#not happy with this but. again. drew it in a single day. ya know. to see. what i can accomplish. in a day. and to. let go.

[lusalemaart]

[topguncortez]

What to Expect | Chapter 14

previous part | masterlist | next part

synopsis: Jake enjoys a day golfing with the guys, while you receive some shocking news.

word count: 4.1k

warnings: smut, pregnancy, cursing, questions of paternity unrequited love, fighting, mentions of blood work, mentions of abuse

“Fuck, that’s it,” Jake moaned as the grip on your hips tightened. You placed your hands on his chest to help you keep your balance as you rode him, “Oh fuck, ‘m not gonna last.” 

Ever since that disastrous dinner at your parents house, you and Jake became insatiable. That night was the first night in nearly nine months that Jake had touched you like that, kissed you like that, loved you like that. He was a little scared at first, he didn’t want to hurt the baby or anything, but Doctor Miller assured you both that it was okay to have sex while this close to your due date. In fact, it might even help you deliver on time. 

“Jake,” You cried out, feeling his cock start to twitch inside you, “Help, please.” 

“I got you baby,” Jake answered, taking one of his hands and going in between yours and his bodies, circling your clit. You yelped at the feeling, arching your back in pleasure, “There ya go baby, I got you. Cum for me.” You nodded, not being able to think of anything as you felt your body start to shudder and spasm. Jake grunted, lifting his hips to bury himself deep within you and release his seed, “Fuck.” 

“Oh god,” You moaned, sagging forward just a bit, pressing your weight onto your hands as you caught your breath. 

“You okay?” Jake asked, running his hands up and down your back. 

“Yeah, just give me a second,” You said breathlessly, “It’s not easy riding dick at almost nine months along,” Jake chuckled and brushed a strand of hair from your face. 

“Well there aren’t many positions that we can do with you this far along,” Jake said, “And my dick is slipping out.” 

You chuckled as you gently rolled, with the help of Jake, onto your back, “We shall see if there will be any more sexcapades after this week.” 

You were nearing the home stretch, and you couldn’t be more happy and sad at the same time. The two of you had spent every moment that Jake was home spent working on the nursery and setting up the guest bedroom for Jake to use. Which, he had hardly been in, finding himself falling asleep in your bed most nights. He knew that this current sleeping arrangement wouldn’t last long, once the baby was here you weren’t going to want a single thing to do with him. 

“We have another appointment next week, right? The last one?” Jake asked and you nodded. 

“The grand finale,” You said and Jake chuckled. He rolled onto his side and lightly drew circles over your bump, “You know, Doctor Miller can still do the DNA test and we can-” 

Jake shook his head, “I’m not letting her stick a needle into your belly.” 

“Actually, she can do it by just taking my blood.” 

“Why are you bringing this up again? Did George say something to you? Did he threaten you?” Jake pushed himself up from the bed.

“No!” You exclaimed and pushed yourself up into a sitting position, “No one said anything but Jake, if getting the test done means that this baby gets a fair shot-” 

“Why are you worried about the trust? You said you never wanted a drop of that money,” Jake looked at you confused. 

“Things change. Jake, you almost died on your last two missions that I know about. And who knows how many other times,” You said and Jake’s eyes softened. He sat back down on the bed next to you and cupped your cheek. 

“If something happens to me, you and her will be taken care of, without the Seresin trust,” Jake answered, “I have things in place already to make sure that you will never have to worry if I’m gone. So please, for the love of God, can we just drop this?” 

You nodded and Jake smiled. He leaned in and kissed your forehead. On top of your due date being soon, Jake’s birthday was also approaching. He was going to be turning the big three-oh, and you wanted to do something to celebrate. Jake argued that he was fine getting drinks at the Hard Deck with you and the daggers, but you were not about to let that slide. Turning thirty and becoming a father in the same year was a big deal, and you were going to make it one. 

“Hey, what are you thinking?” Jake asked, running his hand over your bump. 

“Your birthday.” 

“No.” 

“You are turning thirty! We are celebrating!” 

“Yeah, and we might have a baby by then,” Jake said, placing a kiss on your belly and you giggled at the feeling, “Seriously, nothing big.” 

“Can I get you a cake?” 

“I’ll allow a cake. Only! If it’s cinnamon shortcake,” Jake kissed your cheek before getting out of bed. It was Saturday and the only thing he had on the agenda was going golfing with Dylan, Rooster, Bob, Maverick and Iceman. Sarah and Phoenix were coming over to help you work on thank-yous from the shower and finish decorating the nursery.  

