don't see why you two care so much" y/n said. The agents exchanged looks they couldn't bring themselves to tell her how they really felt.. As much as they asked what happened to her she still refused to say anything. Insisting that it wasn't something they needed to worry about. Y/n asked to borrow one of their phones so she could call someone to come get her. She called blitz but he said he was busy spying on Millie and Moxxie and that stolas had the book anyways and since he needed a date to get into Ozzies he asked stolas. He said he'd send stolas to get you first and made an off hand suggestion that maybe she could bring the agents to Ozzies. Considering they're obsessed with demons and the fact that everyone in I. M. P thought y/n and the agents were dating. Y/n begrudgingly said she'd ask them before hanging up. "Heyy how would you two like to see what hells like for a night? My boss is headed to a demon club and wants me to take you two. I mean you like demons right?" Agent two looked at agent one excitedly. They both agreed and Stolas soon showed up to pick up Y/n. Stolas was able to give them demon disguises and agent two was super excited. Y/n changed into something more appropriate for Ozzies and the agents were a blushing mess.

Once they all showed up at Ozzies Stolas and blitz went in together and y/n walked with an agent at both sides. Before they could go in one of the bouncers started hitting on Y/n. So agent one put his hand on her shoulder. They then went in and sat down and the agents were both so in awe about everything, Y/n however was noticeably on edge. It was understandable given what she had just gone through. Her uneasiness made the agents worried. Agent two tried to ease the tension "so is this like a date?" Agent two asked. "I thought you two hated demons." Y/n said with a slight teasing tone. "Are you two even in a relationship?" Y/n asked. "Well… we could-" agent one started saying before he was cut off by Moxxie performing his song for Millie and everything that happens after that. Btw they both thought Moxie's song was adorable.

(Time skip to after all the bull shit that went down with blitz and Stolas at Ozzies.)

Moxxie and Millie had seen that y/n was badly hurt and the agents learned that this happened a lot at first again y/n refused to say anything. But with even blitz coming at her on it she finally broke down and the agents and the others learned the painful truth. That she had killed herself to escape her abuser but that same man wound up in hell and made it his mission to torment her for all eternity. He was literally torturing her.. All of I. M. P got involved and went to go show him what it was like to be tortured. Leaving Y/n alone with the agents they stood by her side providing moral and physical support. It wasn't long until the agents spilled their guts about how they really feel about her and why she said she reciprocated their feelings. It was gonna take a bit for her to be comfortable in the relationship after everything she went through. It was ironic because the agent had sworn to hate all demons, and yet, they couldn't deny the affection they had grown for Y/n. They had seen her at her most vulnerable, and it had made them see her not as a demon, but as someone who had a heart that beat much like their own.

Their relationship was complicated and filled with danger from both sides as they still hunted other demons and well she worked for I. M. P so it wasn't a surprise that it was something that could get messy. And there was the whole she lives in hell and they were on the surface factor too. But despite everything both the agents had enough love in their hearts for her to always make it work and she had enough love for the both of them. In the heart of Hell's underworld, amidst the chaos and the strife, they had found something unique, something precious. They had found love. They had all found each other. And in the end, that was all that mattered. <3

[obsessive-ego]

Just go with it part 2

Musical beetlejuice x reader

You have to meet juno and pretend you and bj are getting married

Nsft sorta, mentions of activity

Part 1

"Babes"

....

"Sugar"

...

"Y/n"

...?

"Y/n wake up, come on babes"

...!

"Beej?" You mumble rubbing your eyes "what's wrong?" You say in a whisper.

He doesnt respond, you turn on the lamp by your bed and check your phone clock

5:42am

You sigh, looking back at the demon, now being able to see him clearly, you freeze upon seeing that the demon was now completely purple, his hair, his beard, his tie, all deep purple.

"What's wrong?" You ask again, more fear in you voice then intended

"Okay y/n" he starts, using your name rather then a pet name was never a good sign "so you remember a few nights ago when that suit came by to see if I was lying about our relationship?"

"He's back?!" You sit up, more awake "wait... wasnt the repercussion to that not that bad? Just some extra work for you?"

Beetlejuice rubs his neck "yeah, thing about that, it's not him... my mother is here, to talk to you personally..." he trails off refusing to look at you

"Your mother...." you repeat feeling your stomach drop

"Yeah..."

"What's gonna happen if she finds us out?" You ask in a whisper

"...who knows with her" the demon spits before looking away.

The two of you remain in silence over the shit beetlejuice has gotten you into it.

Beetlejuice huffs out his nose as his focus goes back to you.

"So y/n, I mean honey~" the demon pulls you up from your bed and into a side hug "ready to meet mommy dearest?" Beetlejuice tried to smile, make light of the situation, but his hair betrayed him, remaining a deep purple, even though he tried his best to plaster a grin across his face for your sake.

You didnt know much about Beetlejuice's mother, other then she didnt exactly win mother of the year, beej only opened up about her a handful of times, long story short, you knew this was gonna be a rough experience for both of you, but mostly Beej.

Beetlejuice drops his jacket around your shoulders, pulling the same ring he gave you to fool the suit, the same tacky, pretty ring, the band was black and white, and resembled a snake, the gem was a brilliant green, your heart swelled at the sight of the ring.

The ghoul drops on one knee, and gently slides the ring onto your middle finger, pausing to kiss your hand before giving you wink, under different circumstances you would die from such a cheesy romantic gesture, but now was not that time, you did appreciate beetlejuice trying to lighten the mood.

"Alright honey, you remember the drill?"

"Yes"

"That's my future wife, let's not keep the bitch waiting" he smiles linking arms with you

Future wife...

You couldnt help but give the ghoul a soft smile at the thought.

Beetlejuice takes a deep breath, smoothing his hair back, wiping the purple away in favour of his default green.

The demon grabs your hand begins to lead you to your living room, you could barely focus over the sound of your heart pounding, who could blame you, you were about to come face to face with someone Beetlejuice was afraid of.

As the two of you head down the hall , she was finally in sight, you felt your stomach drop, in your recliner sat an old woman, dressed completely in red, she had a permanent scowl across her face, her whole presence give off a bad feeling.

"Lawrence, you took your sweet time fetching your fiance" she barked causing beetlejuice to flinch

"Ya know breathers, they like their sleep-" he forces a laugh, purple slowly creeping back into his hair

"Nonsense, it's nearly 6am, that's more then a reasonable time for breathers to wake and start their pointless routines" she waves off, beetlejuice frowns and leads you to the couch, where the both of you sit.

"Its been awhile huh Ma? Like I was saying earlier, it's nice to see you again and-" beetlejuice was babbling

"Zip it" was all she said and beetlejuice clamped his mouth shut and gazed down staring at his feet. "Lawrence, I didnt come here for pointless pleasantries" her eyes meet yours "y/n l/n I dont know what Lawrence has done to you or promised you, but I can assure you he doesnt care about you, and just wants freedom, further more Lawrence, do you honestly think this breather could love you? This game of yours needs to come to an end, there is alot of paper work tied up in this farce of yours"

You were taken back by her words, she really didn't beat around the bush.

"I dont-" you start, voice trembling

"Ma, y/n loves me and I love them, see~" beetlejuice grabs your hand to show his mother the ring, she eyes the ring for a moment, then goes bad to staring daggers into her son, her scowl never faltering.

"Tacky" she huffs, a simple response like that was enough to shut her son down, beetlejuice pulled away from you, pressing his back firm against the couch, lips pressed shut and hands clamped together in his lap.

"As I was saying, Lawrence is a natural born troublemaker, and youd be smart to back out of this farce before he gains life, knocks you up with a life ruining disappointment, and vanishes from your life" she droned as she lights a cigarette, taking a deep inhale, smoke shooting out from her neck.

You swallow hard.

"I would prefer if you didnt smoke in my house, ma'am"

Juno stares at you for a moment, then shakes her head as she puts out her cigarette on your coffee table.

"Ma'am I really do trust beetlejuice, and I love him, this isnt a farce-" you began, but your words were ignored

"If you want to throw yourself into a mess, I wont stop you, I'm not here to save you, but I have to applaud his efforts on tricking someone LEGAL this time for his little game. Even though this mess of yours is going to keep him out of my way for awhile, it doesn't cover the fact that Lawrence's efforts have caused my office nothing but work. And even if this "love" was real the boy ruins everything thing he touches, cant do anything right, having him around only causes headaches, you'll see soon enough y/n," Juno's hurtful words drone on, as if her son wasnt sitting across the table from her.

"Back to the matter, even if you do choose to marry this fool, I wanted to warn you about the mess your getting yourself into, giving him life would only cause you grief, and I dont want to hear it when you get to the netherworld after a suicide his actions caused"

You grit your teeth at that last remark, you knew juno thought poorly of beetlejuice, but did she honestly thing her son was so awful that youd kill yourself over his actions, you felt like you were going to be sick.

"Lawrence, why is your hair purple?"

You glance over to beetlejuice, who infact was completely purple, the deepest purple you've ever seen him wear.

Beetlejuice bites down on his lip, his hands clenched in fists as they sat on his thighs, he was frozen.

"Bee?" You gently whisper as you slowly place a hand on his, the ghoul flinches at your touch, beetlejuice slowly takes your hand in his and gives it a light squeeze.

"Come on Ma, y/n my be dramatic, and get mad at me from time to time, but they'd never kill themselves over anything dumb I'd do, and hell we already talked it over, we dont want kids" the ghoul leans into you for support.

Juno scowls "to remind you both, I'm not here to stop you two, the only thing I'm here for is to warn this foolish breather, and double check to make sure YOU arent mucking about and blackmailing the living again, there is a lot of paper work involved in this little game of yours, and you still havent delt with the paper work of your failed marriage and death by the hands of that poor child you tricked" her eyes narrow down to beetlejuice, juno pauses, then sighs

"Lawrence just come clean, this little game of yours has gone on long enough, even if you didnt blackmail this poor soul into marrying you, do you honestly think they love you? You dont actually think this breather wants you around do you?"

"That's not true, I do-"

You werent able to finish that sentence, with a snap of juno's fingers your mouth is now cover with a strip of duct tape.

"You've honestly fooled yourself into thinking you could be loved didnt you? Pitiful, maybe this breather found you amusing now, but you dont think it's going to last do you?" Her questioning goes on, she was convinced her son was unlovable, you tug away at the duct tape but it refuses to budge, beetlejuice was too focused on his mother's words, to the point where he was starting to believe her, the purple slowly faded from him in favour of white, a color you've never seen on him.

"Lawrence you're little game is over, and you're going to clean up the mess you made, I have a decade's worth of paper work for you to fill out over this farce and every other little issue you caused, I knew from the start this was fake, no living person in their right mind would let you into their life willingly"

A decade's worth of paper work?! Was that so important that she was willing to manipulate her own son into thinking he was worthless?

"Lawrence you are such a screw up, the amount of work your little games keep giving me is coming to an end, you will never be alive, you will never be loved, let alone tolerated, and you are coming back to my office to straighten up ever little issue you have caused, if you think being invisible for a millennia is bad-" she raises her voice with each hateful word.

This duct tape wasnt going to budge, so you went with plan B, you roughly bump into the demon's side to get his attention, beetlejuice looking your way, your eyes grow wide at his expression, he was crying, black gooey tears. The two of you stare at each other what felt like an eternity, Juno's voice no longer reached him, beetlejuice snaps his fingers and the duct tape vanishes from your mouth.

You jump up from you position on the couch "I'm sorry ma'am  but bee- Lawrence isnt worthless, and yes, he can be an ass, and insensitive at times, but I love him and I really do want to marry him! And whatever stupid paper work that is tied up in this, can just fuck off..." your voice tweaks as the ghoulish women sitting across from you stands up, eyes dead set on you.

You werent great with confrontation, and beej knew this, but here you were talking back to his mother, you  his tiny sweet breather talking back to a literal monster. The white from Beetlejuice's hair quickly left in replacement to pink 'I really do want to marry him!' Those words from your lips could have made his heart start beating , tho that was shortly lived when he saw this mother stand, purple took hold of his form once again.

He couldnt let you fight his mistakes alone, though he found it hot that you could be his knight in shining armor.

No, beetlejuice is quick to jump up and link his arm with yours "see ma, this little breather stole my heart, and hell, we've been planning our little wedding for months" beetlejuice snaps his fingers and in a flash his and yours clothes change. Beetlejuice wore a red tux made with crushed velvet, with a lacy front, his whole outfit screamed tacky, but that was him. Looking down at your self, you stifle a laugh, here you were, 6:30am, dressed in a red puffy lacing monster of a dress, in all honesty this wouldnt be your first choice, but now was not that time. Beetlejuice pulls you close, you could swear he could hear how hard your heart was pounding, could you blame yourself? He looked so handsome all dressed up, even if this was fake.

"My, my Lawrence, doesnt that dress look familiar, isnt that the dress you forced that poor child to wear the last time you played this game?" his mother sneers

"Its called a call back, and y/n loves it" he sneers back you nodded in agreement, beetlejuice continues "we're still working on a venue, trying to find a band, believe me, planning a wedding is exhausting, and oh! dont be surprised if your invite gets lost in the mail ma" the demon gives a shit eating grin, you smile seeing beetlejuice has gained SOME confidence back.

"I have no interest in attending your little wedding Lawrence" she spat "it's clear you're not going to budge, and still refusing to take responsibility for your actions, you always were a slacker, and if that's the case, once you die again you will be returning to my office to deal with the mess you made" her focus turns to you "or I could end this little charade by killing your ticket to life"

Your heart stops at her words, she was a demon, Beetlejuice's grip tightens on you, the silence must have been hurting him as much as it did you.

"But I wont, itd be too much a hassle ending a life before it's time"

You sigh in relief, and beetlejuice loosens his grip.

"This will end poorly for the two of you, and I dont want to hear it" juno walks past the two of you, and with a gesture of her hand the livingroom wall opens up to reveal an office full of the dead.

"Lawrence before you join the living I need to deal with one last errand, so I will see you later, and you" Juno's boney finger points to you "you have no idea what you've signed up for" and with that she was gone, the wall closes up as if nothing happened, the two of you collapse on the floor

"Shes gone" you sigh, you've never been more scared in you entire life then you were talking to Juno

"So you like your future mother in law?" Beej jabs you side

"Oh yeah, a delight" you snort, "how long do you think we have before she notices we havent gotten married?" You tone shifts to a more serious note

"No clue, guess you'll actually need to marry me now" he pulls you into a side hug

"What?" You stammer, beetlejuice laughs at your response

"HA! Just pulling your chain there doll, theres no way in hell she's coming back to check, if I know that Bitch shes going to file away those papers for me, there's no way she'll let them just sit there for who knows how long, and this time next week she'll be harping about something else" beetlejuice stands up and pulls you up with him as he sees you struggling to move in that dress, as you raise to your feet you mumble a thanks.

"You know beej, you really do clean up good, I mean, you look very handsome all dressed up" you smile, now that that two of you were safe, you felt it was the right time to say it.

The purple in the ghoul's hair quickly vanishes at your kind words and is replaced with pink.

"Well you know doll, the tux suits me, but it looks even better on the floor, you'll see on our honeymoon~"

"Is that so?"

"Dont believe me? I'll show ya right now baby~" the ghoul pulls you close pressing his chest against yours, as fun as this little exchange was it came to a halt when you yawned.

"What a way to start a weekend, early and terrified, I think I'm gonna get a few more hours of sleep" you grumbled rubbing your eye "you mind helping me out of this dress?" Beetlejuice goes wide eyed at your question, in a flash his hands were groping for the zipper on your back.

"Naughty minx" he purrs before you swat his hands away

"I ment with magic" you breath out, you may be tired, but your genitals were now wide awake.

Beetlejuice grumbles as he snaps his fingers bringing you back into your pajamas and him in his suit.

"Thank you, I guess this wouldnt be good night, see you in a bit" you shrug as you head to your bedroom to get a few more hours of sleep, you glance back at beetlejuice, who was purple once again, you frown

"Beej do you want to sleep with me? I mean you dont need to sleep, I just thought maybe, you wouldnt want to be alone right now?" After seeing his mother maybe he could use some comfort.

There was a long silence as the demon only stares back at you, you panic

"I'm sorry, that was stupid, I'll just, uh, see you in-" you babble as you spin in your heels eager to get away from this embarrassing situation. Before you could hide away in your bedroom you feel the dicey grip if the demon's hand on your shoulder, and in a deep gravely voice he purrs

"Isn't it normal for a husband and wife to sleep together?~" 

you honestly felt a shiver run up your spine.

The ghoul, now only in a pair of boxers has now cuddled up to you  his legs intertwined with yours, his arms wrapped around your waist, hand rubbing up and down your back, and head nuzzled into your chest, the demon now pink, purred feeling your hands scratching his scalp, his mother was wrong, you did love him, truly and unconditionally, maybe not now, but soon, he will marry you.

Bonus

It's been days since you met his mother, and it seems like beetlejuice has been back to stop caring about it, but sometimes you see him just staring off into space.

The ghoul had only one thing on his mind, replaying the memory over and over, of you shouting "I REALLY DO WANT TO MARRY HIM!"

[imgoingtofreakoutnow]

The club

Summary: You follow a new friend in a club and things get an unexpected turn...

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x reader

Other characters: OMC

Warnings: language!, mentions of blood and death and drugs (literal mentions, no one’s really hurt), happy and cute ending

A/n: I had a completely different idea in mind when I started this but I hope you still enjoy it anyway, I do ;)

Not my gif, credit to the rightful owner

Entering the dim club felt like stepping in the devil's nest: dirty walls covered with layers of damaged posters surrounded you as loud music shook the place to its bone together with the shouting of hundreds of people, all pushing around on the dancefloor. Neon lights flashed over every surface their bright, tacky colours, forcing you to constantly squint your eyes.

"I thought you said you knew a nice place" you shouted at the guy leading the way to a corner of the room where was placed a small counter. As you got closer, you noticed thankfully that the music wasn't so loud in that nook.

Your guide sat on a barstool and turned towards you with a smile, dimples appearing on his cheeks. "Why? Don't you think it's nice?"

The slimy floor sticking to your shoes didn't agree with him...

"At least the music is nice" you muttered as another song started and your eyes were drawn to the dancefloor.

There men and women were dancing, or what you guessed it was the way they were grinding all over one another. To you, it was both disgusting and mesmerising seeing how their bodies seemed to fit together so perfectly as they swayed with the strong rhythm of the music, as they couldn't belong anywhere else but with each other...

A pat on your shoulder distracted you and made you turn to... him. You had already forgotten his name - and asking it now would've been very akward - but he was funny, and his light humor was everything you needed.

"Fancy a drink?" he asked, sliding a glass with what looked like orange juice in it. "Vodka and pineapple juice". Close enough. “Hope you like it”

“Thanks”. You weren’t a huge fan of alcohol, so you just let your fingers run on the glass as you watched him taking a sip of his drink. The way his face squeezed at the sour taste made you laugh.

"I need to go to the bathroom real quick" he told you, jumping off the stool, "and then we'll hit the floor"

He winked at you, making an hopeless dance move. You laughed, nodding before watching him make his way through the tight crowd. Your gaze then moved to the drink as your throat felt more and more dry by the minute. You took the glass in your hand: a sip definitely wouldn’t hurt.

"I wouldn’t drink that, if I were you"

Your head tilted quickly towards the man who just spoke. A tall man, with large shoulders, dark hair and a suit. A freaking suit! In all your wanderings through the different clubs of New Orleans, you had never met anyone dressed up like that, not once! But honestly? As long as he looked so good in it, you could excuse him anything.

“Why so, Mr, Suit?” you asked, quirking an eyebrow with a smirk. "You want to offer me one as well?"

"As long as you give me that one"

He gently took the glass from your hand, slightly brushing your fingers, and then tilted it. You immediately noticed a strange powder on the clear bottom that still hadn't dissolved in the drink. At that sight, the color drained from your face.