You pushed yourself up from bed, feeling babygirl move around in your belly. You found your sleep shorts that had been taken off by Jake and slipped them back up your legs, before sliding on one of his old academy t-shirts. It seemed like most days you were wearing shorts and one of Jake’s t-shirts. You swore to yourself that next time you had a baby you were getting pregnant during the summer. Being heavily pregnant in the heat of the summer in California was something you did not want to endure again. 

That was another thing you had thought of recently, was what would happen next with your family. You had never just wanted to have one child, you didn’t want them to grow up as an only child. You loved your siblings, and you loved how big your family is. Even though you don’t always get along with them, you couldn’t imagine a life without them. You wanted your child to have the same thing, but how was the question. Would you find someone else to marry and have children with? Would they accept this baby as their own? Or maybe, would you have another one with Jake? Or did Jake even want more than one? They were all questions that kept you up at night. 

“You must really be in thought today,” Jake said, walking back into your room dressed in khaki shorts and a pink polo. Pink was really his color, it made his eyes stand out even more. You wondered if your baby would have his green eyes or the same blue eyes that ran in your family, “Hello? Earth to Y/N?” 

“Sorry,” You said, shaking your head and looking at him, “Got a lot on my mind.” 

“Well, can I help you think some of it through?” 

You bit your lip, running everything through your mind again and then said: “No. It’s nothing you can help with,” You gave him a small smile. He nodded and kissed your forehead. 

“Well, don’t think too much while I’m gone,” He said. 

“I’ll try not to. And don’t get mad at Bob, you know he can’t golf,” You said and Jake chuckled. 

“Thank god he can fly better than he can hit a golf ball.” 

You walked Jake to the front door, and stood on the porch as he pulled out of the driveway and left to go get Rooster. You sighed and headed back inside, going to make yourself some tea before your mother and Phoenix came over. You couldn’t wait for the day that you could start drinking coffee again. Every morning Jake brewed himself a fresh pot, almost as if he were mocking you in some way. The smell was intoxicating and all you could do was sit at the breakfast table and watch it drip and fill the pot. 

While you waited for the kettle to come to a boil, you looked through the stack of mail that was on the table. Most of it was bills for the house and from the doctor. You and Jake had agreed to split the cost of the prenatal care 50/50, since you weren’t technically on his insurance plan. You tossed most of the mail to the side, besides bills it was mundane things you didn’t really care about. Except for one white envelope with your name on it. 

‘Y/N KAZANSKY

PATERNITY DNA RESULTS’ 

Your heart started beating rapidly in your chest as you looked at the envelope. The sound of the kettle ringing brought you out of your trance, and you stuffed the letter into the pocket of your cardigan, and went to tend to the kettle. 

Despite Jake telling you to not get the test done, you had it done anyway. You really had no plans on telling him, but slowly the guilt of going against what he wanted was starting to eat at you. At first, you had the test done to prove George Seresin wrong, and to have it on file in case Jake were to change his mind. You weren’t going to have Doctor Miller send you the results, but then you changed your mind. But now, as they were here in your house, in your hands, you suddenly regret getting the test done at all. Jake trusted you, and you knew that he would love this baby no matter what that piece of paper said. You knew that you should just throw the envelope away, tear it up and shred it. But a voice in the back of your head stopped you from doing that. So instead you tucked the envelope away in your sock drawer. 

— — — 

Jake used to hate the game of golf. His father loves it and would spend hours at the golf course or driving range. Hell, he spent hundreds, maybe even thousands a year on tee fees, golf lessons, buying expensive clubs and playing at some of the top golf courses in Texas. Occasionally, George would bring Jake along, only when it would benefit him. Before Jake got into the academy, George took Jake on a golf outing with the dean of students, the athletic director and the head coach of the UT football team to try and win them over. Jake thought it was the dumbest thing ever and did everything in his power to make himself look like a fool. George was furious that night and took it out on Jake. The next day at school Jake told everyone that he fell from his horse and that’s what caused the black eye and split lip. 

But now, as Jake was older and actually had people that he enjoyed being with, he found solace in the game of golf. Even though three out of the six of them could never hit the ball entirely straight. He was still in good company which made it all the more fun. Currently, he was standing behind the tee box watching Bob calculate his shot and line up his driver with the ball. Bob had never golfed before he started golfing with them, and it was obvious. Jake thought Rooster had a bad swing since he still had that baseball swing in him, but seven out of nine holes someone was yelling “fore!” when Bob was up to tee. 