"Hey!". A cold knife reached your ears. "I hope you're ready to-". Your friend stopped a foot away seeing the glare you shot him. It was a pity it wasn't enough to kill him.

You took the glass from Mr. Suit and got down your stool.

"Y/n, trust me" - he had his hands already up in defense and was slowly stepping backwards - "it's not what it looks like, I would've never took advantage of you. Just to loosen up and-"

You threw the content of your glass in his face. It was terribly satisfying seeing the thick liquid dripping down to the floor, even though seeing his blood would've made you much, much happier.

"Who do you think you are to decide if I want to loosen up?" you hissed, your hands shaking in anger and fear. "You have no right to make that choice for me!"

So many thoughts rushed through your head and thousands of words prickled your tongue. Nevertheless, there was only one thing that found its way out of your mouth: "Fuck you"

Before he could say anything else, before he tried to excuse himself again, you were already running to the door and out of that place.

As you stepped outside you finally were able to breathe again. The chilly night was a bliss after the stale, hot air of the club. However, your hands were still trembling.

"Are you alright?"

As Mr. Suit appeared, you quickly wiped away the tears gathering in the corners of your eyes with a bitter laugh.

"I don't know, how would you feel if someone you gave your trust tried to drug you to do who-knows-what?!"

He remained silent, his eyes glued on you. Scanning them, for a moment you felt like he had an answer to your question stuck on the tip of his tongue, ready to be told and surprise you. But it was just a moment.

"I'm sorry". You shook you head with a sigh, rubbing your eyes. "I shouldn't be angry at you, you're the one who saved me". A small smile found his way to your lips. "Thank you for that"

"It was the least I could do". His lip quirked upwards and his face suddenly lost all his seriousness to become pure light to your heart. "If you want, I could offer you a hot chocolate to help you recover from what happened. I know a nice cafe nearby"

The invitation caught you by surprise. "I- I would love to..." you started, "but maybe not tonight. Right now all I want is to drown in my bed sheets and just forget... everything"

He nodded. "I totally understand"

You smiled and then waved to catch the attention of a taxi driver. It didn't take long before one stopped.

"Thank you again for what you did" you said opening the cab door. “You’re probably the only thing worth remembering of tonight”

He smiled, reaching in one of his pockets before handing you his card. “If you ever want to reach me for that chocolate or for a talk, here’s my number”

You glanced at the piece of paper, his name written with elegant black swirls on the white textured card.

“I will take it into consideration, Mr. Mikaelson” you said with an overly formal tone as you sat in the backseat. “Goodnight”

“Goodnight” and he closed the cab door for you as the engine started again.

During the ride back home, you fidgeted the card in your hand and even when you were nicely tucked in your bed you still held it, your eyes drawn to that small rectangle of paper.

“Elijah Mikaelson”. The sound of his name rolled on your tongue like warm honey... you were definitely going to text him the following day.

Then, without even realizing it, you fell asleep, his card on your pillow and his name on your lips.

Tag list: @elijahswife @ronniemikaelson @hellotvshowtrash @raemikaelson @imaginearyparties @elijahs-wife @mikaelson-emma @dumble-daddy (tell me if you don't wanna be tagged💞)

[mxvladdy]

heyy i just read your fic Case of the Munchies on ao3 and im Loving it!!!! its amazing!! i was wonder if youre accepting requests and if you haven’t done it could you write the same for the rest: mammon, levi, satan, belphi, dia, barbatos and smth for simeon and luke (ofc platonic) like how angles have a true form and that means they can never relax around mc and how solomon has so much power at his fingertips he can just snap and end them or smth like that? pretty please and thank you!!!!

A/N: Of Course! Of Course! I already did Mammon and Levi HERE so I’ll do the other four in this request! You sent me a lot of good ideas and I’ll sprinkle them out into other requests soon!

Hope you like it!!

Case of the Munchies prt 3!

Word Count: 4.2k

Characters: Satan, Belphie, Diavolo, Barbatos

TW: Mentions of eating and cook humans, very mild gore

Satan

As the only full-blooded demon of the seven, he has thought about it...just hypothetically of course. When you were new to the Devildom he did find your scent more appetizing than the others. It’s a good thing he has the most restraint and control of all his kin, especially when it comes to his more base urges.

He doesn’t hide this knowledge from you. It’s readily available in the library and his own room in the history books. He just won’t bring it up. So if you don’t say anything, he won’t either. What would he say anyway? “Yes, I’ve thought about it, up until it was outlawed it was a staple of our diet after all…” Ye, probably not the best thing to say.

When you finally brought it up he was exasperated. Did you have to bring it up during the few hours he had alone with himself? He wasn’t going to lie but the thought of hurting your feelings would just about do him in.

He will alleviate your worries if you have any. If Satan was anything, he was genuine.

Mini Fic

His wine curdles in his stomach, turning sour along with the take-out he had nabbed for the two of you to enjoy tonight. Drinks and dinner were becoming a staple in your T.V. night tradition. If one of you had had a rough day you would drop by your favorite shop of the hour and pick up a meal to share while you vent.

Today in particular had been a shit day for him. Failed experiment after failed experiment, and one bottle that didn’t explode on impact with the potion he dropped. Sigh. At least your comforting words soothed his wounded pride a little. You chuckle at his escapades glad to see he is not hurt at least. It was nice to have someone to see the humor in something that normally would have dampened his mood.

“You’re a pest.” He laughs at you while snapping his takeout chopsticks in half to use. “I need sympathy-hours of work wasted.” You snort into your own bowl of udon.

“You need words of praise like Beel needs another stomach.” Satan gasps in mock insult pointing a sauce stained chopstick at you.

“How dare you insult your host! After I toiled over this meal of-” What did he get exactly? Honestly, when he placed the order he was near boiling with rage at his careless fumble. It was to be a surprise for you, something to give you a bit of magic while supervised by himself. He knew how frustrated you were with your lack of magical ability in class so he wanted to gift you something grand. Now he has to wait months to try again.

Ah, well...nothing ventured nothing gained as they say.

You watch him sulk over his soup dumplings, his mile away from the comfort of your company and his room. “Come on blondie.” You poke him with your foot before burying them under his pajama-clad thighs on the couch. “Eat your ‘hard earned’ meal before I do.” You snatch up his D.D.D forgetting your own food for a moment to set up your favorite streaming service to cast to his small T.V. “Want to watch a bunch of humans fail miserably at baking?”

"I thought you would never ask."

Satan feels you stiffen in his arms two hours into your bake-off marathon. Your takeout boxes are cold and forgotten on his coffee table, a bottle of wine gone between the two of you. He glances down at you curious.

You were transfixed on the screen. The novice baker on screen was struggling to keep his monstrosity of a cake upright. It was the annual Halloween episode and this fool went for a Silence of the Lambs inspired cake. A good concept really, but very poorly executed. The fake body parts and sugar blood weighted the pastry down dangerously. If he were, to be frank, the cake was also tacky as hell. Heh, he'd have to try to make this for Lucifer.

"Does his abuse of the piping gun offend you that much?" He jokes wrapping an arm around you.

Your laugh is breathy and lacks its usual warmth. "It is excessive isn't it?" You look up at him. "Hey, Satan-have you ever eaten people before?"

"Uhh…" Great, how eloquent. This came out of nowhere, did Lucifer set you up to this? No-no you wouldn’t. Would you hate him if you knew? “I have.” He admits through clenched teeth waiting for your reaction.

“Didn’t Diavolo ban it?” He can tell you are doing the mental math in your head.

He chuckles dryly. “Well, you never asked if I did it legally.” You move away from his touch and pause the show. “I mean...I did it legally! ” His mouth runs freely, his brain screaming at him to shut up.

“Satan.” You cross your arms unimpressed.

“It was a new law and I never meant to eat it for the most part. It was at a time where I was still struggling to control myself.” Young and stupid as Lucifer had said defending him every step of the way when he would slip up. Was it sold on the black market now? Yes. Did he know how to get it? Sure, but he would never nor would he tell you about it either.

You nod thinking about his words. “I can empathize.” Oh, thank the Devil. “Have you thought of eating me?”Ahhh. “Oh my God, you have.” You chuck a pillow at him with a laugh.

He catches the pillow and clutches it to his fiery hot face. “Everyone did at first!” If he was going down then he was going to take every one of his brothers down with him. “I wasn’t going to act on it! It was a spur of the moment-why are you laughing!”

“Sorry, sorry.” You wipe at the tears in your eyes wishing you had your phone to take a picture of his blushing face. “I kind of figured you did.”

Satan looks at you incredulously. “Shouldn’t you be a bit more torn up over this?”

You shrug. “After everything we’ve been through? I admit it was a shock to think at first but I mean, you would have done it by now right?”

“Well, thank you?” He flops back on the couch, still clutching the pillow to act as a barrier between you two. He’ll take it as a compliment.

You scoot close, nudging his knee with yours. “You ok?” He nods. “Can I touch you?” He nods again eagerly. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and squeeze. “Sorry, I made you uncomfortable.”

Satan chuckled, dropping the pillow to hug you back. “It’s ok.” He peaks your forehead. “Now, with that out of the way. Shall we finish this?” He swipes up his phone to hit play. You nod, flinging your legs over him to snuggle closer. “Good, I’m dying to know how he tries to save that thing. I’m putting money on icing.”

“You know.” You break the silence once more, unable to stop yourself. “I wouldn’t be opposed to being eaten...in some ways.”

Belphegor

After your first *ahem* encounter, he doesn’t bring up the whole food thing. He is afraid that if you learned about it, it would be the last strike for you and his relationship. Perhaps it’s paranoia on his part but better safe than sorry.

In all honesty, he didn’t eat it that much anyway. Killing humans was something he did often in his youth as a demon. A stupid attempt at revenge on his part. It filled the holes in his hearts to hurt those he believed killed his sister.

But to eat their flesh? Disgusting. He tried it a few times and it turned his stomach with every mouthful. He just hated them too much to even stomach them. He’s mellowed out with time but still never got a taste for it.

When you asked it was a shock but welcomed in a way. Like he could finally get this weight off his shoulders every time he looked at you.

Mini Fic

“It’s gross.” Belphie yawns, jumping up to sit on the high garden wall. He bends down to help you up placing you gently next to himself. The wind catches you by surprise threatening to topple you back from the wall before he rights you. He tosses his sweater over you with a nod of satisfaction.

You snuggle into the fleece lining burying your nose into the fabric. It smelled of elderberries and honeysuckles. Belphie watches you curl up into his side with a fond smile. “Seriously, you all are nasty.”

“Ouch!” You push his shoulder with a grin. “I feel like I should be offended on behalf of all humans.”

Belphie snorts, looking up into the bright colors of the night sky. “Good. Be offended. You, humans, are slimy.” You squawk indignantly. “It’s true, never in all my years would I willingly ingest it.” He shudders theatrically.

“Rude.”

“Shouldn’t you be happy? Lest I eat you?” He growls playfully, taking a swipe at you. He pulls you close to kiss the pout off your face. He stops only when your face is hot and your smile threatens to pull a muscle. “I’ll keep you safe, always.” He vows resting his chin on your head.

“Do you think other demons would try to eat me?”

“Have you met my twin?” He teases. He takes your jab to his ribs with a smile. “But if one of those lesser demons even tries to breathe in your direction I’ll kill them.”

“Ok, Mister sleeps till dinner.” You joke. His vow warms your heart a little, chasing away the small bit of fear that had rested itself in your chest. You saw how some demons looked at you at R.A.D, the longing and hungry looks got to be a bit much sometimes. A few older demons would discuss it loudly when they knew you were close by. Apparently, it was a long standing tradition of demons eating humans both body and soul when a pact was concluded.

Imagine what those brothers would do to them…

You shake your head hugging Belphie closer. You had nothing but his word that he would keep you safe, yet that was enough for you. Besides, he wasn’t one to follow the rules even at the best of times.

“I’m serious. You're off limits for everyone.”

You nod into his shirt, closing your eyes to enjoy the peace of the moment. “I’ll hold you to it.”

Diavolo

It is so far from his mind that when you say something it is like a rug was taken out from under him. He could be diplomatic about it, but you deserve better than a half-truth.

He was a wild child in his youth. Sometimes he would overindulge in his father’s heritage and gorge himself on his newfound powers and privilege. He would dine with the elders and eat with abandon under their proud eyes.

He regrets it now, in your company it brings up a slurry of emotions. Sometimes when he looks at you he sees flashes of his past behavior.

The urge is stronger in him than the brothers, a constant nagging tug in his guts, but he is strong. Stronger both in willpower and sheer physical prowess than them so the pull is more of an annoyance than a burning need. He can temper the hunger in other ways if need be *wink*

He fears what you might think of him if you ever found out the truth, but however you take it he will handle it in stride. He loves you too much not to.

Mini Fic

Dinners, when Diavolo could eat alone, were a rare and special treat. The solace of just being allowed to exist without constantly checking his posture or presentation was a blessing, just him, his thoughts, and a good meal. It was nice to have no paperwork to worry about staining this time or a tedious meeting where he couldn’t savor his meal. No, no this was good. He looks down at his heavily laden plate and smiles. Well, almost… Pulling out his phone he snaps a quick picture and sends it to you with a simple question. Join me?

Private meals were wonderful, but with you, they were perfect.

You arrive faster than he expected, flushed face and clutching a stitch in your side from rushing over. He almost felt bad before he saw the eager look in your eyes. Barbatos helps you with your school bags and coat before placing another plate of food across from the young lord. He winks at the prince before disappearing back through the door.

“Thank you for the invite!” You beam taking your seat across from him. “I hope you don’t mind that I'm not dressed for the occasion. I was just wrapping up a study session with the boys.” You look down at your rumpled lounge clothes.

Diavolo waved his hand disregarding your concerns. “I would emulate you if I had the time.” He looks at his own pressed school uniform. He had another meeting this evening, much to his distaste. “You look rather comfortable.” You smile in delight before tucking into your own plate.

You eat in a comfortable silence reading the room well enough to tell that he wished for some company but not needless chitter-chatter. Barbatos arrived moments after you put your fork down and left with the plate leaving behind a delicious smelling hot drink. You couldn’t put your finger on the flavor but it tastes spicy like cinnamon and coats your throat like warm honey.

Whatever was in the drink seemed to work some magic on the prince. His shoulder droop, his back sinking into the chair as his legs stretch out till they are close to brushing against yours. He starts talking over the drink, eyes slowly lighting up with delight. You drink, nodding along with him as he builds up steam. It was nice to see him so unguarded and light. You listen to him talk about simple innocent topics. You knew how he tried to have these conversations with the others to no avail. The brother’s always tried to stay clear of him, and Lucifer simply dismissed these things most days. Barbatos and the angels were a bit better but still listened mostly to placate him.

“Ah!” Diavolo stops mid-sentence as his door opens once more Barbatos holding a small platter in his gloved hand. Dia claps his hands in delight. “I’ve been wanting to have you try this with me for forever. The human palate is so different, but I hope this is tasty.”

“What is it?” You eye the covered plate curiously.

Dia says a word in infernal. It is harsh and guttural in his throat but his delight was evident in his tone. “It is like...a roasted nut? Sorry, it is difficult to explain but it has been a favorite treat of mine since I was a boy. I hope you like it too.” He opens the lid with little ceremony and tilts the bowl to you. Inside were several golfball sized pods piled on top of each other. Even from across the table you could feel the molten heat radiating from the porous black shell. It looked...ugly. Like a hunk of dried lava. You eye it suspiciously as Diavolo picks one up with his bare hands and bits it. The shell cracks under his sharp teeth, a fang catching in a weak spot with a noise that makes you shiver. Underneath the thick casing, you could see a dark red and fleshy core. He hums in delight pulling put the meat of the seed and discard the shell pieces onto an empty plate. He makes quick work of the innards already reaching for another by the time you casually pick up a seed.

The seed itself was dense and warm to the touch. You squeeze it, noting that the porous coating felt like a mass of steel in your hand. “Dia-how do I open it?” No way you could bite it, not without breaking your jaw in the process.

“Allow me.” He takes it from you and effortlessly cracks it. “It is a tradition to break them with teeth, instead of hands or utensils. Something about a show of strength. I just find it fun.” He shrugs, handing you the broken seed.

“Fun!” You marvel at his pearly fangs. “Those are some big chompers.”

“All the better to eat you with my dear.” He chuckles.

You blink in shock, eyes widening. “Would you? Eat me?”

Diavolo’s smile drops. “No.” He lies on reflex, his political nature kicking in. “No-no wait.” He shakes his head. “I...at a time would have without hesitation.” He feels you recoil. “It was common practice back in the day. To the common demon it was a great meal and for the ruling class a show. He looks down at the broken fragments of shell on his plate. Breaking the shell was far too reminiscent of other things. He squashes the unwanted wave of memories coming up. Instead, he looks up at you.

You sit quietly mulling over his words. You haven’t run yet. “Why did you stop?”

He leans back with a loud exhale. Why did he stop? There were many reasons, none he wished to divulge into at the moment, but he had to say something. “I grew up, and began to resent and regret it.” He used to read human stories of demons and his kind. They hurt their characterizations of him and his people. Yet, they had all been scarily accurate. He wanted to prove that they weren’t stagnating beasts, slaves to their desires. Even if it wasn't a popular opinion.

“I see.” You pick up the seed again. “Thank you for telling me. You didn’t have to.”

“But I wanted to, and to apologize… such admissions must have ruined your appetite. If you wish to retire-”

“Is it weird if it didn’t?” You cut him off. You felt-not apathetic to the knowledge but close to it. It confirmed a lot of things for you and put certain things in perspective. You still felt safe with him even with this new bit of knowledge. Without a second thought, you pop the treat into your mouth. You gasp in delight. The flavor and texture were not what you were expecting, but was delicious all the same. “Can you open another for me?” You push your plate over to him.

“Of course!”

The food was as wonderful as his company.

Barbatos

You knew he cooked it. He probably knows a million different ways to prepare a human. He is also very blunt about his dabblings in the market.

He doesn’t eat it, hasn’t ever. He sees no reason to, especially since he doesn’t need to eat anyway there is no temptation. He did find the meals he created beautiful though.

Once he lived for the praises of the courts and his young lord. He was a master at all mediums he cared to work with. Time, decorum, or of the flesh.

He is 100% unashamed of his past with the dark side of the Devildom’s history. In fact, he is damn near proud of it. He is a demon and it was a part of his life, if that frightens you, well there is nothing he can do about it.

He’ll entertain your questions and will try to put any lingering worries at ease. Just don’t expect to be coddled when he does.

Mini Fic

Barbatos had very few personal pleasures in his life. His schedule simply didn’t have the space for such things. So why even bother looking for a pastime. It wasn’t until Diavolo gifted him with an old worn cookbook did he find it.

Cooking was a necessity for his prince, but with that little book, it became something he looked forward to doing. Slowly, he began to seek them out, filling his growing quarters with cookbooks and loose-leaf slips of paper. He enjoys reading them. Each book was a little time capsule into the cook's life and memories. Could a mix of spices really remind someone of the arid heat of their motherland? Or does following a certain way of aging meat really honor the writer's late grandfather’s memory? He tries them all, each recipe a little invasion to a happier time.

He wrote his fair share of cookbooks too in his day. Simple modifications to things the young lord liked to the odd machinations of his own imagination. He got good at experimenting with flavors and textures over the years, mastering certain cooking techniques and flavors just for fun. He didn’t share many of them, a lot of his recipes were just too complicated for most. Luke was allowed to look at his pastry books only. The little cherub was enamored with his techniques and wanted to learn as much as he could in the short amount of time he was in the Devildom. Admirable, but he made sure to keep some of his...less savory books away from the boy. He shudders to think what Simeon would do if he scarred the young angel.