“What are the girls doing today?” Rooster whispered to Jake. 

“Finishing the nursery,” Jake answered, “Y/N said I don’t have the feminine touch so I am not needed. Phoenix and Mrs. Kazansky are over.” 

Rooster chuckled to himself, “She settled on a theme?” 

Jake nodded, “Farm theme. Don’t ask me why, but there’s a giant picture of a baby cow hanging over her crib.” 

You had found said picture at Home Goods and nearly bursted out in tears at the sight. Jake, of course, had to buy it and it was the first thing ever put up in the nursery. You loved the picture and felt like it made the yellow painted room feel like home. Jake thought the picture was kind of scary with its big brown eyes staring at you. But if you loved it, then he would love it too. The nursery furniture was all a distressed light brown color, which went perfectly with the farm theme that you wanted to go with. Jake and the daggers managed to put together all the heavy stuff, now what was left was the easy decorating. 

“Has she decided on where she’s going to have the baby?” Iceman asked as Maverick took a step up on the tee box. Bob’s ball had taken a sharp left and ended up in another fareway that Dylan would have to take him searching for. 

You had told Jake from the beginning that you wanted a home birth and he respected that decision. He helped you search for good doulas and midwives in the area and settled on one together. However the two of you were yet to decide on a location. Jake wanted to go traditional and do it actually at home, but you wanted to go to your parents cabin about an hour away. 

“No,” Jake answered, “She still wants to go to the cabin but I’m not sure if she’ll make it that far. Every day she thinks the baby is coming. I’d much rather do it just right at home in the living room.” 

“Dammit!” Maverick cursed as his ball hit a tree and bounced off somewhere in the rough. 

“She’s a saint for wanting to do it unmedicated,” Rooster shook his head and stepped closer to the tee box, “I had stitches once without getting numbed and I thought I was going to pass out.” 

“It’s what she wants, and she’s determined,” Jake shrugged. He wasn’t  a fan of the home birth option at first, his anxiety gave him too much worry. What if something happened to you? What if something happened to the baby? But you assured him that everything was going to be okay. If something was wrong with either you or the baby they would send you to the hospital right away. Doctor Miller had signed off on the home birth and would be on call if anything was to take a turn. 

The rest of the afternoon went off without a hitch, well, as without a hitch as much as it possibly could. Bob nearly broke his glasses and managed to lose a whole sleeve of golf balls in the first nine holes. They all decided to call it a day early and get drinks and sit outside by the pool. The pool was busy for it being a hot day, the loud screams and laughter of children filling the air. 

“Are you going to get a country club membership now, Bagman?” Dylan asked. 

“Why? Because I’m about to be a dad?” Jake asked, taking a sip of his long island iced tea. 

“That’s exactly why,” Dylan laughed, “You and Y/N give off country club people vibes.” 

Jake chuckled and looked at the various families and children that were in the pool. He could see himself getting a country club membership. Playing golf league on tuesday nights, bringing you and your daughter to the pool on the weekends, dressing up for certain fundraising events. But while he was thinking of all of that, he also thought of his parents and how they do the exact same thing. Jake grew up going to the golf course pool on the weekends with his nanny and mother. George and Margaret were always getting dressed up to go to some fundraiser for the club, and Jake even had to be in quintillion because Margaret was one of the sponsors. He hated every single thing about growing up as a “country club kid”. 

“Well see,” Jake answered, his jaw clenching. Rooster looked at him questionably, but just shrugged and went back to talking baseball statistics with Ice and Bob. 

The sun was starting to set by the time the six of them decided to leave. They were all feeling warm not just from the alcohol but from the time spent out in the sun. Bob was sure to have a sunburn on his arms tonight, and Rooster knew he was going to have a gnarly sock tan line that might go away by next fourth of July. They all said their goodbyes, and Rooster climbed into Jake’s truck since they had driven together. His brown eyes glanced at the carseat in the back seat of the truck. He tried to ignore the pang in his heart every single time he saw it, but he couldn’t help it. 

“Think this is probably the last time I’ll see this truck this clean,” Rooster said as Jake climbed into the driver's seat. Everyone knew how anal Jake was about the condition of his truck. He treated it as if it was his baby, and cleaned it once a week, sometimes even twice if he had driven it a longer distance than just to base and back. 

“Oh, it’ll stay this way,” Jake answered back, pressing the start button, “We’ve already talked about it.” 