You are the only one who has full access to his collections. Whether you liked to cook was inconsequential to him. He simply enjoyed sharing this interest with you. Some nights you would take it upon yourself to be his “sous-chef”. Which meant you sat in the corner of the kitchen and read out the ingredients and steps for a recipe he knew by heart. Sometimes you would add in extra steps in an attempt to stump it. Cute...but ultimately failed each time. So, most nights when you tagged along to the kitchens you just flip through his collection, reading his immaculate scribblings crammed into the corners of the pages or where he scratched out certain ingredients for more demon-appropriate foods and more sustainable options.

You had gone through many beautiful books before you found it. The cookbook was small and inconspicuous compared to most. Just a simple black cover with a well-worn spine. What made you take notice of it was just how dusty it was. That wasn’t like him to do. Barbatos would never let something get so dirty. You wished you never had opened it. You weren’t stupid by any means, but after reading a few pretty graphic recipes it had unsettled you. So you withdrew from Barbatos trying to forget about the book tucked away deep in the bowels of your school bag.

“You’ve been distant.” You choke, hand flying up to your chest as you swear your heart skipped a beat. Damn demon. Should put a bell on him. “What’s wrong?” His eyes are piercing, cutting away at your feeble defenses.

“Nothing…” You fiddle with your bag’s strap. Your eyes drop to the floor taking in the differences between his polished shoes and your scuffed boots.

“Of course not…” You could hear the skepticism in his voice. “I trust that if there was something wrong you would feel safe enough to confide in me.” His words hit like a ton of bricks on your shoulders. He sighs seeing that his words got no reaction. “Please?”

Wordlessly you rummage in your bag and thrust the book into his chest. “Sorry. It shook me up more than I thought it would.”

Ah. He knew this book all too well. For a time it had been his favorite, one to pull out with Diavolo had guests or a deal that needed to be sealed. He accepts the book, noting how much your hands shook. “I understand.” He slips the book into his breast pocket making a mental note to hide it in one of his lesser used rooms. “Would you like to discuss this? In my room perhaps?” You follow with a timid nod.

“Where shall we begin?” Barbatos asks the moment he closes the door to his room.

“You don’t seem perturbed.” You frown. Barbatos shrugs, pulling the book out and opening it. He had a lot of good memories stored here. Some of these were still considered signature dishes, oftentimes a visiting dignitary would lament to him about the good old days when he could show off his craft when flesh was plentiful. He takes pride in that still to this day even. For as much as he loved you, he would not be ashamed of this.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” You shake your head when he says as much. “It just confused me. Do-do you see me as food?”

“I never saw humans as food, no more than I see demons or angels as it.” He picks at an imaginary bit of lent from his pant leg. “As for seeing you as food no. No matter how sweet your lips are, or how honeyed your words can be.” He smiles, taking impish delight in your squirming. “I merely did my job as a butler for my lord.”

“Oh- sorry for not coming to you sooner.” You felt foolish now. Barbatos waves it off, pleased to have this issue put aside so quickly and cleanly. “Wait-" You gasp as his words finally sink in. “Have you prepared angels before?”

He flashes you a mischievous smile putting a single finger up to his lips. “Perhaps~ do you wish to read that too?”

[andmyvape]

"Please tell me you're not wearing that."

Elayn looked down, then back up with a wide grin. She tugged at her bright rainbow suspenders with her thumbs. "What, not tacky enough?"

Serana gave the ensemble another slow scan. "No, it's… definitely tacky. The combat boots with the khaki shorts is a nice touch."

The grin got wider as she stuffed her hands into her pockets. "They're going to be throwing candy, and I wasn't anywhere near prepared enough last time."

Serana rolled her eyes, but softened it with a smile. "You're ridiculous."

"Isn't that why we're dating?" her girlfriend asked as they headed out the door.

She took a moment to lock up while Serana laughed. "'Careless Whisper' on a boom box outside my window. I can't believe my dad didn't kill you. I know you stole that, by the way. We both went to see that movie when it came out."

"They marketed it as a romcom!" Elayn protested.

They were in the car now. It would be a trick to find parking, but they were running early thanks to Serana's habit of scheduling everything. Elayn was more the type to go with the flow, but living together had her adapted enough that the flow she went with was largely dictated by Serana's schedule. As a research chemist, she worked interesting hours at times, but Elayn was a good roommate, she cooked and cleaned, mostly because she had the time. Lacrosse wasn't a well paying sport compared to something like soccer, but the off seasons gave her plenty of time to maintain their loft. 

"Five dollars an hour?" Elayn griped as the machine printed out their ticket. 

"Homophobia strikes again," Serana said with mock solemnity. 

She snorted and wrapped an arm around her girlfriend's waste. "Which park did you say this thing started in again?" 

It was a little place surrounded by tall buildings, but it was a green patch in a city largely made out of grey. It being Pride Month, the grey was broken up by rainbows. The two wandered around as they waited for the parade to start. 

Well, at least, they started to wander when Elayn caught sight of a dog and all but dragged her girlfriend over to say hi. 

"What's his name?" she asked, so full of enthusiasm she practically floated. "Can I pet him?" 

The dog's owner, someone with a short haircut in a crop top that was orange, yellow, and white striped, nodded. "If he lets you. Sometimes he's not so-- oh gosh," they said, eyes wide as they watched Elayn kneel down and offer a hand to sniff that was immediately accepted. "You must have good vibes." 

"She's a dog person," Serana said with a laugh as the dog put its front paws on Elayn's shoulders so he could lick her face. 

"What's his name?" she asked through slobbery kisses. 

The butch grinned. "That's Duke, I'm Cas. It's nice to meet you!" 

The two introduced themselves just in time for a volunteer to come up with bottles of water. "Our city got voted best water in the state," she said cheerfully. "Take a few, it's gonna be a hot one." 

Before the march, there were speeches. The first was an introduction to the city's first pride parade since the 80s. The second was from a drag queen inviting everyone to the show later that night. Finally, the speeches were closed by an Episcopalian pastor trying to make up for the rest of Christianity's sins. 

"It's starting!" Elayn said excitedly when the crowd started to funnel out of the park. 

The march went down the sidewalk for a few blocks. Traffic was halted and the waiting cars honked while passengers waved. Elayn waved a lesbian flag, Serana had a bi flag, and the two of them dragged a rainbow striped cooler. 

"Mom! Mom!" Elayn heard behind her. "Look, it's two cicadas going at it!" 

She glanced behind her. There was a set of twins, about twelve years old, one of them draped in a trans flag and holding the cicadas that were indeed trying to reproduce. Elayn snorted and hit herself in the face trying to keep a laugh contained. "You like bugs, huh?" 

The girl in the trans flag beamed. "They're my favorite! Well, except for tarantulas, but Mom won't let me have one." 

"The rabbit gets out of its cage enough." The way the girl's mom said it, this was an age old argument. "I don't want to squash it when it ends up in my shoe."

"I had a snake when I was growing up," Serana chimed in. "A corn snake that never got out." 

The twins turned out to be part of a family unit. One twin was trans, and their older brother was too, and as Elayn found soon, was very excited to start HRT. "Get a Gc2b binder," she said. "When I'm feeling like a flat day, it works really well." 

The boy, a younger fourteen, practically floated with excitement. "I will!" 

Serana chatted with the parents while Elayn occupied the kids. "Have you folks been to Pride before?" 

Their mom, a woman named Chelsea, shook her head. "Nope, both kids came out last September and they've been talking about the festival ever since." 

"You seem like really supportive parents," Serana said. It carried the weight of one speaking who has not had contact with their parents since high school. 

Chelsea could tell, and she opened her arms for a hug that Serana was more than happy to accept. 

The march was only about a mile long, and it ended in another park. Elayn craned her neck and said, "I think I see the beer line, wait here?" 

"We will!" said the girl, who was very proud to be named Luna now. 

Serana and Chelsea shared a grin. "I guess we'll wait here," the mom said. 

It was a bit of a line, which was probably not a good thing, but apparently people were restricted on how many drinks they could buy, so at least there was that. While Elayn waited, she was joined by two people wearing pronoun pins that said "she/her". 

Elayn's jaw dropped at the sight of one of the girls' dress, which was a flowing, fae like ensemble. "Holy shit!" she said. "You look amazing!" 

She blushed and ducked her head as she smiled. "Thank you, I got it from Amazon." 

"It's her first Pride," her friend added.

That just amazed Elayn more. "With the sparkles and the green eyeshadow, I wouldn't have guessed. Everything you've got going on is just amazing."

"Thank you!" she squeaked. 

Elayn wasn't alone in thinking the dress was gorgeous. Another person came up to compliment it, and they had such dope tattoos that Elayn could not help but comment. 

"The guy that did them is great," they gushed. "He does blacklight work too!" 

So she got a website saved on her phone for the next time she really wanted to get a tattoo on top of the three she already had; scrollwork on her bicep, a wolf on her shoulder blade, and a small date on her wrist that was the day she met Serana. 

When she got back to her girlfriend and the others, an IPA in hand that was frankly piss, she told them about the girl in the fae dress. 

"I saw her!" Serana exclaimed. 

"Amazon." 

"No way." 

Next was food, especially if she was going to drink a beer. Assuming she actually drank it. "There's some food trucks," she pointed out. "I could go for a corndog." 

"I'm going to get some mac and cheese," Serana said. 

"Mom! Mom!" Luna's twin brother, Ian, tugged at his mom's sleeve. "Can we get pretzels?" 

Chelsea sighed good-naturedly. "I suppose. Do you two want to meet up after?" 

"Over by the stage?" Elayn suggested. 

The group separated. She found the line for corndogs and funnel cake. While she was waiting, the woman ahead of her glanced her way, so Elayn said, "Howdy!" 

"Hey there, hun!" She clapped her on the shoulder. "Having a good time?" 

"I am," she said with a grin. "Everyone here is so nice. There were some moms back there handing out hugs!" 

"Well, I'm a mom, would you like a hug?" 

"I would love that." 

It was a lovely hug, the woman was warm and smelled floral. When they separated, she said, "I'm Elayn! It's good to meet you. Can I get you a corndog?" 

As she pulled out her wallet, the woman waved her money away. "It's Nessa, and actually, I'd like to buy you a corndog." 

"You don't have to--" 

Nessa laughed. "I miss my daughters, you'd be doing me a favor." 

They chatted while the line went down, about lacrosse and about university. It turned out Nessa's two daughters went off to college in other cities, so it had been a while since she saw either. "I had a son," she said. "But now I have a very happy daughter, and I'm so proud of her." 

"I wish I had a mom like you," Elayn said, thinking about growing up foster care. 

Nessa grabbed her in another hug. "Now you do!" 

When she got back to Serana and the others, they were listening to the music booming from the speakers. She had to yell to tell the group about her new mom. 

Chelsea looked a little sad, because she could connect the dots, but Luna and Ian were too busy freaking out over the cotton candy Nessa had bought her too. 

Not long after, the stage was occupied. Elayn was chatting with Luna with her back turned, so she missed it until Serana tapped her shoulder and turned her around. 

"Holy shit!" She hollered and clapped at the sight of a gorgeous, sequin clad drag queen in four inch heels doing a backflip off the stage and onto grass. "Holy shit!" 

As it turned out, the drag queens took tips, and it was at that point that Elayn knew she was about to spend a lot of money. Each queen that performed, and there were many, got a five in exchange for the sheer joy Elayn got when the queen before her touched her hand. 

When there was a break in the performances, she went back to Serana, who had a smirk on her face. "Should I be jealous?" 

Elayn cupped her face, and in a fit of sheer enthusiasm, kissed her girlfriend soundly, to the delight of the twins who hooted. "Don't worry, babe," she teased. "You're the only queen for me." 

"Flatterer." Serana swatted at her chest, but the smile on her face was pleased regardless. 

It was all a blur from there. Fair food, loud music-- and Elayn found beer that wasn't piss! She taught the twins a new vocabulary of cuss words the moment she found out their mom was fine with foul language. They parted around five in the afternoon, when a voice through a megaphone warned attendants that the festival was about to start catering to adults. There was a concert with more drag queens, this time in much more risqué outfits that Elayn would have given a kidney to see on Serana. 

When she said something, her girlfriend got a light in her eye. "Really now?" she purred. "Maybe for your birthday." 

By 11pm, Elayn was high on the party atmosphere and a few beers. The festival was over, and the walk back to their car would be a trick. "Did you have fun?" she asked Serana as they walked hand in hand. 

She got a kiss on the cheek. "I'm so glad I have you. When are we getting married?"

"When I figure out how to surprise you with a ring." 

[bi-naesala]

Demonstration

Fandom: Yakuza Rating: E Warnings: / Relationships: Kasuga Ichiban/Zhao Tianyou Characters: Kasuga Ichiban, Zhao Tianyou Additional Tags: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Established Relationship, Rough Sex, First Time Bottoming, Nonbinary Zhao Tianyou Summary:

Ichiban demonstrates to Zhao how he felt about him the first time they met.

(Also on AO3)

Every time Ichiban and Zhao have been intimate, they’ve always kept things quite simple, gentle even.

They never thought about it too much; it’s just that they enjoy each other, nothing more, and they don’t really care about what they do, as long as they are together and have both a good time.

It’s almost weird considering how their first meeting went. Of all things, Ichiban would’ve never imagined that he was going to end together to the person who threatened to kill him with a smile on their face, but so is life, and he couldn’t be happier about it.

“Oooooi earth to Kasuga-kun!”

Contrary to what Zhao might believe, Ichiban doesn’t jump hearing their voice calling out for him. Nope. Not at all.

“H-Hey! Zhao! What is it?”

Zhao shoots him an unimpressed look. “You haven’t been listening to a word I said, haven’t you?”

“Huh…” Ichiban smartly replies. “Sorry?”

“You’re unbelievable,” Zhao mutters, shaking his head, but despite their words, there’s a smile on his face, finding Ichiban’s behavior endearing. “And what were you thinking about that was so important that you’d stop in the middle of the street like a lunatic?”

Oh right! They went out grocery shopping for the barkeep. And here Kasuga was, lost in his thoughts…

“Oh, nothing much, really…”

“C’mon, I’m curious now. Pretty please tell me?” Zhao insists. Oh hell, Ichiban can’t resist that tone of his.

  “Just… Wait,” he mutters, taking Zhao by the arm and guiding him away from the main road, entering in one of the smaller streets. If he truly has to answer to Zhao, he’d rather do it in a place where they can get a modicum of privacy, which would usually be at Survive, but this is close enough. At least there’s nobody there for the moment.

Zhao hasn’t said anything about Ichiban’s behavior, not even a little word of teasing, for which he’s grateful for.

“Should I get worried?” he asks though. Considering how Ichiban’s acting, it would be safe to assume that this is something serious.

“Oh? Oh no! Not at all!” Ichiban’s quick to reassure him. “I was just thinking about… well… about us.”

Now Zhao looks extremely curious. “Us? And what about us were you thinking about?”

“About how funny it is that we ended up together, considering how we met and what I thought of you…”

“Ooh?” Zhao perks up. “And what did you think of me?”

Were their relationship still in its early stages, Ichiban might’ve felt so embarrassed about what he’s about to say that he would’ve tried to find an excuse not to reply, but now he replies calmly, accepting the challenge hidden in Zhao’s tone: he uses his bigger stature to tower over the other, reveling in the shiver Zhao isn’t able to suppress at the motion - though they don’t look intimidated at all.

“That you needed to be put in your place,” he growls then, voice low and gaze dark.

“Ohohohoh~” Zhao’s voice sounds more like it did when they first met: dangerous. “That so?”

Ichiban nods.

“Well then…”

Zhao stretches a hand towards their partner, cupping his cheek. “Feel free to put me in my place anytime.”

Oh, he’s into it. Ichiban can tell. Those glasses of theirs can’t hide shit from him, not when he knows them so well; there’s no other way he can interpret the shine in his eyes.

    After that revelation, of course, Ichiban hasn’t had a way to clear his mind enough to think about anything else that isn’t him putting Zhao right where he wants to and taking him the way they deserve.

How are they supposed to do it, though? They share a room with so many other people that they can't possibly put themselves in a situation where they would most likely traumatize someone!

This requires a solution, because as much as Ichiban could easily let this go and wait for the proper occasion, he has no idea how long that would take, and he wants it so bad. Usually, in the bedroom, Zhao’s the one leading, so changing things sounds very interesting, and Ichiban can’t deny that he’s curious to see Zhao’s reaction if he lets him get away with what he wants to do, so no, he can’t wait at all.

  Mmmh what to do…

Wait! He's just got an idea that might work!

    It’s harder than he thought having to save money, since he’s an impulsive buyer, but he manages because this is too important for him to ruin everything. Thankfully he makes enough as Ichiban Holdings’ CEO that in about a month he’s managed to get enough so that he can finally put his plan into motion.

What does his plan consist of? Renting a room at a love hotel, of course! Yeah, it doesn’t sound that fancy, especially considering that Ichiban’s been saving for this, but hey it’s not like he swims in money! Neither of them does!

At least like this they can be as rough and loud as they want to and, especially, they won’t have to be quick, because nobody’s supposed to walk into them when they least expect it.

  It takes him nothing to convince Zhao. They’re on board as soon as he mentions the love hotel part.

“Oh yes please,” they say, and is Ichiban dreaming things, or does he sound very eager? Eh, he supposes he’s been waiting for this for a while - though if they have, why hasn’t he ever mentioned it?

  During their ride - there’s no way they were going to walk all the way there, so they’ve taken a cab - Zhao hasn’t pulled away from Ichiban not even once, holding his arm tightly and whispering pure filth in his ear.

“I bet you can’t wait for it, can’t you? Are you going to make me scream? Are you going to make me beg for it? How long ‘till I’ll be able to walk again?”

On his part, Ichiban does his best to ignore what they say, even if the more time passes, the more difficult it becomes, especially when Zhao begins to lavish at his neck, like they’re not sitting inside a taxi and there isn’t a clearly uncomfortable driver.

“Z-Zhao… Please, not here…”

In response Zhao looks at him with such an innocent gaze that it almost makes Ichiban believe that he truly doesn’t know what they’re doing wrong. Ass.

  At least after that they calm down, not trying to rile Ichiban up anymore. Not that they needed to continue, since he did manage to get Ichiban going, even though there’s nothing he can do about it at the moment. Once they get to the hotel, though…

Ah. So this is why Zhao’s been acting the way they were acting: getting Ichiban so riled up that as soon as they were alone, he was going to explode.

Well, if that’s what Zhao wants, then Ichiban will give it to him, and with interests…

    Ichiban might be moving things along a bit too fast once they get to the love hotel, to the point that once he gets the key to their room, he almost runs towards it. He doesn’t only because he doesn’t want to appear too eager, though by the way Zhao’s looking at him, they must’ve caught it either way.

  Once they’re inside, they take a moment to study their surroundings. Huh, classic love hotel stuff: tacky pink everywhere, enormous bed, even bigger mirror, cabinet with lube and condoms… yes, the usual. Not that Ichiban has been to many love hotels…

He gets distracted when Zhao presses against him, circling his back with their arms. “Soooo Ichi, how are we going to do this?”

Seeing that Ichiban doesn’t reply, he begins kissing up from his neck to the corner of his mouth. “What? Cat got your tongue?”

  Before he can react, Ichiban grabs him by the waist and throws him on the bed, making him land with a loud oof.

“Hey, what the hell?!”

Before Zhao can complain further, Ichiban has found his place between his legs, pressing him against the bed.

“This what you wanted?” he asks, grabbing Zhao’s chin with a hand, sending a shiver across their spine.

“Huh-huh,” Zhao nods, looking at Ichiban with feverish eyes.

Oh god, they’re already get going… and Ichiban would lie if he said that this isn’t having an effect on him as well.

  He kisses Zhao hard, forcing their lips open with his tongue. The objective is to be as overwhelming as possible and, judging by the way Zhao is holding onto him, he must be doing a good job at it.

When they pull away, Zhao’s already panting hard, and his face looks even more debauched with the glasses that are threatening to slip off at any second. Ichiban takes hold of them and puts them aside, so that they won’t risk bending or breaking them - that would certainly be a mood killer.

He licks Zhao’s lips, taking then their lower lip and sucking, before biting it. Zhao gasp, body twitching against Ichiban.

“That all you thought about when you saw me? Kissing me?” they provoke Ichiban then, even though his voice doesn’t sound as confident as they’d like to appear.

In response, Ichiban grabs Zhao’s shirt and rips it open, making the other gasp as buttons come fly all over the place. Zhao doesn’t think he’s ever been so wet in all his life.

  Ichiban’s so glad Zhao didn’t feel like binding today; that thing is always a bitch to take off.

Like this, instead, he can already hold Zhao’s chest in his hands, squeezing it. His fingers are rough when they find Zhao’s nipples, twisting them in a way that makes Zhao whine.

“I-Ichiban…”

This is so different from what Ichiban usually gets to see, or hear, but he’d lie if he said that he doesn’t like it.

He lowers himself so that he can take one of Zhao’s nipples in his mouth, licking and sucking at it like he’s never done before, but when Zhao grabs onto his hair he pulls away, grabbing Zhao’s wrists and forcing them on the sides of their head.

“Stay still,” he orders then, but even after Zhao nods and Ichiban goes back to what he was doing, he still keeps his wrists in his hold. It would be easier to use some rope, or handcuffs - there must be plenty of those in here - but Ichiban has always preferred holding them down with his body, no need for anything else.

“Fuck…” Zhao moans when Ichiban bites down on his nipple, his whole body jolting at the sensation.

Ichiban raises his gaze towards him, and Zhao has to bite his lips to stifle a moan having that heated gaze on him. That, and also he looks so fucking hot while sucking on his tit like that.

If only Ichiban wasn’t between his legs he would try to rub them together, anything to dampen the wet sensation he feels between them. On his part, Ichiban doesn’t seem to care at all, at least for now, focusing only on their chest.

  They test Ichiban’s hold by trying to move his arms, but the other doesn’t budge.

“What did I say?” he scolds them. He usually sounds so gentle and careful, but Zhao hears nothing of that now. How much was he holding back all the times they’ve had sex?

“Sorry…” they mutter, though they don’t really sound that sorry.

Ichiban scowls, but apart from that it seems that Zhao’s apology is enough for him, because he begins kissing a line up to Zhao’s mouth, capturing his lips once again. He at least stops holding Zhao down, but just because he begins slipping his now thorn shirt off, and then going to their waist, thumbs caressing the exposed skin.

At the soft moan that leaves Zhao’s lips, however, they don’t stay still for long, and soon Zhao’s pants and leggings say goodbye as well, getting thrown on the ground with the shirt.

They pull away again, and god if Zhao doesn’t feel like a piece of meat from the way Ichiban’s looking at him. So hungry…

“You’re overdressed,” he points out, instead of saying anything about that.

“So?”

Zhao rolls his eyes. Ichiban has never defied them so much, but he supposes this is what’s fun about what they’re doing today. “C’mon… pretty please?”

It seems that his act does convince Ichiban a little, because he sheds his jacket, and then his shirt, so that Zhao can admire his body. Unfortunately, however, they don’t have enough time to stretch their now free hands to cup his chest because Ichiban drags him forward by the hips so that he’s resting on his knees, open and exposed.

  Ichiban looks down at them, and then a smirk appears on his face.

“Wow, you’re really into this…”

“Huh?” Zhao mutters, confused, but then they realize that there’s must be a pretty big damp spot between his legs. He nervously chuckles then. “Yeah… I am.”

Besides, it’s not like he can’t feel Ichiban getting hard against them. He’s into it as much as he is, and Zhao reminds him by grinding their crotches together, making Ichiban hiss.

It doesn’t last long, however, because soon Ichiban takes back control and pushes Zhao down, holding him still with a hand on their stomach, while with the other he travels down on Zhao’s body, until he reaches his pussy.

The fucker teases his clit just for a moment before lowering his fingers further, down to Zhao’s entrance. At first, he slowly gets only one inside, but seeing how wet Zhao is, he easily slips another one.

He doesn’t bother with being gentle, and thrusts his fingers in and out, in and out, getting the wettest sounds out of Zhao as he does. Holy fuck.

“Yeah… fuck! Ichiiiii!”

“Something tells him you’re liking it…” Ichiban grins, slowing down his movements. “But I bet there’s something you’d like more.”

“God, yeah,” Zhao moans in reply, knowing what Ichiban’s talking about. “Fuck, I need it…”

“Do you? ‘Cause I can keep going like this.” Ichiban twists his fingers up, and Zhao arches his backs against him as a loud moan escapes their lips. Oh yeah there, right there.

Ichiban doesn’t stop, making Zhao edge closer and closer to the orgasm, and all they can do is to hold onto him, scratching his shoulders with his long nails, unable to stop him - not that he wants him to stop. Holy shit it’s so good.

“I’m gonna… Ah!”

They try to warn him that they’re close, that they’re gonna come if he keeps going like that, but Ichiban doesn’t give him the time, going so fast that Zhao reaches the orgasm before he can even finish that sentence. His body tenses up at the sensation, arching and twisting in order to get it to last longer, just a moment longer but then, just like it started, it’s over.

  Ichiban pulls away, and Zhao already misses the feeling of having something inside him, though from the hurried way Ichiban’s unfastening his pants - he doesn’t even bother cleaning his fingers, the idiot - they suppose it won’t be for long.

Indeed, once Ichiban’s as bare as Zhao, he grabs their ankles and pushes them down, on either side of his head. He takes a moment to admire his lover under him, so pretty and flexible, at least until Zhao speaks.

“Again already?”

“You don’t sound upset about it,” Ichiban points out, and he can’t help but to smile, before remembering that he’s not supposed to do that, at least not during this particular occasion.

He distracts himself by kissing Zhao so that they can’t speak anymore, except for a few moans they can’t hold back when he begins to grind his cock against his pussy, getting it wet with all their juices.

He wouldn’t mind getting off like this, if he has to be honest, but he knows how good it feels inside Zhao, and he wants to get back there once again, so he temporarily lets go of one of Zhao’s ankles in order to better guide his cock, holding it as he begins to slide inside. Zhao hisses at the sensation, but otherwise he clenches around Ichiban, almost like he wants to suck him in.

“H-Hey, slow down!” Ichiban exclaims at the sudden stimulation, and he begins to thumb at Zhao’s clit in spite, knowing that it’s still oversensitive.

As predicted, Zhao shouts, body instinctively trying to pull away, but there’s nowhere they can go with Ichiban pressed against him like that, and it’s not like he’s giving him any mercy.

“Fuck! S-Sorry!” they try to apologize, but it still takes a while for Ichiban to stop, leaving Zhao a mess. They feel like a puddle, unable to move a muscle on his own.

  Only when Ichiban begins moving, Zhao manages to get partially out of the state of drowsiness that has been taking over them, body jolting awake at the pounding they’re receiving.

Ichiban’s going completely all out. He even makes the bed rattle with them, hitting the wall countless times. Had they been more coherent, Zhao would’ve wondered if they were going to make a huge hole in it, but with things being as they are, they don’t really care if they do, as longs as Ichiban doesn’t stop.

Usually they’re pretty quiet in bed, but this time they are unable to hold back his voice, moaning and screaming each time Ichiban sinks in. He swears he can feel him get deeper and deeper at each thrust; it’s like he’s drilling him open.

Their vision is cloudy, though it’s hard to tell if it’s just because they’re not wearing his glasses, or if there are some tears that are threatening to run down his face, but Ichiban’s close enough that he can see him pretty decently. He looks focused in a way that Zhao doesn’t think he’s ever seen him.

  Despite the fact that they’ve come recently, Zhao can feel another orgasm building up inside him. Once Ichiban notices - he always begins to tremble when he’s close to coming - he reaches down between his legs again, rubbing his clit with the same roughness from before, but at least it’s had some time to recover, so even though it still hurts a bit, it’s the kind of hurt that Zhao likes.

They feel a bit of drool trickling down their chin, but they don’t have enough strength to lift a finger and do anything about it. Besides, they barely have the time to think about that when Ichiban captures his lips again. It’s obvious by the erratic way he’s moving that he’s close as well.

“Zhao… Can I come inside?”

Zhao almost laughs. Really?

In a way, though, it’s sweet that he still asks.

“Please,” they say then, because he needs it, he needs Ichiban to come inside him so bad.

  Thankfully, it doesn’t take long for his wish to be granted.

God, it feels like Ichiban’s never stopping coming, which in turn tips Zhao well over the edge too, coming with a last shout.

Everything feels intense and not enough at the same time, and Zhao wonders if they've hit their head somehow for him to feel this way. He almost feels feverish.

  Soon Ichiban begins to slow down his movements, until he stills completely. He takes a moment to catch his breath, forehead gently pressed against Zhao’s, then he pulls out, making the other twitch at the sensation of sudden emptiness.

“Fuck…” he very eloquently says then. It makes Zhao chuckle.

“Indeed,” they reply, lazily dragging Ichiban in another kiss, this time softer and much slower than the ones they’ve shared until now.

When they pull away, Ichiban looks at them with badly hidden concern. “Are you okay? Does it hurt anywhere?”

“You fuckin’ destroyed me,” Zhao chuckles, but before Ichiban can begin fussing over them, something they’d frankly hate, they continue. “But that’s exactly what I came here for.”

“So it’s fine?”

Zhao nods. “More than fine I’d say.”

  “So… You liked it?”

Zhao raises an eyebrow at him.

“What do you think?” he asks, instead of replying.

After a moment of silence, Ichiban sighs. “Yeah, alright. Dumb question.”

  He lays down close to them, and immediately they drape themselves over him, holding him close. Ichiban hums contentedly, and returns the hug.

All that rough stuff is fine and all, but if he has to be honest, he prefers this “mushy shit” - that’s how Zhao would call it. This is simply how he is as a person, and nothing can change that.

He begins to idly caress Zhao’s back, fingers barely brushing against their naked body.

“Hey,” he says then. “Shouldn’t we take a shower?”

“Gimme a moment,” Zhao replies, voice a bit strained for the effort from before.

Ichiban nods, and waits until Zhao feels good enough that he can get up, because Ichiban knows that’s the problem. He’d offer to carry him, but Zhao would say no and maybe even get offended, so he stays silent.

  It’s not a problem, he can wait a bit.

Actually, with Zhao so close to him, he can wait more than just a bit, as long as they remain here.

“Yeah, take all the time you need.”

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch26: The Only One In Colour

Summary: Mr Anthony Stark requests the pleasure of your company at the wedding of his little sister, Katie Marie Stark to Captain Steven Grant Rogers…

Warnings: Bad language, Fluff, Smut! (NSFW, Under 18s) Bad Language words, a hungover Captain…and who is that lurking in the shadows??

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N: The big day is finally here. And I ADORE this edit from @angrybirdcr. Lots of visuals in this chapter and it’s a REALLY long one- like 10k words long- but, well, IT’S THEIR WEDDING!

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 25

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

 31st August 2015.

It took Katie a while to realise where she was when she woke. As her mind came to, she realised she was in her apartment at the tower, and when her eyes flew to the dress in its cover which was hanging up in the open closet, her stomach did a flip.

It was her wedding day!

“Good Morning Miss Stark.” FRIDAY spoke, and Katie grinned. 

Miss Stark…not for much longer!

“Miss Potts requested I inform her when you are awake…”

“Inform away.” She smiled, and jumped out of bed, grinning at the reflection of her tacky ‘Bride’ short and vest Pyjamas that the girls had surprised her with last night when they had been sat around having their pamper session with several glasses of champagne. Making her way into the living room, she was greeted by a loud squeal from Wanda, who along with Laura Barton had stayed in her apartment last night. Considering the amount of champagne that had been drunk, they all had surprisingly clear heads. It wasn’t long before Pepper and Nat arrived, and after a breakfast of fruit, pastries and croissants provided by the local bakery, Katie was ushered into the shower surprised at how calm she actually felt…

The boys, however, were faring a little worse, especially after Tony had cracked open a bottle of his dad’s vintage scotch which he had been saving for a special occasion and Thor had supplied Steve with copious amounts of that lethal Asgardian liquor along with some equally as potent Asgardian Ale. The Groom cracked one eye open and groaned when he realised he had passed out, fully clothed, on the sofa, Tony led flat out along the other side of it, drooling into the cushions.

Steve looked round, Clint was on the large arm chair in the corner of the room, Sam was sprawled face down on the large rug and Thor nowhere to be seen. Jesus Christ it had been a heavy one.

Of all the days to get his first hangover in over seventy years…his wedding morning.

His wedding morning. Shit.

Sitting up, a stupid grin on his face, headache forgotten he nudged Tony with his foot. The billionaire jerked and tumbled off the side of the sofa.

“Whassgoin on?” He looked around, blinking, before he grimaced. “Shit, my head…”

Clint let out a groan from the chair.  “Keep it down man…”

Sam let out an equally pained noise, not moving. “What day is it?” “My wedding day, fellas.” Steve grinned.

Tony groaned again, leaning back against the sofa “How are you so sprightly, Old Man?” “Trust me I’m not.” Steve shook his head, standing up “But Katie will kill me if we turn up like this.”

“Coffee.” Clint yawned, swaying slightly as he got to his feet. “We need coffee…” “And food.” Sam mumbled into the rug

“Good job I organised some.” Tony looked at his watch, squinting. “Should be arriving soon.” “Where’s Thor?” Clint suddenly asked as he glanced around.

“Here.” came the god’s deep voice as he strolled into the room. He was already dressed in a pair of jeans, t-shirt and his hair was damp from the shower

“How are you so alive, Thunder boy?” Sam sighed, sitting up.

“Like you just said, Bird Man.” Thor beamed round at them all. “I am the God of Thunder.” ******

Two hours later, Pepper was bustling around topping everyone’s Champagne up and when she reached Katie she gave her smile. “You ok?”

“Yeah.” She beamed back. “Maybe a little nervous, but mostly excited. I can’t believe I’m finally here. It feels like we’ve been waiting for this for so long.”

Pepper gently squeezed her hand. “Yeah. Tony has been on the job making sure the tent is right. The Caterers have arrived. And I got a full blow by blow as he was nearly having had a fit when the alcohol and bar were an entire four minutes and thirty-four seconds late.” “I thought organisation was your job?” Nat quipped from where she was lounging in a chair, dressed in her light blue ‘Bridesmaid’ robe.

“It is.” Pepper rolled her eyes. “And I told him it would be okay but, well, he just want everything to be right.” Katie rolled her eyes, a fond little smile playing on her lips at the thought of her brother still trying to make sure she was happy. “Where is he now?”

“He spent the night with the boys at the compound so he’ll be on his way back shortly to get changed. Apparently they sat outside at the compound with a bottle of whiskey and a few cigars and there are some sore heads this morning” Pepper smirked. “Even Steve is feeling it.”

Katie grinned, she’d only seen drunk Steve a handful of times, and Drunk Rogers was definitely one of her favourite Steves to see.

Wanda shook her head. “What is it about men and cigars?”

Natasha shrugged. “I like cigars.”

“What a surprise.” Laura grinned, earning herself a glare off the red head. They were cut off then by FRIDAY informing them that the stylists had arrived. Pepper told her to send them up and suddenly the room was filled with people, greetings being shared and Pepper organising everyone into their places as she did ever so efficiently.

And then, it was down to business. The Hairstylist, Franco, knew exactly what Katie wanted as she’d had a rehearsal and he set about, sweeping her brunette locks up into the up-do she’d picked- a bun sporting a few small braids running from her crown and round into the hair set at the nape of her neck. Loose tendrils of dark brunette fell forward around her cheeks, the whole thing set perfectly to frame her pretty face.

Time seemed to fly as one by one they exchanged places and moved around, and soon enough Katie was then in front of the make-up artist.

“Don’t worry about a thing,” The tiny blonde in front of her said as Katie quietly asked her to do her best to cover the scars by her mouth and temple, small reminders of what she’d been through at the hands of HYDRA. “You’re going to look perfect. I promise.”

Another glass of champagne made it into Katie’s hand and thirty minutes later she was done and handed a mirror. Her mouth dropped open. She’d had her make-up professionally done more times than she cared to remember but something about this was different. Someone else, but yet, still her glanced back. She had a light, neutral shade across her eye lids, which had a darker colour in the crease and a hit of sparkle. The contouring across her sculptured cheek bones was amazing, yet subtle, as the highlighter sweeping up and out caught the light perfectly, and the nude gloss on her lips set everything off.

And her scars were gone.

She swallowed and turned to the woman, smiling. “It’s perfect, thank you.”

Before the woman could reply, there was another announcement from FRIDAY about a delivery, and Katie glanced around and Pepper.

“What did you order?”

“That’s not me, I swear.” Pepper shook her head.

“I’ll go.” Nat offered, “I’m done here now.”

She headed out of the room and Katie stood up to allow Pepper to sit down for the make-up artist in the seat next to where Wanda was sat having the finishing touches done to her face. She looked amazing, dark smoky eye-shadow set off her eyes and red locks perfectly.

Natasha arrived back, a smirk on her face as she carried a simply huge bouquet of flowers which were tied with a blue ribbon and sat in a clear bag of water, a small Cartier bag also hanging from her hands.

“For the Bride.” She drawled, and Katie took the bouquet, smiling, not even needing to read the card to know who they were from.

“They’re from Steve.”

“How do you know?” Laura frowned. “They’re the ones in my tattoo.” She explained as she placed them gently on the kitchen area of her Tower Apartment admiring the various lilies, daisies and greenery set into the arrangements. “My favourite flowers.”

She picked the card out of the bouquet, spotting Steve’s looping scrawl straight away.

I can’t wait to make you Mrs Rogers, Sweetheart. See you at the Alter. All my love,  now and forever, Steve xxx

“That’s disgustingly cute.” Laura groaned, reading the card over Katie’s shoulder as she grinned at the simple yet meaningful message.

“That’s my Soldier all over.” Katie smiled before she opened the bag. She pulled out the small box and opened it, her mouth falling open at the beautiful drop earrings inside. They were roughly two inches long, chains of small diamond and white gold stars which glinted in the light.

“Star Spangled Man, huh?” Nat smirked and Katie turned to her grinning.

And suddenly the excitement washed over her. This was happening. Actually happening.

“Shit!” Katie wheeled round as her stomach started to flip “Oh my God, I’m getting married!”

**** Steve finished brushing off his shoes which were polished that much he could almost see his face in them. With a groan as the pain in his head had once again reared, damned that fucking Asgardian shit, he slipped them on and laced them up and then turned his attention to his hair. Once he had finally got it to lie how he wanted, it was time for his tie.

He hadn’t taken the decision to wear his army uniform lightly. It had been one he had agonised over for ages, but after Katie had told him it was entirely his choice but he should stay true to who he was, he’d realised that before Captain America, he’d been Steve Rogers, and all he had ever wanted was to be in the army. So he was going to be Captain Rogers today, who he was. 

There was a knock on the bedroom door and Sam walked in, already in his uniform. Steve smiled at him in the mirror before expertly tying the double-Windsor and turning round.

“Got the rings?” Sam asked. Steve nodded to the two boxes sat on the dresser which contained their bands. Picking them up, Sam slid them into his breast pockets, fastening the buttons.

“Nervous?” He asked and Steve considered the question for a second.

Was he?

“Kinda.” He admitted with a slight pop of his shoulder. “I don’t wanna mess up my vows, but I’m not nervous about marrying her, nothing has ever felt more right, Sam.”

Sam smiled and swept the man up into a bro-hug, clapping his back. “Tony’s heading off to the tower now. The tent  is ready, waiters are here setting the tables. It’s all going to plan.” “Maybe for once it might stay that way.” Steve sighed and Sam chuckled.