“You know that kids are just mess magnets,” Rooster chuckled as Jake started on the drive back to his place, “Your truck, your house, everything is about to come one giant mess.” 

“Don’t even remind me,” Jake shook his head, “My sisters houses look like permanent hurricanes. I hope with one that things won’t be as messy. Well, one for now.” 

Rooster was silent for the rest of the ride home, Jake’s comment settling in his head. He knew that he shouldn’t be thinking about you like that, he had Noel and she was good to him. But in the back of his mind he thought that maybe just maybe there was still a chance for him and you. That maybe, just maybe, you hadn’t completely closed the door on the idea. Rooster looked up from his lap as Jake parked in the driveway, his eyes seeing the white Nissan parked behind his bronco. 

“The girlfriend is here,” Jake smirked and Rooster gave him the best fake smile he could muster. 

“Yeah, she said she’d stop by later,” Rooster unbuckled his seatbelt, “Tell Y/N I missed her today. Would rather have her as a partner than you sometimes.” 

“If you think I’m bad, wait until you play next to her,” Jake shook his head with a laugh, “She thinks she’s the next Tiger Woods, I swear.” 

Rooster smiled, knowing exactly what Jake was talking about, “I’ll see you, man.” Rooster stepped inside his house, and leaned his back against the door. He noticed Noel’s shoes by the door and knew she was probably waiting for him in his bedroom. He reached into the pocket of his khaki shorts and pulled his phone out, seeing one single text from you. 

‘Bug Kazansky: I got them back.’ 

He took a deep breath and locked his phone, sliding it back into his pocket before going upstairs to his girlfriend. Tonight, he was focused on Noel, not you. As much as it hurt his heart to think about, he couldn’t spend every moment waiting for you anymore. He had guilt from what had happened between the two of you, but if you had so easily moved on and forgotten about, so could he. 

Jake parked his truck next to your car in the garage. At the old house in Lemoore, you two only had a one car garage and it was first come first serve on who got the spot. But now, there was no fighting when it came to it, and it made him feel domestic. He had basically moved in with you these past few weeks. The only time he’d really stop by his house was to get fresh clothing and to get the packages of dog food for Herc. He considered asking you if he could fully move in, but he wasn’t sure if you were ready for all of that quiet yet. He didn’t even know where you two stood as far as relationships go. Of course he wanted more with you, but he was willing to do whatever it was that you wanted. 

He could see the house was dimly lit when he arrived home. The sun was almost down, lighting the earth with a pink and purple hue. Jake stood in the driveway for a moment, soaking up the last rays of the sun before heading inside. He could hear the faint sound of Greta Van Fleet playing from upstairs and knew that you were either in the nursery or in the bath. You had been ending your days by taking a warm bubble bath partially to relieve the pain in your lower back and to help you fall asleep easier. Your insomnia has come back these last couple weeks as you got closer to your due date. 

Jake checked the nursery, not finding you but hearing the music playing a bit louder. He walked into your room, smelling the scent of your essential oils and seeing Herc laying in the doorway to the bathroom. The german shepherd had become not only your protector again, but also the protector of your unborn child. Jake would come home from work to see you napping on the couch or even sometimes asleep in bed, and Herc’s face was nuzzled into your belly. 

“Momma in there, boy?” Jake asked his dog, kneeling down to scratch under his jaw. From the reflection in the mirror, Jake could see your legs resting over the side of the bathtub. He stood up from his position and walked into the bathroom, seeing you resting your head back against the side of the tub and a wash cloth over your eyes. 

“Y/N?” He called out. 

“Hm?” You answered, removing the wash cloth and looking up at him, “You’re home.” 

“I am,” Jake answered and walked over to you. He bent down to place a kiss on your forehead, “How was your day?” 

“Tiring,” You sighed and ran your hands over your bump, “Nursery is one hundred percent complete and so are the thank you cards. We started washing all the bottles, clothes and other stuff we got, which is going to take forever.” 

“Well we got time,” Jake said leaning against the counter, “You about ready to get out?” 

“Yes,” You nodded, “Can you do me a favor?” 

“Sure.” 

“Can you get me some pajamas please?” You asked, sticking your bottom lip out, “Oh! And fuzzy socks!” 

Jake chuckled, “Of course. Be right back.” 

You nodded, and moved your hands back and forth in the warm water, “How was golf?” 

“Same as it usually is!” Jake yelled as he opened your dresser drawers, and found a pair of sleep shorts that you should hopefully be comfortable in. 