“How’s the head?”

Steve let out a small groan. “Pounding. As best man, I’m holding you totally responsible.”

Sam shrugged “Wouldn’t be the worst thing I’ve been blamed for.”

Steve snorted.

“You know what you need?” Sam looked at him. “A leveller.” “A what?”

“Another drink, hair of the dog that bit you and all that…”

At the mere thought Steve’s stomach lurched and he shook his head. “The fuck I do.”

“Trust me.” Sam grinned, as he left the bedroom. “It never fails. How do you think I’ve just cured mine?” Steve followed him into the living room where a photographer was there taking snaps, Thor loudly asking what he was doing. Sam hastily explained, placating the god who was already in his Asgardian dress. Steve paused, looking at him for a second. Instead of the silver and red everyone was used to seeing him in, his robes were a glittering white lined with gold piping, his cape was deep blue and his hair was well groomed.

“Wow, Thor.”

“Traditional Asgardian formal dress.” Thor grinned, turning to Steve. “Little Stark’s request, which reminds me.” He jerked his head signalling for the Captain to follow him. Frowning slightly, Steve obliged, and the men stepped outside onto the patio area.

“Little Stark is very dear to me.” Thor began. “But she is your intended, so I thought it only right to ask your permission to give something to her.”

“Okay.” Steve frowned, a little puzzled.

“I have a headdress.” Thor explained, “It belonged to my mother and has been passed down the line for years. I would very much like to offer it to her to wear today.” Steve smiled, the man’s care for his girl was genuinely something he liked. He was a good man to have onside, and his intentions were always honourable. “She’ll love that.” Steve nodded. Thor shook his hand and held out his other, Steve just getting out of the way in time to avoid being flattened as Mjolnir flew into it with the familiar metallic swoosh, followed by a slap as the leather handle hit the god’s large palm. With a nod to the Captain, and a promise to be back shortly, he took off.

******

Pepper and Natasha looked stunning in their pale blue bridesmaid dresses. Knee length, skater style with off the shoulder straps. Laura’s dress was also blue, but a dark shade peplum style with a slit up the side and Wanda’s was slightly more grungy, almost 50s style, navy blue with polka-dots and a large, puffy skirt.

All four of them looked amazing and Katie told them so, beaming, before Pepper informed her it was time to get into her dress. In a daze Katie headed into the bedroom and taking a deep breath she peeled herself out of her robe as Pepper set the dress ready, and Katie stepped into it. She pulled it up, holding it in place as Pepper’s fingers deftly fastened up the buttons, before she smoothed down and fluffed out the skirt. Katie stepped into her heels, took a glance in the mirror and felt the tears prick her eyes.

“Don’t…” Pepper instructed, handing her a tissue from a box on the side, one which she had clearly bought, prepared to the very end “You’ll set me off, and there’s gonna be enough of that when Tony sees you.” “Where is he?” Katie asked, tissue gently dabbing at her eyes.

“Just getting into his suit.” Pepper smiled. “He won’t be long. Okay, you ready?”

Taking a deep, steadying breath, Katie nodded and the two of them made their way out of the bedroom and into the hall. The photographer that had been taking photos all morning was waiting, snapping away, capturing, she hoped, the look on the girls faces as for the first time ever she saw Natasha’s eyes watering over.

“Shit, Nova.” Nat’s hand flew to her mouth. “Wow.” Katie grinned at her, and was about to answer when the elevator door slid open.

"I’m looking for the one wearing white.” A familiar voice teased as Tony stepped into the apartment, making Katie turn to face him. He stopped dead, his eyes widening.

“Oh Kiddo, you look incredible.”  he whispered, swallowing slightly as his deep brown eyes sparkled, his face curling into a gently smile.

“Thank you, so do you.” Katie gestured to the charcoal suit and light blue Stock Tie he was wearing. Tony took the glass of champagne that Pepper handed to him but, before he could say anything else, another person stepped into the apartment.

A tall, large blonde God dressed in gold and white Asgardian armour beamed at Katie as her mouth fell open.

“Thor?” She looked at him, surprise on her face as he strode across the room to wrap his arms around her.

“Little Stark, you look beautiful.” He smiled down at her. “The Captain is a lucky man indeed.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I cannot stop long I just wanted to give you something.”

She frowned as he held up his hammer and with a sudden flash that made Pepper and Laura jump, she felt something land on her head. Katie reached up gently and felt the outline of a tiara perched on her hair.

“What…I don’t understand?” She whispered as she looked up at him, her fingers tracing the headdress. “It was my mothers.” Thor said gently. “I do not have a sister, you are the closest thing to it and I’d be honoured if you would wear it today.” Katie was speechless as she crossed to the mirror. Made of a silvery metal, the tiara consisted of a mass of intricate lines and reminded her somewhat of how the lost Diadem of Ravenclaw had looked in the Harry Potter films. It shimmered in the light and was adorned with what looked like diamonds, a larger deep red stone in the centre, and she could just make out the small ancient Asgardian runes

“Thor…I…” she turned to him, unable to speak. “I told your Captain of my intention.” He beamed. “He thought you would appreciate it. The runes are an ancient Asgardian blessing, they wish the bearer happiness and safety” “It’s beautiful, thank you.” Her voice cracked.

Thor pulled her in for another hug and nodded. “I must go now, back to the compound. Barton and Birdman and doing one final sweep of the grounds. I said I would help before we meet at the church.”

A final squeeze and nod and he left the room, and minutes later they all heard the tell-tale whoosh as he summoned the bi-frost.

“I really hope he was on the jet pad.” Tony grumbled. “Those damned marks are impossible to get rid of.” ***** Against his better judgment, Steve had a ‘leveller’- another shot of that lethal liquor- and to his surprise, it had actually gone someway to sorting his head out. Either that or his metabolism was finally working it out of his system.

But now he had another issue…

“Where the hell is it?” He was getting flustered, because how the HELL had he misplaced his uniform belt? He’d had it last night, he knew he had.

“It’ll be here somewhere.” Sam assured him, and after a frantic search, which left the apartment almost upside down, Clint located it down the back of the sofa.

“What was it doing there?” Steve frowned.

“Stark was wearing it as a headdress last night.” Thor supplied “You were wearing a tie, Birdman was wearing a pair of Little Stark’s tights and Barton was using a sash from a robe. You were, I believe Stark said the term was, rocking out to some form of music. Do you not remember?”

“No.” Steve mumbled, sliding it on and clipping it round his waist. He walked to the long mirror in the hall and looked at his reflection. Being dressed in this jerked back a lot of memories of his time with the Howlies, Bucky and Peggy…

“Just go talk to her.” Bucky said, leaning against the bar as Steve’s eyes roved up and down Peggy as she stood at the bar in the pub in London talking to Howard Stark.

“I talk to her all the time.” Steve looked at his friend.

“God you’re a dumbass.” Bucky shook his head “I don’t mean just talk I mean, you know…talk, ask her out.”

Peggy looked up, caught his eye and he found himself blushing before turning back to his drink. It really wasn’t appropriate, maybe if it was a different time…

“Captain America and still a pussy when it comes to women.” Bucky snorted, clocking the look on his friend’s face “Glad to see not everything has changed.”

But everything had changed now. And it was funny how it had all worked out in the end. But he wouldn’t change a damned second.

“Captain Rogers…” FRIDAY spoke. “Your cars are arriving.”

Steve took a deep breath and smiled at Sam who walked towards him, clapping him on the shoulder. “You alright?”

Steve nodded, suddenly his stomach was doing flips and this was nothing to do with the alcohol. “Let’s go.”

****

“The cars are here.” Pepper smiled, walking into the room with the box that contained the flowers. She handed Katie her bouquet, a simple bunch of Cala Lilies tied with pale blue, gold and red ribbons. She set about pinning one of the boutonnieres to Tony’s lapel before she smoothed his shirt down and pecked him on the cheek.

“Okay. Nat, Wanda, Laura and me are gonna go ahead now.” Pepper instructed. “You follow on in about fifteen or so, give us enough time to hand these out-“ she patted the box contained the remaining boutonnieres, “-and sort the boys into the right places.”

Katie smiled at her and she looked at the woman she had long since come to regard as a younger sister. “You really do look stunning!”

“Thanks Pep.” She kissed Tony again before she bustled the other three women out.

"You know,” Tony said gently when the door closed behind them, “I always thought when you were a kid that you’d look ridiculous in a wedding dress. But, I was wrong, yeah it happens occasionally.” His face softened as he looked at his sister “You turned into a beautiful woman. Mom and dad would be proud, just as I am.”

“They’d be proud of you too.” Katie smiled, the tears springing into her eyes as he wrapped his arms around her. “You know that right?”

“Yeah, yeah, anyway.” He pulled back, sniffing slightly, before he ran his fingers underneath his eyes. “I have something for you.” With a flourish he reached into his suit jacket and withdrew a slim box.

Katie took it from him, her hands shaking slightly as she opened it. Inside was a stunning white gold necklace. It sported five teardrop shaped loops, each set with diamonds, the middle of the loops holding sapphires.

“It was Mom’s” Tony explained as she ran her fingers over the stones. “I’ve been saving it for you and figured that this…” his voice cracked, “was the perfect opportunity to give it to you.” “Tone,” she swallowed, the tears forming in her eyes once more, “it’s stunning.”

Tony took the box from his sister and gently removed the necklace and she turned round so he could fasten it round her neck.

“So that’s your something blue.” He said as she turned round, and let out a watery laugh.

“My garter’s blue.” “Don’t wanna know.”

Katie giggled and gently wiped at her eyes. “If you’ve ruined my make-up…” She headed to the full length mirror in the hallway and leaned forward to examine her face.

“I think you’re good.” He smiled as she locked eyes with him in the mirror. Satisfied that all the make-up artist’s work was still intact she turned to Tony who rocked forward on his feet a little, giving a clap.

“So, we got time for one last drink before you become a Rogers?” He asked, walking over to the liquor cabinet and reaching for two crystal tumblers.

“You know its’ only in name.” Katie smiled as he poured a few fingers worth of scotch into each glass.

“Still gonna be odd calling you by it.” He handed her one and she smiled. “But either way, you’ll always be my little Kiddo, you know that?” His voice cracked slightly and Katie took a deep breath, her eyes shining.

“Yeah.” She chinked her glass gently against his “I do Tone.” *****

Steve strode across from the car, Sam following and the pair of them began to greet the guests. Steve was starting to feel nervous now. He shook hands with Evans and Lawson, both of them giving him friendly slaps on the back, welcomed a load of other people he’d seen in Katie’s office before, but his mind wasn’t there. He was mulling over his declaration, and his eyes which were hidden behind his aviators, constantly roved the area in front of the church.

And then Sam slapped him on his shoulder.

“What?” Steve asked, turning to face him. 

“Bridesmaids are here Cap.” He smiled, and Steve turned to see the sleek, black Jaguar pull up to the side of the kerb. The driver got out and opened the back door to allow Natasha to climb out first, then Pepper followed, Wanda and Laura Barton getting out of the other side. Laura beelined for Clint who dropped a kiss to her cheek whilst Pepper, Nat and Wanda made their way over to Steve and Sam.

“You look great.” Steve smiled as he dropped a kiss to Pepper’s cheek, then Natasha’s then Wanda. “How’s Katie?”

“Nervous as hell.” Nat drawled, smoothing down her skirt before she looked up at Steve grinning. “Nice touch on the flowers and the earrings by the way, you almost set her off.”

 “But she’s ok?” He pressed.

“If you’re asking whether she’s having second thoughts, not a chance.” Pepper touched his arm. Steve took a deep breath and then turned to the Priest who had joined them.

“She’s about ten minutes or so behind.” Pepper smiled, at the man before she turned to Sam and Steve. “So I suggest you lot get to where you should be.”

“Right, yeah…” Steve took a deep breath, “Ok…”

He turned to head into the church and Sam looked at Natasha. “On a scale of one to ten how dead is she gonna knock him?”

“Eleven.” Nat grinned.

Sam let out a laugh before he yelled to the other groomsmen, and began his duty organising people into the church to the right seats.

**** Katie had a tight hold of Tony’s hand all the drive into Brooklyn. They made easy talk, the pair of them laughing in the back of the car but, as they rounded the corner to the street where the church was, Katie suddenly fell silent.

“You okay?” Tony looked at her. Katie nodded. 

“A bit nervous. Not about marrying Steve but…” She trailed off. “It feels strange, being happy, after everything that we’ve been through.”

“You deserve it.” Tony pressed a kiss to her temple. “Now push that thought out of your mind okay? Today is about you…and Steve.” He added as an afterthought.

Katie laughed as the car pulled to a stop and the driver hopped out. Tony got out of his side and rounded the car to offer Katie his arm. She tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow, her bouquet clutched in the other and together they made their way up to the entrance where the Priest, Pepper and Natasha were waiting. The photographer got a few snaps before he nodded and said he would see them inside.

The Priest smiled and ran through the usual checks and questions which Katie answered and he smiled, clapping his hands together.

“Okay, well, let’s get you married.” He grinned, heading back inside, leaving them stood in the vestibule area. 

Katie took a deep breath and Natasha and Pepper took their places.

“You ready?” Tony questioned, placing his hand over Katie’s as the opening chords to Eva Cassidy’s “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” started up.

“I’ve never been more ready for anything in my entire life.” She squeezed his arm when her knees threatened to wobble as the doors opened.

All heads turned in their direction as Pepper and Natasha made their way down the aisle and Katie’s legs suddenly felt like jello.

“Don’t let me fall.” She whispered as she gripped her big brother’s arm even tighter. 

Tony turned his head to press an affectionate kiss to the side of her head, “Never.” He whispered back with a smile.

As they made their way down the aisle, Katie wanted to take a look around the full church but she couldn’t. She couldn’t take her eyes off her soldier at the front. It wasn’t the fact that he looked especially handsome in his 40s dress uniform that made Katie’s knees tremble, neither was it his, as usual, clean shaven face or his perfectly styled hair. It was his eyes, and the smile on his face that lit up the moment he saw her.

“Oh my god...” Steve managed to mumble, his mouth dropping open, and Sam clapped him between the shoulder blades.

“You’re a lucky man.”

Steve couldn’t bring himself to reply. Instead he stood, gawping like an idiot as his girl glided towards him. She looked incredible, almost like she was glowing. Her dress was elegant, yet almost princess like. Her hair was twisted up off her face and she wore the biggest smile on her face he’d ever seen. He watched as she clutched onto Tony’s arm, her brother giving her hand another squeeze and the two turned to face each other, sharing a moment, before she looked back at Steve and their eyes locked. The Captain took a deep shuddering breath and smiled back, a smile which didn’t leave his face all the time she made her way towards him. 

After what felt like an age, his nearly wife reached his side and stood in front of him.

“Hi.” She managed to whisper, and he shook his head, blinking back his tears as he let out a deep breath.

“You look astonishingly beautiful.” His voice trembled as his eyes bored into hers and she felt herself flush, the grin still plastered to her face.

“Why thanks.” Tony said, and the pair of them looked at him, Steve letting out a simple snort as Katie shook her head, a small laugh escaping her mouth as she handed her bouquet over to Natasha.

“Dearly beloved,” the Priest opened. “We are gathered here today to celebrate the marriage of Steve and Katie.”

Steve looked at Katie and she gave him another huge grin, neither of them paying any attention to the Priest as he ran through his usual greetings, until there was a little chuckle from the congregation that shook them both back round and the turned to look at him.

“Who here gives this bride away?” he questioned.

“Oh, right, that would be err, me.” Tony stepped forward and gently turned Katie’s left hand into Steve’s right. The two men shared a meaningful look that could only be described as pure respect before Tony stepped back, taking his seat next to Pepper, blinking away his tears as she gripped his hand.

“You have prepared your own declarations before the vows?” The Priest looked at them, and they nodded. “In that case, ladies first.” he smiled at Katie and she took a deep breath, turning to face Steve, as he took both her hands in his, clearing her throat.

“You know, if someone had told me that the man I met for the first time in that small boxing gym down town would be the man I would fall in love with and one day marry, I would have told them they were being ridiculous.” She smiled and Steve squeezed her hands. “Stevie, I’ve watched you grow and thrive in a world that you thought you didn’t belong in but you never let it break you. You have no idea how strong you are and how strong you make me.” She hadn’t realised she’d started crying until Steve released one of her hands to wipe her cheek, his own eyes shining as he felt like his heart was going to burst through his chest as she continued. "When I think back on how much we’ve been through over the past few years, it never fails to amaze me how you carried not just me through it, but everyone around you too. You’re the most honourable, beautiful man I know, and that’s nothing to do with any serum, it’s just who you are. You’re my best friend. My lover. My everything. And I’ll always love you Steven Grant Rogers.”

"Wow,” The minister said clearing his throat. “Captain? Think you could top that?”

“I’ll try my best.” He choked out making laughter ripple through the crowd along with a few sniffles, before he took a deep breath. “Katie, when I went into the ice, I thought I knew what love was. I thought that I was in love before and that I wouldn’t ever feel like that again. And then you walked into my life and not only did I get to know you, I fell head over heels in love with you and you made me understand that a first love and a true love are two Stark-ly different things.”

Katie smiled, and there were a few titters at the pun he had used. He took another shaky breath and continued. “You’re the most beautiful, kind hearted, brave woman I’ve ever met. Each second I spend with you is unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. Everything I’ve been through I’d do it a thousand times over, and then some, if it meant I’d find my way back to you. You’re my world, my home, my girl, and for that I will always do my best to be the husband you deserve, to keep you safe, and happy and I’ll always love and cherish you. To the end of the line.”

As he finished, his voice broke a little and Katie took a shuddering breath as she reached up to wipe a tear away from his eye, just as he had done to her before. He smiled at her and she beamed back, her own tears threatening to trickle down her face, as he took her hands back in his, both of them turning to the minister again.

“Anyone got a tissue?” The man asked, pretending to dab at his eyes with his robes causing a few chuckles to ring around the church before he addressed her and Steve again.

“Ready for the serious business?”

They both nodded. One by one they made their vows, promises to love, honour, cherish and forsake all others for richer, for poorer and in sickness and in health being uttered as their eyes intently bored into each other, driving the words home into each of their souls.

The sentiment wasn’t lost on either of them, they’d been through all of it and so much more already.

“Do you have the rings?” The minister asked. Sam stepped forward and gave Katie Steve’s.

Katie did as she was told, placed the ring at the end of Steve’s finger and repeated the vows they had chosen as she looked him straight in the eyes.

“I give you this ring as a token of my love for you. I give it with my loving heart, with my willing body and with my eternal soul.” She slid the plain platinum band onto Steve’s previously bare ring finger and once it passed his knuckle and nestled in its new permanent home, he took a deep breath then exhaled.

Then it was his turn. He rolled Katie’s ring in his fingers before looking up and locking gazes with her as he repeated after the minister the same vows she had made,  finally sliding her diamond studded band down her perfectly manicured finger, his thumb sliding over the top of it. She looked at it for a second, before glancing back up at him, smiling.

"By the power vested in me by the Church and the State of New York, in the presence of God…I mean Gods,” the Minister politely corrected himself, looking at Thor and the bride and groom laughed along with the rest of the Church as Thor raised a hand, grinning. “I now pronounce you Husband and Wife. Captain,” he patted Steve on the shoulder, “you may now kiss your bride.”

Oh, he’d wanted to do that the minute she had walked into the Church!

With a smile, Steve closed the small distance between them and took her face in both his large hands, as hers slid up to his chest and he pressed a soft, sweet and perfect kiss to her lips.

There was loud cheering and clapping as they pulled back and Katie had just enough time to register the cheeky wink he flashed her before his hands pulled her back to him and this time he really kissed her, in a way that was totally not appropriate for a church but neither of them cared as his tongue slid along hers. Through the blood rushing in their ears, they could just make out the sound of more cheering and a couple of wolf whistles. They broke apart and for a long moment, their foreheads pressed together and they just smiled stupidly at one another, until Steve reluctantly stepped back so he could take his wife’s hand in his, and turn to face their guests.