“Bob go through another sleeve of golf balls?” 

“I don’t know how he does it!” Jake said back and you giggled. A smile was brought to his face at the sound of your laughter as he found one of his old t-shirts in your drawer. 

“It must have something to do with his glasses,” You said and pushed yourself out of the tub. You grabbed your towel and dried your body off, wrapping it around you the best that you could, and then walked to your bedroom, “Maybe he just can’t see where. . .you weren’t supposed to find that.” 

Jake’s green eyes were staring down at the white envelope you had stashed away from earlier. The clothing that he had in his hands had clearly been dropped to the floor, and you could see them start to shake a bit. He looked from the letter to you, his eyes rimmed red. 

“I can explain,” You said, and took a step towards him, but he visibly took one away from you. 

“I told you I didn’t want this done!” He exclaimed, gripping the letter in his hand, “This is exactly what he wants! And you fell for his trap!” 

“It’s not just for your father,” You sighed and ran a hand over your forehead, “It’s for me.” Jake looked at you confused for a moment and then at the letter. 

“You couldn’t have done this without my DNA,” He said softly, “So unless you swabbed my mouth in my sleep or stole my kleenex, you couldn’t have-” 

“Because I didn’t use your DNA, Jake,” You said and took a deep breath, “I used. . . I asked Bradley to do the test.”

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note: and thank you to everyone who has supported me not only today with the "Karen" anons but through this whole fic and the other works on my blog. my writing is supposed to be something that is enjoyable for not only you all to read, but myself included. I write the fics that I want to be able to go back and read. I write the fics that I will be happy with, and if that's not your cup of tea. . . then so be it. You don't have to like every single thing I put out, it's okay to not like something of mine. But there is no need to be rude about it. And this isn't just coming from me, this is coming from other writers as well. Be kind to us, we don't do this for pay, we don't do this for profit. We do it because we want to. anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter:) and I am sorry for getting angry and spoiling the fic earlier, I hope y'all forgive me or forgot that I even did that.

[kelbreys-baseball-bat]

Kelbrey Week - Day 6 - Valentine's Day

"Happy Valentine's Day guys!!!" Kel says cheerfully as he starts pulling out small boxes of chocolate and hands it to his friends. Each of them tied with a ribbon, with a color that he associated with them. "I got one for each of you, and for your favorite kinds of chocolate too!!" Kel said, as he hands one to Basil. "Awww, Kel, you shouldn't have!" Basil smiles, as Sunny takes his box from Kel. Kel grinned proudly, but then glanced over at Aubrey. "Oh, and Aubrey! As for youu-" Aubrey had been only half paying attention to what was happening, trying not to think too hard about today and what Kel was doing. She looked over at him and sighed. "Kel, you know I'm not supposed t-" "I know!" Kel responded, still with a smile, as he rummaged through his bag again, "I know you're not supposed to have too many sweets! Sooo!" He pulled out a single Valentine's themed chocolate bar, with a small pink heart stickered on it. "I got you a smaller chocolate bar! I saw this at Othermart and thought it'd be perfect! It's dark chocolate, too! Your favorite!" Kel exclaimed, grinning widely at Aubrey as he hands it to her.

Aubrey was completely in shock at this. Her face was flushed pink, and she struggled to find words to say; even as she tried to think of a witty comment, she drew a blank. She then simply huffed and took the chocolate bar. "...Thanks, Kel." Kel put his hands in his pockets and smiled proudly, "No problem!" Aubrey stared at the bar for a moment. "...You do know I don't have anything to give right now, right?" Kel shrugged, "Didn't expect ya to! None of you have to give me anything, I just wanted to give you all a little treat on this special day!" He chuckled lightly. "Thank you, Kel. That's so sweet of you!" Hero said gratefully. Aubrey stared at the candy bar once again, thinking deeply. "Yeah... Sure is."

@kelbreyweek Okay soooo I might've gone a LITTLE overboard with this one– I had an entire scene in my head!!! I had to write it down!! And then I had this fun idea with the drawing where I separate it the way I did! With the silly borders and everything!!! Makes sense, since this is gonna be my last installment, I have no more ideas and my inspiration juice has run dry :[ But it was SO FUN while it lasted :D

After this moment, Aubrey opens the chocolate bar and finds that it's engraved with the words "I LOVE YOU" into the chocolate itself. Aubrey is flustered as all hell, but of course Kel was not aware of this (he quite literally just saw it on the shelf, read that it was dark chocolate, and nabbed it-)

ALSO!!! BONUS SCENE AGAIN!! Along with extras <3

After a little bit, Aubrey stops by Othermart to find something to give Kel, cuz she feels he deserves to get something back regardless what he said! Then she saw this little brown and orange teddy bear and just immediately thought, "...That's Kel." and got it <3333

here's the full image btw, and variations!

[writingwarden]

Home

Masky x Reader

Summary- He had been out all weekend and just wanted to get back to you

A/n- This story was cross posted on Wattpad and Ao3

Word Count- 763

Tim had been out on the job all weekend.  A group of campers had wandered a bit too far into the forest for the Operators liking. So the boys had been sent out to take care of it. The campers had put up a good fight, he will admit. But business is business. So when they had finished reporting to the Operator, his only thoughts were to get to his cabin and get a good sleep. And to you, good lord he was so happy to have you.

     You and Tim had met each other around the time Marble Hornets was beginning. It was actually Alex Kralie who introduced you two. Ya know, before he went off his rails.  It wasn't love a first sight or any of that. No it was how you had seemed to just, melt into his life. Like a glass finally being filled with your favorite beverage. You two went through everything together, survived together despite the forces after you. And he wouldn't trade it for the world.

    It was around 11:00pm when he made it back to your house. Thinking you would be asleep he entered quietly as to not to wake you. He'd rather go toe to toe with the rake before he woke you up again. If you think he was scary then wait till someone disturbs your sleep. It even scared Brian. So imagine his surprise and horror when he discovered you in the kitchen drinking tea.

    "Well this is a surprise" he laughed nervously. You only stared at him. Several moments passed before you spoke. "How was work, dear?" He almost sighed with relief when he realized you weren't angry. "Same ol same ol. Just some campers getting a bit close. Even put up a fight, the little fuckers." he answered walking over to the fridge to grab a drink. "I can see that," you said, taking in the fact he was covered in dirt and limping.

    Getting up and wrapping your arms around him. "Well why don't you finish that and we'll go get you cleaned up." you said in a playful tone, quickly kissing him and going to put your cup up. As you wait for him to finish his drink you run upstairs to find him some comfortable clothes. You were more than willing to help him after a long day. After all, he always returned to you.

    As you're turning on the shower you hear Tim call from the bedroom, "(Y/n), darling have you seen the remote?"

"Yeah, it's on my side of the bed, but you can worry about that later. Get in here and take a shower before I drag you in here myself!" You hear quick footsteps and a moment later he's at the door. Taking the rest of your clothes, you turn around and help him get undressed.

   Turning on soft music you pull him into the shower, letting the warm water fall onto your shoulders. You pour soap into your hand, and move to wash his hair as he runs his hands up and down your figure slowly. They were rough from years of hard work, yet so soft. And they fit so perfectly with yours. While rinsing his hair out you can't help but find yourself staring at him. This man was yours, and you were his. And you wouldn't change it for the world. If he were to die, you'd kill the Operator and everyone involved.

    "Do I ever tell you how much I love you?" he spoke as he drew circles on your back. "Only every single minute of every day, love." you mused. "Oh really, gonna have to make that every second now ain't I."

 "Hush you, now, finish washing off and let's get ready for bed."

 "Yes darlin'," he said, giving you that smile that never failed to give you butterflies.

     Slipping out of the shower you wrap a towel around you and walk to the bedroom. Walking to your shared dresser, you decide you were going to wear one of his shirts. Just as you finish putting it on you feel arms wrap around you. He was humming along with the song as he spun you around, swaying.

    "I wish we could stay like this forever." you said as you lean into him. He only hummed in agreement. You stayed there, swaying with the occasional kiss, till the song ended. As you both climbed into bed, he wrapped his arms around you. Forcing you to move closer to him.

                                                "I love you (y/n)."

"I love you too dear."

[nimbasa-librarian]

Even Librarians Need Sick Days

It had been a very normal day on the singles line, when Ingo got a call on his Xtrans.

Confused as to who would call him during work - even if he was leaving in about an hour - he lifted his wrist into view. 

…Anya?

Brow furrowed, he wondered if it was, perhaps, a mistake? Anya was not one to make frivolous calls, from his experience. 

Ah well. Better safe than sorry. The car was currently empty. 

He accepted the call, and stated “Hello, Anya. Why are you calling me at this hour? Is something wrong?” 

“Yama!” 

Ingo stared at the communicator 

“Ya- yama - ma!” 