“Ladies, gentlemen, please be upstanding for your bride and groom!” The minister spoke “Mr and Mrs Rogers!”

Their exit song ‘Signed, Sealed, Delivered’ struck up and for the first time Katie got to glance at everyone in the room. She smiled at so many people, when a squeeze to her hand from Steve brought her back and he beamed at her.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Never better!” she grinned.

He pressed another soft kiss to her lips before they set off down the aisle. As they reached the end, Steve bent to pick up something, and Katie watched the familiar flash of red, white and blue vibranium as he swung it onto his arm.

“Seriously?” She arched an eyebrow.

“Trust me, Doll.” He muttered. “Because I don’t trust that lot one bit.”

The photographer got a few shots of everyone and then people started to climb into cars and head to the compound, all except the Avengers plus partners who had made an arch for the bride and groom to walk under. Steve grinned and turned to Katie, the two sharing another kiss before he nodded at her and they made their way down the steps onto the path. As soon as they did, Katie realised what Steve had been talking about as suddenly a barrage of rice rained down on them as the group yelled and cheered. As she shrieked with laughter, Steve pulled her to him, shield raised over his head, ducking slightly as they made their way to the waiting car. The chauffeur opened the door to the Jaguar SUV and Steve helped Katie in.

“I love you Mrs Rogers.” He grinned as they settled in the back of the car.

“I love you too.” She whispered back as his face dropped towards hers.

“Good, because you’re stuck with me now.” He leaned in, his nose rubbing against hers before he gave her another soft kiss as the car pulled away.

*****.

As the group filed out of the church, no one noticed the man staying close to the shadows across the road. But then they wouldn’t, as it’s a good hiding place, he knew this neighbourhood like the back of his hand after all, and he should do too given the amount of times he and that scrawny little blonde haired punk used to tread the sidewalks getting up to mischief. Full of dirt and leaves from scaling trees they would head back to Steve’s house for his Ma to patch them up, normally getting a clout upside the head (fondly, he recalls, never meant to hurt) as she complained in a strong, Irish brogue, which always seemed so unbecoming from such a slight woman. “You two young hooleys are going to be the death of me, so you are!” She’d admonish as she wiped their various bruises and fed them large pieces of whatever she’d managed to bake from that week’s meagre supplies. Now that small, sickly kid was a strapping six-foot plus mass of muscle, his outward appearance now reflected the brave Captain he had always been, stood in his old army dress uniform, his stunning wife a vision in ivory, and he was pleased to see, looking a lot healthier than she had when he had carried her out of that outpost in Canada. He watched as Steve raised his shield above his bride’s head to shelter her as their group of friends pelt them with rice, planting a kiss to her lips as various cheers and whoops hit his ears, and then they hurried to the waiting car. As it pulled away the last he saw of Steve was him leaning across the to place a kiss on his girl’s, no, his wife’s lips who’s pretty face looked like it might split in half from her smiling so much. “Good for you, Punk.” He muttered and, smiling to himself, he pulled his cap further down over his face and tucked his hands into his pockets. Yes, he had taken a huge risk coming here but he couldn’t not see his childhood best friend on his wedding day… even if his childhood best friend hadn’t seen him. 

With more of a spring in his step than he remembered having since before the war, he headed back to where he had hidden the stolen motorcycle ready to trek back North where he could catch a flight to Europe and slink back into the shadows once more.

****

The sunny August afternoon passed in a daze of champagne, photos and food. 

The head table was situated in the middle of the banquet tent, occupied by Katie, Steve, Sam, Pepper, Tony and Natasha. The rest of the guests were seated at circular tables dotted around, Katie and Pepper having carefully plotted places. Of course the Avengers had their own table, which was rowdy, Thor’s loud voice booming across the Tent as he sat with Jane, who was chatting away to Linda Barton. Vision was perched next to Wanda, conspicuous as always, whilst Banner was talking to Clint. 

When the desert had been eaten, glasses were charged and it was time for the speeches. 

It was Tony’s turn first and as he stood up, both hands raised in his usual flamboyant manner, Katie let out a soft groan as she knew she was about to get a roasting. Her brother started off fairly mildly, toasting the bridesmaids cheekily quipping he was looking forward to taking one home with him that evening.  

“Which one?” Quipped Clint, earning him a slap round the head from Laura whilst the tent laughed. 

Tony paused before he dropped a hand to Pepper’s shoulder where she sat to his right and grinned. “Well there’s a fifty-fifty chance it’ll be the one I’m in a relationship with. No offence, Widow, but you’re not my type.”

Natasha flipped him off as the tent laughed, and all raised their glasses, before a wicked glint flashed in Tony’s eyes and he turned to his left, looking at Katie where she sat at the head of the table.

“Kiddo.” He smirked “I don’t know where to start.”

“Then don’t.” “Oh I’m gonna…” He winked “For the last Thirty-One years you’ve been a monumental pain in my ass. From making me fight monsters under your bed with the vacuum cleaner to your Vegan Goth phase and that damned Turkey that you insisted we keep.” He looked at her fondly as he grinned. “And we won’t even mention the amount of times I was called into School because you’d sassed a teacher, or when you refused point blank to fly home from University on a normal jet, or the time you wrapped your BMW round a lamppost and blamed the road for being too bendy. But, for the record, there isn’t a day that I’d change any of it. Watching you flourish into the beautiful, brave, kind young woman sat in front of me has, and always will be, my greatest achievement. Everything that life has put in front of you, you’ve taken and more. And I’ll always be proud of you.”

He took a deep breath as Steve’s hand curled round Katie’s under the table.

“And as for the groom, well, there’s not much to say about Spangles really. When I first met him, thought he was a Star Spangled asshole. Now I know him, think he’s just a normal asshole.”

Steve rolled his eyes, “Thanks Tony.” he quipped as the he guests laughed. But as his brother-in-law locked eyes with him, the two of them smiled.

“How I found out about you two was less than desirable.” He raised his eyebrows and they both let out a groan “For those of you that don’t know I walked in on them, in the kitchen, and interrupted something, and I won’t lie, I wasn’t overly enamoured about the idea but you fast proved me wrong and, well, here we are.” Tony swallowed and looked at Steve. “For the record, Cap,  I’m glad she has someone like you to look after her, care for her and cherish her but just so you know…” he raised his two fingers to his eyes and then moved them towards Steve, the same I’m watching you gesture as he had given him in his apartment over two years ago. Steve snorted into his glass which was once more full of Asgardian ale and Katie simply shook her head.

“In all seriousness, Rogers and I had a nice long talk last night about what it means to be a family. To love and be loved. To feel like you do and will forever belong with a certain person. And he told me that’s what he felt about Katie. That he does and will forever belong with her.”  Tony looked around the room with a flourish before he turned to look at the newly-weds. “And I know I speak for everyone here when I say, we are so lucky – and happy – that we’re all part of this weird-ass family. Even with Rhodey here.”

Rhodey flipped him off from where he sat across the tent and the guests laughed once more

“So if you’ll please all raise your glasses.” Tony picked his up, as everyone stood their glasses raised. “Steve and Katie, Cap and Kiddo, and our friends, family, be they with us or not.”

The murmurs of the echoed toast died down being replaced applause and whoops as Tony took a short bow, before he rounded the table and Katie stood up to hug him kissing his cheek. 

“Love you.” She grinned, and Tony beamed back at her before he returned to his seat. 

At that point Steve stood up to a load of cheers and he held his hand up.

“Yeah, not sure how I can follow that.” He smiled, “Thanks for those kind words Tony.” He cleared his throat. “You know, looking around the place, seeing everyone here to help us celebrate has brought it home to me how lucky I actually am. When I came out of the ice, I thought I’d lost everything, my entire life, everyone I knew. But I fast came to realise that whilst that may have been true once, what I’ve gained since is irreplaceable.” He glanced down at Katie before he looked back around. “When Katie walked into that gym which was only a few blocks away from where we got married today, we shared a ten minute conversation. By the end of those ten minutes I’d already realised how sassy, sarcastic and loyal she was, and dare I say it, damned gorgeous too”

Katie shook her head as titters rose around the tent.

“But then I got to know her. And she became my best friend, still is, and frankly now I think she’s the most amazing human being on the planet. I could continue to wax lyrical about you Doll, but I won’t. I said everything I had to say to you in the church, but there is one thing I wanted to add. You said that I make you strong, but it’s really you who does that to me. I’m only strong because you’re by my side. You make me want to be a better person and I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of waking up in the morning by your side, simply being able to call you mine.” He took a deep breath, blinking back the tears that were threatening to fall as he looked down at the table, then back to her. “From that first date I knew we had something special and everything we’ve been through in the past two and a bit years, we’ve made it through because we’ve been together. So if I could ask you all to raise your glasses in the direction of my gorgeous, amazing wife.” He stopped, dropped his head and shook it, chuckling. “Man I’ll never get tired of saying that…” He looked back up, a huge grin on his face and Katie laughed, wiping her eyes “Mrs Rogers.”

He sat down and Katie leaned over to give him a soft kiss, smiling as her hand gently traced down his cheek. More cheers and Steve grinned against her mouth, his cheeks flushing slightly as he pressed his forehead to hers.

And then Sam got up.

“Yeah, saved the best till last I know.” He said as everyone giggled “I’ll keep mine short and sweet as we all know there’s a party to get started. I first met Cap when he was running. Well, I say running, it was more like tearing up the ground. Kept lapping me like a crazy mother, nearly killed me trying to keep up.” He grinned and Katie and Steve both laughed. “I haven’t known him for very long all things considered, so being asked to be best man was a privilege, so thank you brother. It means a lot.” He nodded to Steve who raised his glass in his direction. “Now, being friends with Captain America is probably the same as what being friends with Steve Rogers is like, from what I can gather. He’s a great guy, with a fully functioning moral compass, only there’s the added complication that you’ll have a building dropped on your head, get shot at and generally be whipped into a whole heap of trouble, and that was only within the first three days we’d met.” Sam quipped as the tent laughed and Steve shook his head. “But the thing is, when Captain America knocks on your door and needs your help, you gotta follow, even if it means your life expectancy is probably gonna halve.  Mind you, my chances of getting laid have more than doubled so I think they cancel one another out.” At that Steve groaned and dropped his head into his hands as the tent erupted into laughter. “But in all my life I’ve never met two people more suited for each other. You’re like peanut butter and jelly, mac and cheese, Simon and Garfunkel, can’t have one without the other.” Sam smirked “So, without further ado, charge your glasses one final time, to the new Mr and Mrs Rogers.”

Everyone did so and Sam drained his glass, clapping his hands together. “Now how about we get this party started?”

****

A few hours later as the sun was dipping behind the trees and several bottles of champagne, Asgardian beer and a fair few measures of whiskey had been drunk, Steve led his wife to the dance floor for their first dance. Surrounded by their friends and family he gently pulled her into his arms as the first bars of their song rang out from the speakers.

I’ve been searching all my life I used to be so color blind You opened up my eyes Do you wanna share your dreams See a different side of me You’re everything I need He pulled her closer, his hand curling round the small of her back, his other tightly clasped around hers as they gently swayed to the music, foreheads pressed together, smiles stuck firmly to their faces.

I like it when you think out loud Things you say when you know There is no one else around I can dig my own graves now But will you smile every time I try to crawl my way out

His left hand dropped from the small of her back and he took a step away, spinning her out into a twirl as the chorus struck up, drawing cheers from the circle of people around the dance floor.

There is no one like you I live in a world of black and white And you are the only one in color There is no one like you Into mystery I slide I want you to keep it all uncovered You are the only one in color

Katie smiled as he pulled her back to him, his face beaming and, as was tradition, they were joined on the floor by a few other couples, Tony and Pepper, Clint and Laura, Thor and Jane amongst them. Wanda and Natasha were dancing together too, in a joking, friendly way, which made Katie’s smile grow even larger.

You know how to set that mood You can light up any room Just by the way you move The only one who understands What I’ve given you you’ve given back Come on and take my hand

The music continued and, as the chorus struck up again Steve span her out once more, making her laugh and this time he pulled her back in so her back pressed against his chest. Wrapping both arms tightly around her middle he pressed a soft kiss to her neck, breathing her in deeply. Katie laughed, her hands coming to rest over his own, thumb stroking the new addition to his ring finger.

You turned an old world upside down A wave of calm when I was so tightly wound And so full of doubt I’ll never tell you that two’s a crowd I know I can’t get through without Ever needing you around

Steve knew everyone was watching, probably taking pictures or video along with the official photographer, but he didn’t care. Extending his arm above her head, he took hers with him and gently spun her to face him. His right hand slid up to cup her face and as he leaned close to capture her lips. Katie’s hand slid up to tangle in the back of his hair before she pulled away slowly and he let out a soft moan as his forehead dropped to hers.

"Mrs Rogers.” He whispered in her ear.

“Yeah?” “Nothing, I just wanted to say it.”

*******

“Garter off. No hands Rogers!” Nat yelled over the music as Katie sat in a chair on the dance floor. “That’s the rules.”

“Well we all know I’m a stickler for rules.” Steve grinned, discarding his jacket and tie to a few whoops and a loud whistle from his bride, he tossed them over a chair as the men in the party gathered around, the women standing a bit behind, Pepper explaining what was going onto Wanda.

Steve strolled casually past them, hands in his pockets, his eyes locked on Katie’s as she arched an eyebrow in an almost challenging manner. This was the point where he would normally flush red but he hadn’t got a shred of embarrassment about his nature thanks to the Asgardian alcohol which once more coursed through his veins. He gave her a grin as he dropped to his knees and then, with a devious wink, dove under her skirt. Katie giggled and covered her face with her hands whilst the outline of Steve’s broad shoulders could just be made out moving up her legs. But only she could feel his breath on her thighs. He grinned and pressed a soft but hot kiss to the very top of her thigh and it took everything in her not to jump or show any outward indication of his actions, but she did bite her lip when his teeth nipped down her thigh until he caught the lace of the blue garter that he himself had given to her the day before, then dragged it down her leg.

There were more whistles and cheers when he emerged from beneath her skirt with the garter in his mouth, a loud groan coming from Tony, before Steve took it in his hands, stood up and fired it towards the men. Sam was the catcher, hastily dropping it from one hand to the other until he finally snatched it, and looked around, winking at Natasha.

“What about it Red?” He grinned at her “Fancy a bit of Sammy-lovin’?”

“In your dreams birdbrain” she drawled, as everyone cackled.

**** All too soon their day came to an end, but Steve had one final surprise for Katie. She had been fully expecting to go back to their room at the compound but Steve simply shook his head and led her over to a waiting car which was parked on the expansive gravel driveway.

“We are not spending our wedding night at home, Kitten.” He said simply when she asked where they were going. The car drove them out of Brooklyn and into Manhattan as they drank more champagne, finally pulling up outside The Mark, where they were greeted by a red carpet and applause from staff.

Between the alcohol and being drunk on happiness, they were tripping over each other by the time they made it to the bridal suite. Steve opened the door into the huge room, and the pair of them stumbled forward. Laughing, Steve curled an arm round her.

“Hang on.” With a flourish he bent down and scooped her up, carrying her into the room and she giggled as he stepped forward, kicking the door shut behind them before dropping her to her feet. She spun round and grabbed a fist full of his shirt, just below his open collar button, bringing him down to kiss her, hard as they backed across the suite into the bedroom where Steve spun her round and carefully, delicately popped the buttons down her back, his fingers brushing her skin as her dress fell open and dropped, pooling at her feet, leaving her in nothing but a pair of white, lace French knickers

He leaned in and pressed soft kisses to the crook of her neck, nuzzling into her hair, as she reached up to remove the various clips, freeing her brunette tresses.

“God you’re beautiful.” He whispered as she spun to face him, eyes shining as she started to undo his shirt.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” she smirked as her hands gently undid the buttons on his shirt, her eyes never leaving his.

And then it was a race to get out of their remaining clothes before they both collapsed on the bed. Steve took his time, kissing down his wife’s body, running his fingers down her ribs before his hands gently parted her legs. His nose skimmed below her bellybutton before he moved downwards, nipping at her inner thigh before he set his mouth to her.

Katie groaned and all but melted into the bed letting him have and play with her all he wanted. Her first orgasm hit her hard in a ridiculously short amount of time and, leaving her breathless, he kissed all the way back up her body before he settled his hips against hers. He was rock hard and aching for her, and she shivered as he pressed up against where she needed him most.

He took her left hand in his, his thumb skating over her rings and placed a soft kiss over them before interlocking their fingers and pressing her hand down on the pillow next to her head.

“I love you so much, Mrs Rogers.” He mumbled leaning down and running his nose alongside hers.

“I love you too Captain Rogers.” She responded, holding eye contact with him as he slowly slid inside her, letting out a moan as she lay back and he kissed her again, deeply, passionately, slowly rocking into her. Katie rolled her hips up taking him deeper, moans flowing freely between the pair as he slowly built up his rhythm, releasing her hand so that he could grasp onto her hips. Katie’s arms wrapped around his shoulders pulling him in close and she buried her fingers into his hair.

“Faster.” She moaned, wrenching her mouth from his so she could breath and he didn’t hesitate to oblige. After a few more thrusts he slid his hand under her lower back and lifted her slightly, face buried in her neck, nipping, making her gasp and shudder as he hit her spot with every thrust of his hips until she was moaning and writhing and muttering nonsense.

Whether it was the passion of the day or the fact that it was just different because they were now married, for Steve it felt the most intense love they had ever made. It was the perfect way to finish off an amazing day and when they both fell apart completely immersed in one another, cries of names and curses tumbling from lips, Katie happily welcomed his weight on top of her as he caught his breath whilst she peppered soft kisses against his sweaty forehead before their noses gently rubbed against one another. Both of them remained, trembling in the afterglow and it took a while but finally Steve gathered enough strength to roll himself to the side where Katie immediately curled up into his side, her head on his chest.

“Was it everything you hoped for?” He asked, and she hummed blissfully as he carded his fingers through her hair

“And more.” she whispered softly.” And wanna know the best bit?” “What?” She moved so she could look up at him, her face soft as she gave him the most intimate and incredible smile he had ever seen on her face as she answered “We have the rest of our lives ahead.”

**** Chapter 27

**Original Posting**

[mirrerover]

Big Plans

“You know shit’s never gonna fucking change, right?” Jason makes to grab for his Zippo. Remembering Dick will happily remove his nuts from his waxed sack for even contemplating smoking inside Dick’s apartment, he stops. His fingers twitch with irritation, nothing like a little nicotine deprivation to start the day. “Gotham’s a gothic nightmare where corruption runs thicker than blood and Blüdhaven’s worse, somehow. Like looking in a funhouse mirror. Uglier. More warped.”

“I really do enjoy our little morning pep talks,” Dick replies, closing the last two buttons on his dress shirt before tucking the fabric into the waistline of his pants. In general, Jason would say he prefers the Kevlar-enhanced, ass-hugging suit Dick prowls the night in—but there’s something to be said for a crisp, white button-down with the sleeves rolled up, forearm veins on display. He doesn’t know how the Blüdhaven criminals are faring but, personally, he wouldn’t mind letting Detective Richard Grayson slap some cuffs on him. Let Dick work him over hard in a surveilled box until Jason cracks, raw and bloody under the harsh fluorescent lights. 

“These fucking places,” Jason grumbles, tired and cranky from watching Dick getting ready to leave, all that warm, gold skin about to slip right out the door. “It’s not something anyone can fix. Nothing short of dropping a bomb on the damn place and razing it to the ground.” 

Dick sighs, running a hand through his hair. It’s getting longer, strands brushing the bone of his jaw. He’s no stranger to this; Jason and the trash he talks. Words pouring out of him sharp as knives, the blades full of blood. Just endlessly spewing shit.