Was that… Drew? Daniel? How did they even know how to use her xtrans?

“.... Anya?” 

“Yamaaa!” 

There was a sneeze in the background. 

“... was that Anya?” 

“Yama!” 

“... Noted. Thank you” 

And he hung up. 

He looked over to the inter-train phone, and quickly picked it up, calling Emmet’s multi-line car. 

“I am Emmet!” “Hello Emmet. After work today, I must recommend that we change tracks to pay Anya a visit” 

“What for?” 

“I got a call from her Yamasks” 

There was no response for a few moments. 

“... They know how to use an Xtrans?” 

“Enough to call us. I believe that Anya might have fallen ill” 

“Seriously?” 

“I am unsure” 

“Ah… shall we also add a brief refill stop at the pharmacy?” 

“That could be wise, Emmet” 

“Excellent- Ah! I am getting a challenger! See you after 5” 

“See you after five” 

And Ingo hung up the phone. 

Taking up his station yet again, Ingo contemplated the odd call. 

Had Anya ever gotten sick in the time he’d known her? 

Admittedly they’d only been acquainted for a year at most, but that was a good length of time. 

…He couldn’t recall anything. 

The doors to the singles line opened, and he focused his attention yet again on his work.

It was going to have to wait.

-

There was a chill coming from under the door - it was practically visible

“... That is not good?” Emmet questioned 

“I do not think so,” Ingo added, his one hand holding a cloth bag with various remedies they’d grabbed from the nearby poke-mart pharmacy. He reached up and knocked on the door

There was the distinct sound of Anya’s Yamasks yammering about, followed by another pokemon-related sound. 

“Froh!!” 

Frankie?? Why was she out of her pokeball? 

The brothers shared a concerned look. 

The door was opened by the ice Pokemon, who seemed to brighten up at the appearance of the twins, opening the door completely with a “Lah!” 

The apartment was freezing cold, so much so that Ingo was wondering if the freezer was also open on top of the overworked AC unit

“.... Sweet Kyurem” Emmet muttered as he started to look around the apartment. 

“Ah-CHOO!” 

“The couch,” Ingo pointed. 

“Wuh…?” 

Frankie was grabbing at Ingo’s coat (which he was happy that he had not taken off) to pull him inside while Daniel floated up to Emmet, wrapping around the man’s arm to drag him inside as well. Emmet barely managed to close the door behind him. 

Drew was hovering over by the couch, where a pile of blankets was shifting, and a familiar face popped up - cheeks and nose red - and glasses comically askew. 

“Huh…?” 

“Hello, Anya” Ingo greeted “I received a call from one of your Yamasks” He talked as he took in the state of her apartment

Anya took a second to rub her face as Emmet passed Ingo to take the bag and place it on the counter, seeing the fridge and freezer were in fact open. The kitchen didn’t look too out of sorts, at the very least - with only a drawer pulled all the way open. He shut the doors of the refrigerator. 

“Froh!” Frankie seemed to want to scold him as Anya was further collected herself. Emmet just rose a brow at the Pokemon

“Ugh… What..?” Anya straightened her glasses, the tiredness and redness in her eyes now much more visible. Her skin was pale and her cheeks flushed. “ I didn-” She sniffed “Didn’ call” 

“As I said, one or both of your Yamasks called my Xtrans while I was working. I believe they are concerned for you” Ingo explained further, approaching the librarian’s couch. 

She took a second to understand what Ingo was saying before having the decency to look thoroughly embarrassed despite being ill “You absolute buffoons!” She managed “An- an wha’s Frankie doin’?! I’s freezin!” 

Did She just wake up? How long had she been out of it that she just noticed the temperature. She must have one hell of a fever

“It seems that your sickness made your Pokemon quite concerned for you. Though I am wondering where Irene is-” 

[THUD]

Emmet seemed startled at the sound, following it without saying a word, though Ingo spoke 

“.. I am assuming that is her” 

Anya let out a miserable, exasperated groan.

-

It took many minutes for Ingo and Emmet to right the wrongs done in the apartment. 

Turning off the AC, a slight tidying up of the kitchen, and a quick cleaning on the bathroom (What had fallen was a bottle of shampoo - Emmet surmised that the Pokemon had been looking for medicine) 

Anya, for her part, had convinced Frankie and Irene back into their pokeballs, and was being - essentially - bullied into staying on the couch while her friends returned her apartment to a reasonable state. 