“No point to it all, huh?” Dick leans a hip against the dresser, arms folded, eyebrow raised. There’s an ease to him that’s inherent; the way he owns his body, his space, every room he’s in. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re trying to lure me back to bed.”

 Jason thinks it over. Admits, “not originally,” and lets his legs fall apart slowly. Nude body lounging against cheap, synthetic pillows, he’s got Dick’s low-rent sheets strategically draped across his crotch, all tasteful and shit. Just like the Renaissance paintings cluttering the hallways of the Wayne Manor. None of the shameless, naked peacocking Dick gets up to after sex. No, Jason’s classy. Artful. The signature Jason Todd brand. “But are you feelin’ down to fuck?” he asks. 

Dick throws his head back and laughs. Really fucking laughs. Eyes scrunched up and shoulders shaking, all charisma and beauty and warmth. Laughing like that, it’s suddenly easy to see how a group of metahumans chose Dick as their leader despite his lack of superpowers or how the Blüdhaven Police Corps would accept him as their own despite him being the ward of Gotham’s favourite billionaire asshole. There’s something about Dick like there’s something about Bruce. Something captivating and inescapable that would make you launch a thousand ships for them. Burn down entire worlds for them. Jason’s not sure Dick’s aware of that. And in a way, Jason thinks he understands the Joker better than Bruce ever could. 

Dick’s laughter fades too slowly, and Jason would be annoyed but there’s a tightness to Dick’s pants that wasn’t there two minutes ago, and Dick’s always laughing. Joyful and happy. Like those are easy feelings to conjure and easy feelings to have. As if getting out of bed isn’t like crawling out of a dark pit every morning and as if life isn't like taking a suckerpunch to the gut, over and over.

“Wish I could,” Dicks says, and Jason swears he sounds like he means it. “But I got big plans today. Gotta save a city.”

“‘Save a city.’ Jesus Christ. More like go get shanked in the gut.”

Dick shrugs and slips on a watch. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

The other bats all have their day jobs. The Police Detective, the Socialite, the rising Tech Wunderkind, and Jason’s personal favourite: the Student. Jason derives no small amount of pleasure from knowing that Bruce and the Demon Spawn get to suffer through the worst of it. Like an ill-fitted suit, Jason hopes it pulls and itches every time they’ve got to slip their disguises on. It shows how removed they are from the rot and the grit and the filth of what is Gotham. The gore at the core of it all. 

That’s where Jason lives, at its epicentre. 

He’d fallen into it naturally, being a crime lord. It had been a logical first step when he’d come home, head full of green fumes and rage. He’s proud to say, he puts the organized in organized crime. Outshines even the worst of them in calculated vicious violence. The crime part of the job, Jason can admit he’s gotten more discerning about. There’s no peddling drugs to kids or bleeding junkies dry, no people traded like cattle, and he doesn’t like selling guns to the lowlifes clogging Gotham’s streets. So, he’s become a parasite instead. Infiltrates a crime organisation and eats it from the inside out till it finally collapses. Scraps the dead beast for parts and money.

It’s not something Jason talks about with this version of Dick. His shady deals, his underground moonlighting. Never with a cop like the one making his way to the bed right now, uniform tight over thick thighs and a sway in his hips that’s nothing less than sexual warfare. 

“Try smoking in my bed again, Todd,” Dick warns, looming over him. He stops whatever threat he was going to utter, disrupted by Jason grousing at him to fucking let that go already. Perfectly pleasant, Dick does exactly that. Just stares at Jason with a face far too naked and utterly too fond. Something’s creeping under Jason’s skin at the sight of it—an itch he doesn’t know how to scratch, unable to decide whether he wants to kiss the prick or break his perfect face instead.

A little lower, there’s a bruise peeking out of Dick’s collar that looks like a handprint. Jason had put that there last night. Violently. Not even the fun kind of violent but the messy kind. The kind where something hunts Jason through nightmares and his body acts before his sleeping brain has had the chance to catch up—that kind of violence. Maybe a better person would wallow in the guilt and remove themselves from the situation. Not Dick and Jason. They just get better at hiding the batarangs and guns. The 200 pounds of well-trained muscle and murderous reflexes are a little harder to counteract but Dick’s no babe in the woods. Besides, Jason’s not exactly the first lethal bitch between Dick’s bedsheets.

Dick smiles. A teasing thing full of soft edges. “Mornings are hard. Aren’t they, Sugarplum?”

“Fuck you to hell.” Jason groans with feeling, hating the hard lumps of Dick’s mattress when he sinks back into them. “Just get lost already, Birdbrain. There’s no fucking point to you with your clothes on.”

“Nice to know I’m not completely useless.”

Jason wants to fight that far too favourable self-assessment. Would fight it, were he not half a pack of Lucky Strikes and three cups of coffee short of mustering the energy. Which is also the only reason he’s letting Dick press an off-centre kiss to his forehead. A shitty place for a shitty kiss from a shitty person, if you ask Jason. Very much Dick Grayson’s style.

“Try and behave, Little Wing.” Dick’s already moving away from the bed and shrugging on a jacket. “I really like this place. Got three South facing windows and none of the neighbours run a meth lab.”

“Prime Blüdhaven real estate,” Jason mutters darkly.

“Glad we’re on the same page.” Dick takes one last look at himself at the mirror, shoots Jason a tacky wink because his existence is a curse, and promises under his breath something that sounds suspiciously like I’ll be back or I’ll miss you. Another twenty seconds later and Jason hears the front door lock click back into place.

His day is wide open now. 

There are things to do but there are always things to do. At any time, Jason’s got about forty things in various stages of motion. Always working on something. Someone. Bigger games than the one he’s running on Dick right now, lighting one up in his bed.

Blowing smoke up into the air, Jason decides that today he’s going to crack the safe Dick keeps behind the panel in his closet. Perfectly harmless, really. Just him fishing through some of Dick’s case files—maybe even solving a few, if he’s feeling charitable. And for tonight, there’s that Malaysian place three blocks over that does a better Rendang than anything he’s found in Gotham. Dick never shuts up about it. Like he’s never going to shut up about the cigarette smell seeping into the wallpaper.

Jason smirks. Solid options. He still has last night’s terrors painted on the back of his eyelids and the feeling of Dick’s neck under his hand but they’re slowly fading. And Dick’s got him covered, said he’d take care of the big plans, so Jason doesn’t have to. And next time, when Jason’s Dick and Dick’s Jason, he’ll have Dick covered too. Jason will tackle the big plans while Dick raids Jason’s fridge and leaves wet towels all over his apartment. Jason knows it’ll happen. It has happened. Just not today.

Maybe tomorrow.

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

@wethatake thanks for being the beta and basically a co-writer. You suck but I love you. <3 Here’s to hoping that your sad little sack of a co-worker doesn’t kill you. XD

[drunkserval]

A Fresh Canvas: Incomplete Preview

Quite some time ago I did a silly little thread on Twitter, and I’ve always wanted to take that and actually make something out of it. Well it was a little harder than expected, but it’s coming along!

When I have the entire thing done I will be uploading it to AO3, but for now it seemed seasonally appropriate to at least drop this.

I wanted to have this posted yesterday but festivities kept me busier than expected! Story is below the cut. Keep in mind that this is still technically a rough draft, and will receive its final beta pass before the full story hits AO3.

(Tentative) Title: A Fresh Canvas Fandom: Scum Villain’s Self-Saving System by MXTX Rating: G, No Warnings Apply Summary: Shen Jiu and Shen Yuan are neighbors in the same modern apartment complex who, despite looking similar enough to be mistaken for each other, couldn’t be any more different. Or so they think.

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

Shen Jiu and Shen Yuan were neighbors in the same apartment complex. They lived on the same floor, in the same hall, and were often mistaken for one another due to this proximity combined with how similar their appearances were.

But there were key differences, as both would readily point out to their neighbors. Shen Jiu’s hair hung shy of his shoulders while Shen Yuan’s was shorter and lighter in tone. 

And still the mix-ups kept happening, particularly if they were at some distance or facing away. The misunderstanding would very rarely last past the first glance since Shen Jiu would snap and take immediate offense, and Shen Yuan would just sigh and say, "Sorry, wrong one."

Shen Yuan had no idea why Shen Jiu got so offended over it. Surely he didn’t look that bad, come on!

The neighbors eventually started learning to look at the clothes first--or to at least look for Shen Yuan’s thick-rimmed glasses. 

Both men carried and dressed themselves so differently. Shen Yuan dressed in hoodies and jeans--well, if he was planning on going any further than the mailbox, that was. Otherwise why bother changing out of pajamas or sweatpants?

On the other hand, Shen Jiu didn’t touch anything that wasn’t from a known designer. 

Shen Jiu spent proudly--and why shouldn’t he? Because he at least earned his money!

That Shen Yuan kid down the hall? Rumor was that his parents were paying his rent and he'd never had a real job in his life.

But because he never went out, Shen Yuan was one of the only people still hanging around the apartment complex when Shen Jiu went around knocking during a major holiday. 

In Shen Jiu’s arms was a box containing two fluffy black pups.

Shen Yuan’s eyes widened at the sight of them and he completely forgot to greet his neighbor until Shen Jiu cleared his throat. The dogs were like little storm clouds with feet and stubby tails, staring back at him with big black eyes. One started wagging its tail with such vigor that its whole back end wiggled about.

It took Shen Jiu a moment to find his voice as he followed, such was the state that his neighbor had chosen to answer the door in. Hideous cucumber-print pajama pants, a tacky anime shirt covered in snack crumbs, and unkempt hair had greeted him. But the continuous movement of the box in his arms reminded him of his mission. 

“I found... ” Shen Jiu shifted the box in indication as Shen Yuan shut the door behind them, “these, out by the garbage.”

Shen Yuan blinked as the other passed by him, “Have you tried calling any nearby shelters?”

“Of course I have,” Shen Jiu scoffed at the implication that he was so simple. “You try getting a real person on the phone today, though. It’s impossible. I could only leave messages.”

Shen Yuan put a finger to his lips, “Oh, right. Today is…” Glancing at a wall calendar almost as ugly as his shirt he nodded, “Right. Right.”

Did this kid ever so much as leave the building? Shen Jiu was starting to wonder. Shen Yuan dressed like he’d just rolled out of bed in the latter part of the daytime. And he hadn’t realized it was a major holiday. And then there were the countless odorous takeout boxes covering every available surface in his apartment.

Shen Jiu wrinkled his nose but still asked in spite of his rapidly growing doubts, “You don’t know anyone who can take these little mutts in for a day or two, do you?”

Shen Yuan shook his head and heard Shen Jiu sigh. His neighbor set the box down to give his arms a rest… but Shen Yuan couldn’t seem to rip his attention away from one of the pups. It hadn’t stopped staring at him, or shaking its fluffy little behind, for a moment.

“What if we take them in?”

Shen Jiu’s tone was flat, “What.”

Shen Yuan picked up the excited little pup and it immediately started wiggling in his grasp. Not struggling, however--just trying to get closer to his face, paws waving in the air and its little pink tongue darting out to reach for him even though it was still well outside of range. He had to fight back the urge to laugh at the silly little storm cloud. 

“The building allows us to have one animal per unit, right?” Shen Yuan shrugged, “so what if we each took one, even just long enough to find them new homes?”

Shen Jiu frowned. Taking in a dog, or really any animal, had never been on his agenda. He liked his nice clean apartment and intact furniture unlike a certain someone. Plus he was more partial to cats. He moved his gaze from the overexcited animal back to the box. Though the pups looked identical on the surface this one was clearly the calmer one. It looked up at his scowling face but put forth no such ridiculous display… thank goodness.

Who knew? Maybe Shen Yuan’s idea wasn’t so bad. And if it was, it was only a temporary arrangement, in the end. He might be able to get rid of the animal as soon as tomorrow if it was truly intolerable.

Tentatively, Shen Jiu reached out to pick up the dog…

And felt tiny teeth close around his fingers.

Jerking his hand backwards, Shen Jiu sneered down at the animal. “What, you ungrateful little beast!” 

Shen Yuan finally stopped cooing at his own pup to look over and said, “Maybe he doesn’t like your cologne?”

“And what’s wrong with my cologne?” Shen Jiu snapped, voice raising.

Stepping back, “Nothing, nothing!”

“It was a gift, you know!”

Shen Yuan barely avoided tripping over a haphazard stack of game cases as he kept moving away. “P-perhaps it’s just too strong for a dog’s nose, that’s all!”

This time Shen Jiu moved quickly, snatching up the dog by its middle before it could get its ridiculously tiny muzzle around anything, and he stared directly into the animal’s eyes.

“Do that again, and I’ll put you back out in the cold where I found you. Understood?”

The dog stared back at him, placid and indifferent… until its tongue darted out and licked the end of his nose.

“...good enough.”

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

It was a few days before the two of them crossed paths again. 

It’d seem they both had decided to keep their newfound pets and they were both out that day to take the dogs for walks.

The air in the park was warm, so they sat themselves on a bench to enjoy it for a bit longer and soak up some of the sunlight that was so rare that time of year. Shen Jiu’s pup sat like a sentry at his feet while Shen Yuan’s pup curled up on his lap the moment he sat down. 

It was through the ensuing conversation they realized they both gave their dog the same name by sheer coincidence.

One was too lazy and the other was too stubborn, so neither changed it. At least they’d bought different-colored collars. But this brought to light a new revelation, and Shen Yuan just had to ask…

“How did you come up with it?”

“It was just the first thing to come to mind,” Shen Jiu had explained, “from something I’ve been reading, probably.”

"Wait, you read that too!?"

As he suspected! That name was from one of the top-rated web novels that year, from its stallion protagonist: Luo Binghe!

Shen Yuan couldn’t imagine someone as outwardly prim as Shen Jiu reading trashy webnovels, but it turned out to be true. It was just a quick, easy way for him to kill a few minutes of downtime at work, Shen Jiu reasoned in his defense.

Whenever they met up from that point forward, Shen Yuan talked his ear off about his various grievances with Proud Immortal Demon Way.

‘Villains that dig their own graves but don’t bother finishing! Women that lead the protagonist on a three-chapter long subplot just to get to their lewd scenes, only to never see them again! And every single character lost all of their intelligence when the protagonist came around!’ 

And yet he had nothing but praise for said protagonist… almost excessive praise. 

Shen Jiu is annoyed at first but he starts enjoying the company. Which is good because the dog turns out to be a menace.

Well, both dogs could be counted as menaces, just in different ways.

Bing-mei (as they come to call him) would start whining so pitifully when Shen Yuan shut the door between them, thus he often just gave up and took the dog with him whenever it was feasible.

Bing-ge, on the other hand, broke his toys within days, climbed around on furniture he wasn’t allowed on--sometimes when Shen Jiu was looking right at him, too--he barked, he scratched furniture, he tore up pillows.

Despite all the trouble he was causing for his master, Shen Jiu would no longer entertain the idea of giving him up. Not after Bing-ge tore up three separate muggers on three separate occasions and growled at the person who kept taking his parking space until it never happened again.

But the biggest takeaway from their conversations, for Shen Jiu, wasn’t webnovels or dogs. It made him start to realize how lonely he'd been. 

The only other person he really spoke to was halfway around the world for their work and they only spoke a couple of times a month. Now that Shen Yuan was around, Shen Jiu actually started to have things to look forward to besides the monotony of work--knocks on the door, long walks with the dogs, the occasional cup of tea afterward on colder days...

Shen Jiu was never the sort to be up-front with his feelings, so he found a way to show his gratitude by helping Shen Yuan with his confidence issues. He started encouraging him to go out more, and to put a little more effort into his looks when he did. This morphed into helping clean up his squalid apartment since Shen Jiu could barely stand to look at it when he came over. 

Months later, Shen Jiu’s recommendation had helped Shen Yuan to land an entry-level job. That, and a steady habit of going out once a week, gave them something else to do and talk about.

Progress was slow, but visible. Shen Yuan seemed a little less awkward in public with each passing week.

One night they were leaning on Shen Yuan’s balcony. It was a night of celebration, for he’d just earned his very first promotion, and Shen Jiu had brought over wine for the occasion.

He found himself leaning closer to Shen Jiu, telling himself it was just to get a better look at him in the dim light of the city night. His focus wasn’t the best even when he was sober after all. Yet Shen Yuan didn’t stop. And when Shen Jiu turned to look at him in confusion, and their lips met, he didn’t withdraw for several seconds.

Neither did Shen Jiu.

Shen Yuan tried to flee as soon as he realized what he’d done only for Shen Jiu to pull him back saying:

"Don't run, take responsibility. We talked about this."

[shadow--writer]

Is This Love or am I Dreaming?

😌 woke up today and chose violence (aka I stayed up writing this and cried)

@dela-png​ and I were talking about Maeve and Lucas and what they’d fight about and well this wouldn’t leave my smol brain, so enjoy 💕💕💕💕

Maeve x Lucas, angst, 2.5k words. --Lucas reversed ending-ish--

TW/tags (”real” triggers will be marked!): brief description of an injury, overworking, neglect, fighting, a whole lotta angst, and god I hope I got his character right

(title is from this song, it’s really good, give it a listen!)

~~~~

The candles were burning low. With them her energy. He wasn’t back yet. Of course he wasn’t. She knew him. Sometimes he’d come back late.

Other times he’d fall asleep at his desk leaving her alone in an empty bed.

She rubbed her arms, the summer so hot the heat was almost sticking to her skin. Her bangs were plastered across her forehead with her sweat. It had been a long day in the infirmary. She was tired. She was lonely. 

She missed him. He wasn’t gone, but...in a way he was. She missed him so much it hurt. 

She closed her eyes, rubbing her temples. She knew if she focused too much on it she’d get a headache. This amount of stress wasn’t good for you but… 

She looked away from the papers spread out on the small desk a few feet away from her...their bed. It used to be everytime she thought of it being their room and their bed and their space she got butterflies. But he was gone so often it had become hers, hadn’t it?

She pushed herself away from the desk, going to get ready for bed. It was a little late for a bath, she’d probably take one in the morning. Sleeping was going to be a miserable experience but...

It wasn’t like he was around to care.

Anger snapped up at her stomach like a vise. She knew he had a lot to do. She knew he had a lot of responsibilities. She knew how important this was to him.

But...wasn’t she important too? Didn’t he care about her? 

He said he did but...she didn’t know anymore and it hurt. 

The door to their room creaked open, Maeve freezing in her tracks.

It was late. Normally he’d be asleep at his desk. Normally she’d be asleep. Alone.

They met eyes. 

“Lucas,” she said, the musical tone of her voice gone. In its place was something flat and unfeeling.

It hurt. 

It hurt so much. 

“...Maeve,” he murmured, trying to hide the new injury on his arm. 

Her anger returned, roaring with a vengeance. 

“Sit down,” she said, her tone offering no place for arguing. He was covered in ash, probably went to check out the fire that happened earlier that week. No one was hurt, but a bunch of houses were lost.

He looked how she felt. 

He followed her orders, falling into a chair with a ‘thump’. His hair hung over his eyes, slowly losing its curl due to sweat and ash. He was going to need a bath too.

She gathered her bandages, herbs and medicines. This was not the time for anything fancy.

But she couldn’t stop the rage she felt when she looked at him.

She tugged her desk chair over to him, sitting down and focusing on the wound. 

His skin was warm and tacky with sweat. Blood oozed down the large cut. She swiped a damp rag over it. A muscle twitched in his cheek but he didn’t say anything.

“Welcome home,” she said, not hiding the bitterness in her tone. He deserved to hear it. He deserved her anger. “I missed you.”

He only grunted in response, fueling the ebbing, festering anger.

“You’ve got to stop this.” Every time. Every time he’d come back to her it was for an injury. She knew he didn’t trust easily. She knew she was his go to for help.

But it stung when your boyfriend would only come to see you when he was hurt. 

Another grunt in response. 

He wasn’t listening to her. Again. 

As usual.

She tightened the bandage with a little more force than necessary, trying to keep from lashing out. 

It fucking hurt. It hurt so much it was hard to breathe. 

“You need to stop overworking yourself,” she said, trying to force her voice to be soft, fingers brushing his before falling into her lap. Her feet were bare and curled around one another. She felt alone and vulnerable.

“There’s so much I have to do,” he replied.

“And? Why can’t they give you a break? Haven’t you done enough on your own? Why not let someone else take the burden?” she snapped, his eyes meeting hers again.

She pissed him off but she didn’t care. Let him be angry. Let him feel an inkling of what she did. He deserved it for what he was doing.

Not only to himself, but her too.

“I can’t. You know this,” he spat.

Her hands trembled in clenched fists. “I don’t. I don’t know that. Because in my eyes, you have a whole fucking team of people and yet you do everything yourself.”

“Because I can’t trust anyone else to do it.”

“Then why do you even have them?!”

He gritted his teeth. “Because I need them.”

She breathed in sharply. “And yet, you don’t use them.”

“These are not their jobs!”

“THEN WHAT ARE THEIR JOBS?” She couldn’t stop her voice from rising to a yell. She couldn’t stop herself from jumping to her feet. The chair fell back with a crash but she didn’t care. “If they are so useful then what do they do?!” 

She was losing control. Her hands warmed. Her eyes flashed. Her nose burned with unshed tears.

But she did not care. 

“They help me, Maeve! They are there to support the people!”

“While you do all the heavy lifting because you can’t let anyone in?!”

“It’s dangerous and you know it.”

“Lucas, they are your CONSUL. If you can’t trust them to do even the simplest of tasks, then why do you have them?! What is their use?”

“Maeve we are not going to have this conversation again!”

“Maybe if you just listen to me we wouldn’t be discussing this for the hundredth time!” 

He growled, deep and low in his throat. She snapped her teeth back, balling her hands into fists. His imitation tactics would not work on her.

“Lucas I am here to help you, they are here to help you. So let us!”

“This is my job Maeve! I can’t ask you to take the burden!” He was yelling now. They both were. They probably woke half the palace up by now.

She. Did. Not. Care. 

“Then why am I here?!” she snapped. He looked like she had slapped him. Her eyes burned with tears. 

“Because I let you be.” His voice was low. It was angry. It was a command. 

And it hurt. 

She stepped back, pushing the chair back with her steps. He didn’t look at her, just held a hand on his new bandage. “Thanks...for fixing me up.”

She didn’t reply, just let the tears roll down her face as she looked at the ground.

“I’m going to get back to work.”

He started walking to the door. He almost made it by the time she spoke up again. She was done playing his game. She was done fighting with him. 

She was done sleeping alone. 

“I’ll leave.”

He froze, one hand on the doorknob. “What?”

She forced her head up, showing her tears with a streak of pride. If she couldn’t convince him with words, then she would with actions.

“You heard me. I’ll leave.”

He turned to look at her, fury barely being contained in his eyes. Those two words caused a dam to break inside him. 

Good. 

“Why? Because you don’t love me anymore? So you’re gonna leave like everyone else? Now that I don’t give you what you want you’re just gonna walk out on me?”

His words cut deep. She actually gasped from the pain.

“You...you think I’m here for something other than the fact that I love you?” she gasped out. “You think I’m here for something?!” She couldn’t stop her fury.

It hit her in waves.

First it was cool, then her body trembled and warmed. 

Then she was on fire.

“You think I’m here for some object? For some thing?” 

“Maeve. I...no I’m…” he seemed to be at a loss for words, floundering. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Lucas I am here because I love you! But I do not want to be your doctor.” She swiped at her tears. “Do you know...how much it hurts to only see your love when they’re hurt? Having the only conversations with them be arguments? Do you know how much it hurts to watch them kill themselves because they can’t let you in?!”

“Maeve-”

“I am going to say this once.” She stood with her legs spread wide. She stood to feel powerful. She stepped closer to him, her strides filled with purpose.

“If you do not get your shit together, then I will leave. If you do not listen to people, if you do not let them in. If you don’t take a break and trust people I will walk out that door!” Her voice snapped over the last word in her sentence.

Cracking and shattering. 

She was a mess. She was dizzy. She was angry. The heat of the summer made her clothes cling to her. One of the legs on her pants was rolled up to her knee, her shirt was falling off her shoulder. Her hair fell in ringlets around her shoulders. There was blood on her shirt. 

Sweat dripped down the back of her neck, she only felt the all encompassing heat of her deep buried magic.

She did not care.

“I am here because I love you. I am here because I trust and care about you. But if you can’t trust and care about me back, then I will save myself the heartache and go.”

She was fighting back a sob. 

She turned her back to him, not wanting him to see her tears get heavier. They fell like rain. She didn’t stop them, nor did she want to. 

She bent down and picked up the chair, moving it next to the one he sat in. 

The world spun. Her chest ached.

She missed him so much. She loved him so much. She cared, loved, felt about him so strongly it cut deep. 

Like a festering wound left untreated, she stood there. Her skin burned, she bit her cheek to keep from breaking down right there. She wouldn’t. Not while he was still there. 

He stood in silence behind her, she could feel him. Shifting back and forth. Waiting. Watching. 

She moved to go to...their...bathroom. If he wasn’t going to leave, then she would move away so she wouldn’t have to see him. 

He grabbed her hand, fingers closing around hers gently. So gently. A movement and she’d be out of his grasp. 

She stopped, bringing her foot back to stand still.

He squeezed her hand once.

She waited a moment before squeezing back. 

They stood in silence, hands clasped, for a few heartbeats.

The blood roaring in her ears slowed. His breathing soon became all that she heard. 

He let go of her hand, fingers ghosting up the length of her arm. She felt goosebumps erupt on her skin.

His touch was so light and so gentle she wanted to break down. She wanted to break down with how much she missed it. 

His hand brushed her shoulder, not bothering to adjust the shirt falling down. She almost gasped with how cold his fingertips were. He held his hand against the side of her neck, and against her better judgment she leaned into his touch.

“...I’m sorry,” he whispered, voice thick with emotion.

“I know,” she responded, choking on the words. 

His hand dropped from her neck as he looped his arms around her waist, tugging her into his chest. 

She didn’t look up at him, just leaned into his embrace and cried.

She could feel his tears as they fell onto her hair, and they stood in silence together. 

He was a mess and probably smeared ash all over her with his touch. Ash and ink from working on something. 

Hell she didn’t even know.

She let out a small sob, leaning back into him. She missed him. His touch. Her skin burned. “Hold me,” she whispered. “Please, Lucas please hold me.” She was begging. 

She ached for him. 

She wanted him.

Please.

It was a desperate plea but all she wanted was him. 

He leaned closer, kissing the top of her head as they cried. “Please. Lucas. Please,” she whispered, repeating it over

And over

And over

And over again.

Falling for a man like this was never easy. She hated how neglectful he was.

But in quiet moments like this, none of it seemed to matter.

It wasn’t until her legs gave out and became wobbly that he moved again.

He scooped her up, cradling her close. She couldn’t stop her tears once they started, pouring out all her loneliness and hurt out. 

He only softly hushed her, rocking her back and forth and he settled her into the sheets. 

He shifted as if he was going to leave and she grabbed his hand, hiccuping. She was going to hate herself in the morning but she didn’t care.

“Don’t go. Don't go please. Please, please don’t go,” she cried, the tears falling faster. “Lucas stay with me.”

His name on her lips stopped him again. He sat back down, back to her, her hand still on his arm.

His next word was slow. Slow, thick, emotional, wanting. “Okay.”

And he stayed.

He took off his boots, turning over to bundle her up in his arms. His eyes were red and blotchy. His hands trembled around her, her shirt rising up. She didn’t care, fisting the fabric of his shirt in her quivering hands.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered to her hair. “I’m so sorry.” He repeated it, each time his voice cracking.

“I know. I know,” she whispered back, trying to get closer. Closer. It wasn’t enough. It would never be close enough. “I miss you,” she whispered, lips brushing his collar bone. “Missed you here with me. I miss you so much Lucas. It hurts. Why does it hurt so much?”

He didn’t respond, just held her closer, whispering soft intelligible things to her hair. 

She sniffled, kissing his neck. He tasted like salt. He had smudges of ash up his jaw. He probably got smudges on her and her clothes.

“You need a bath,” she murmured.

“I know,” he rumbled. “You need one too.”

She smiled, tears spilling from her eyes again. She missed their talks. Jokes. Flirtations. He had gotten quiet with his new position. 

She missed his voice. 

“Is that an invitation?”

He chuckled, toying with the ends of her hair. “And if it is?”

She kissed his neck again, her breath warm against his skin. His office probably had a drafty window. “If it’s an invitation.” Another kiss, this one made him squirm a little. “My answer is yes.”

He didn’t respond, but she could feel him smile.

He pressed a kiss into her hair, and they settled into silence.

She knew this was going to be hard.

She knew he wasn’t going to be easy to get along with.

She knew he wasn’t going to listen to her all the time.

She knew she was just as hard-headed and stubborn as he was.

But in that moment all she could feel was how much she loved him. In that soft, emotionally charged moment, it was all she wanted. 

And sometimes, that was enough. 

[prurientpuddlejumper]

Glad You Didn’t Die

this isn’t new—it’s an excerpt from A Lipless Face That I Want to Marry but I was re-reading it and honestly I love this little scene? It stands on its own as a drabble, so I’m posting it alone because I can

pre-Frederick Chilton x Reader 

Frederick Chilton awoke in a bare and lonely hospital room.

A nurse came in to check on him after a few minutes of blinking groggily and trying to get his bearings through the static fuzz clouding his mind. She explained what had happened, reviewed the medications he was on, showed him the button to press to call for help, and handed him a remote control. 

No visitors to announce. No one waiting in the lobby all night, haggard with worry, for him to regain consciousness. No flowers crowding the bedside table.

The small television attached to the far wall, which he could barely see or hear, was less than useless, and the morphine drip prevented him from being able to focus enough to read a book. So he lay in bed, alone, in silence save for the tedious beep of the heart monitor.

It was so dull, he was grateful for having been unconscious for the last thirty hours, which was how long it took for the surgeons to get all the organs back inside of him that Abel Gideon took out, determining which ones were viable to go back, and which would go septic and kill him. Like a jigsaw puzzle. Humpty Dumpty, and not all of the pieces could be put together again.

Days passed, and his only visitor was a police officer there on a formality to take his statement.

He would have thought being disemboweled would make a man more popular. This spared him his pride, at least—he couldn’t tolerate visitors seeing him pale and clammy-skinned, whimpering with pain in a miserable little hospital gown—and for that he was grateful of his churlish nature, which pushed everyone well past arm’s length.

And yet, he wished they would at least try. He wanted people clamoring at his recovery room door so that he could send them away.

He would never be subjected to the indignity of being seen so weak—and yet, what he wouldn’t give to walk in to his office on his first day back and have all of his employees treat him softly, like he was some fragile thing, and not the tyrant they despised. To have them ask if he was all right.

Why didn’t he have more visitors? More flowers? More cards?

He was not well-liked, but he was distinguished. That warranted somebody stopping by with condolences. It was just that there was so little in his bare hospital room to distract him from the pain.

As the anesthetic wore off, a throbbing soreness radiated out from his abdomen, growing sharper with time. It was agonizing. With every breath, the contracting of his diaphragm and the expanding of his lungs and ribs tormented the stitches in his skin and the abused organs inside. 

His mother sent a card, and so did the staff of the Baltimore State Hospital For The Criminally Insane. Both had flowers on the front, watercolor roses, and flowing script font in gold, and both meant equally little.

Perfunctory.

The one from the hospital had been insisted upon by the administrator, who had forced the staff to sign it. Each message was generic and impersonal, like they’d been taken from a standardized get-well form letter—although a few were kind enough to make him close his eyes and pretend they were genuinely meant for him. “We miss you, and wish you a speedy recovery!” His heart turned to think one of his employees really missed him and looked forward to him returning. He found the name signed under the message. He had no idea who it was, but he was certain he had never spoken to them.

The one from his mother had most likely been picked out by a maid, presented to her to mark her signature, and then mailed by said maid. It served mainly as a reminder that she hadn’t bothered to visit in person.

Both stung more to receive than if he had no cards at all—written proof that the only way anyone cared for him was as a formality.

There was a third card, however. The only one sent by someone who wasn’t socially obligated to.

You.

Unlike the others, it was completely unexpected. Jack Crawford, Alana Bloom, or Hannibal Lecter he would have understood, but you were last person he expected to hear from.

It wasn’t even a real card, but printed at home on plain, flimsy printer paper with a cartoon dog wearing a cone-collar that said “Sorry you’re feeling ruff” on the cover. The inside had a short, hand-written message: Glad you didn’t die.

Childish. Cheap. He should have been insulted. The whole thing was obviously intended to convey how little you cared. But he kept the damned thing long after he’d thrown the other two in the trash. He wished you would come visit so he could tell you how tacky you were to your face. Perhaps it was best that you didn’t—he would have wanted to buy himself flowers to fill the room with first, so it wouldn’t seem as if your tasteless little gesture was anything of significance to him.

He was Dr. Frederick Chilton. It was important for you to know that he didn’t need you at all.

[zeplerfer]

Hidden Depths - last chapter

[Read it on AO3]

Sunlight filtered into the cavern through a vast opening in the rock formation. Everywhere the sun touched was green and growing. Trees grew at the base of the cavern, stretching upward towards the light, while moss covered the striated rock faces. From a smaller sunlit opening, a waterfall cascaded down a rock wall and into a crystal-clear stream.

Walking arm-in-arm, Alfred and Arthur slowly made their way down a path carved into the side of the cavern. The path cut back and forth down the steep rock face, adding significant time to their journey, but delivering them to the bottom of the cavern in a much less lethal manner.

By the time they arrived at the base, Arthur needed a moment to rest. Old bones didn’t move as fast as they used to and they ached more than he remembered from the last time he had climbed down the path.

The underground forest was calm and serene—a hidden oasis sheltered from the elements and filled with many fond memories. A few bluebirds flitted among the trees, adding a pop of blue to the green canopy.

“Absolutely gorgeous,” Alfred murmured, which was what he always said when they reached the bottom of the path. He smiled into Arthur’s eyes as he said it. The years had treated Alfred kindly, salting his blond hair with gray and adding laugh lines next to the corners of his eyes. His eyes still twinkled mischievously as he snuck hand pies out of Arthur’s saddlebags when he thought Arthur wasn’t looking. He’d lost some speed and agility over the past couple decades, but training young warriors kept him in good shape.

“It is beautiful, isn’t it?” Arthur agreed, surveying the cavern with pride. Nature had provided the starting point, but he had artfully augmented it with magic—expanding the opening of the natural skylight and encouraging the foliage to grow green and glossy.

“I was talking about you,” Arthur teased, nudging Arthur gently in the side.

Arthur rolled his eyes. “I know. You’ve made that joke a million times.”

Together they strolled down the path to what would someday be the heart of Arthur’s mage temple. They crossed over a wooden bridge to a grassy open space in front of a cascading set of waterfalls. The water pooled at the base of the waterfalls before flowing away in a stream that led further underground. A slate monolith stood at the center of the pool, waiting to be carved with words of wisdom.

They sat down on a rock next to the waterfall that Arthur had sculpted into the shape of a bench some years earlier, back when he started to ache from sitting on the ground. Arthur closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He focused on pouring a portion of his magical energy into the stone, adding to a reservoir that would one day power his finest magical creation.

Alfred fidgeted next to him. He hummed a drinking song and then began muttering to himself. “I forgot how boring this was,” Alfred complained as he tapped his toes and waited for Arthur to finish.

Eventually, after a deep inhale and a long exhale, Arthur opened his eyes. The monolith glimmered with power and its reflection sparkled in the shallow pool of water.

“So, figured out your plan for it yet?” Alfred asked

“I have some ideas. I’ve been studying Erzébet’s research notes.”

Alfred frowned. “Wait, isn’t she the one who…?”

“Yes, she made the soulmate spell. Fascinating woman. Her research was all about identifying people with highly compatible personalities. She was also, um, apparently very partial to men falling in love with each other. Had her own little harem, but according to her notes she mostly watched.”

Alfred’s jaw dropped. “Are you telling me that spell paired us together because a dead mage liked watching men have sex?” He crossed his arms. “And when you said you were stuck in your tower reading old notes for ‘research,’ you were just reading century-old erotica!”

“Oh, please.” Arthur scoffed. “I don’t need erotica when I have you around.”

“Yeah. I am pretty good, aren’t I?” Alfred bragged.

Arthur just rolled his eyes. “As I was saying, I wanted to know how the spell worked. It gives you the impression that you must sacrifice your life or the life of someone else for the spell to work. The first mages who visited the temple failed the test because they chose to save their own lives. That’s why they told everyone what a dangerous spell it was.”

A look of horror crossed Alfred’s face. “You mean the spell actually kills your soulmate if you choose to save your own life?”

“No. She wasn’t that cruel. The spell just ends and it doesn’t let you try again. You may go the rest of your life without meeting your soulmate.” Arthur gazed at the waterfall thoughtfully. “If I hadn’t already met you, that could have easily been me,” he mused aloud. “It would take an incredibly selfless person to be willing to sacrifice their own life to save a stranger.”

Alfred tilted his head to the side. “So if you passed the test, why did it try to drown you?”

“Ah, that’s the interesting part. Erzébet realized it wouldn’t always be possible for your soulmate to appear right away. There are limits to what even magic can do. So she added a secondary portion of the spell to hold you in stasis until your soulmate arrived.”

“Oh.” Understanding dawned on Alfred’s face. “Like a sleep spell.”

Arthur nodded. “I blacked out as soon as I was in the water. I don’t remember anything until you pulled me out. I think I was in there for at least several minutes.”

“That’s… wow.” Alfred took Arthur’s hand and gently rubbed his thumb over the back of Arthur’s hand in soothing circles. Age spots marked Arthur’s skin, but it was still warm and soft.

“And then there was poor Dorian,” Arthur continued. “He was the last one to visit before me. Never came back. I think he passed the first test, but for whatever reason there wasn’t a person with a sufficiently compatible personality.”

Alfred shivered. “You mean he’s still in that lake?”

“Yes. Waiting some day for his soulmate to appear.” Arthur shook his head sadly. “I informed the magic circle, but it’s a nearly impossible spell to break.” He sighed and leaned his head on Alfred’s shoulder. “Makes me realize how incredibly fortunate I was.”

Alfred squeezed Arthur’s hand. “What are you talking about? I’m the lucky one.”

“I suppose we’ll just have to agree to disagree,” Arthur offered with a chuckle.

“Arguing with you isn’t as fun as it used to be,” Alfred teased.

“Well, if you want a real argument, we could discuss that atrocious rug you brought into our house.”

“What are you talking about? It’s beautiful! And I got a great discount.”

Arthur snorted. “It’s tacky. That cats hate it and so do I.”

“The cats hate everything. They’re cats. It’s what they do.”

“That’s not true. They’d love a Persian rug.”

Alfred groaned. “Okay, I give up. You win this one.”

“Excellent.” Arthur climbed to his feet. He took Alfred’s hand and then folded it into the crook of his elbow. Arthur glanced back thoughtfully at the monolith and waterfall as they walked along the path out of the forest. “Sometimes I wonder if another spell is what mages really need. Of all the things I learned, what mattered most was looking deep within myself, questioning what I had been taught, and opening myself up to the possibilities.”

Alfred looked over at him with a soft, fond gaze. “Whatever you make, I know it’s going to be amazing. I just hope it’s not for a long, long time.”

“Me, too,” Arthur agreed. They climbed back up the path and headed home together.