Emmet had some soup on the stove. Ingo was sorting through the various medications they’d purchased. 

“Let’s see…. Fever… headache… “ “ACHOOO!!” 

“.... congestion…” 

Anya let out a groan 

“Are you allergic to any medications?” 

“Uh… pen’cillin?” 

“Well, it’s a good thing you don’t seem to have a bacterial infection then.” 

Anya just miserable grumbled yet again 

Ingo approached her, sitting on her coffee table in front of her, holding up a cup of water, with his other hand offering her medications. 

She stared blankly at him, and rubbed at her face again. Drew let out a concerned yawp. 

“Take something, Anya. Your fever seems pretty high” 

“.... ‘right” 

Ingo gave her a curious expression. 

She didn’t respond to it, taking the medication from him “... thank ye kindly…” 

“It is no trouble, my friend. You needed help, and while the call for it was… unconventional, I am happy that we were contacted” Ingo nodded

“.... Thank ye… y’didn’ have’t’” 

Ingo tilted his head “Did you have someone else coming over to assist you?” 

“... No..” she sniffed “Don’ know no-body”  

Ah… Right. 

Other than friends, Anya was alone. 

It didn’t seem to bother her - she was clearly quite happy in Nimbasa, if Ingo could make the assumption. 

But.. perhaps that also meant that she didn’t know who she could call when something bad happened. 

Emmet approached the two of them with a shallow bowl in hand. 

“Well, that will not do!” 

“Buh?” Anya attempted to question his sentence, before sneezing

“Where is your Xtrans?” 

Anya gave him a confused look, but pointed over to a side table. 

The younger twin grabbed the machine, as Ingo assisted the woman in sitting up fully. 

She was wearing Noctowl pajamas. 

Ingo wasn’t one to comment - he had frightrail PJs and a Chandelure onesie. 

“Do you think you can keep down the food?” He asked. 

“.. Yes… I think so” She answered, her yamasks framing her - Drew nudging her head, Daniel leaning against her shoulder. 

While Ingo offered her the food, Emmet was fiddling with Anya’s Xtranceiver 

“Done! My comm number is in!” 

Anya looked up from the soup with a bit of confusion. 

“Now if you cannot reach Ingo, you can reach me!” 

Anya’s head tilt showed him she wasn’t connecting the dots. 

“In case you need help, Anya” 

“... Oh”

She seemed… contemplative? 

Ingo held up a hand in question. 

She nodded, and Ingo placed a hand over the blanket, pulling it back up her shoulder. 

“Please, let us know if you need any assistance while you recover.” 

“Yama!” 

Daniel bounced in the air at the offer

Drew seemed to give an approving nod. 

Anya was right, they really were just worrying parents in personality. 

Anya huffed. 

“... Ah will” She sniffled. 

Ingo gave her a firm nod “I hope that you improve soon” 

“... thank ye kindly… I’ll repay ya soon” 

“Think absolutely nothing of it!” Emmet stated 

“That's what friends are for” Ingo added with a nod

“... aye… tha’s true”

Ingo and Anya shared an awkward smile, before the brother’s cleaned up, and left the apartment in much better shape than when they arrived. 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Laisse tomber les filles 9

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; size kink; age gap; manipulation; sexual acts and dubcon, handjob

This is a dark!fic and Lee Bodecker x (short) reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: You find yourself ostracized on campus by your shyness, but your reticence won’t deter an unwanted suitor.

Note: You guys think Lee can’t get any worse. He can always get worse.

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

You were frazzled and distant as you sat beside Lee. You only returned to the present when your hand dropped and was covered by one larger and warmer. Your palm pressed against something firm and you glanced over startled. 

Lee pressed his lips to your crown and kept your head down as he moved your hand over his crotch. You tried to pull away and he caught your wrist. He hummed and tutted into your scalp.

“It’s alright, honey pie,” he purred, “don’t you remember how I made you feel, hm? Don’t you wanna do the same for me?”

“I don’t… I don’t know,” your murmured as his hand slipped over yours again and he made your grip the thick outline bulging through his pants, “please…”

“Shhh, honey, you just gotta do what I say,” he cooed, “ain’t nothing wrong, huh? We’re together now, you got your pretty ring.”

I didn’t ask for the ring, you thought, but he gave generously and all you could do was keep doubting him. How ungrateful you must seem. 

Your hand shook but you let the tension drain from your arm. His other arm snaked around your shoulders squeezed you closer and he tickled the back of your hand as he withdrew his own and twiddled his fingers against his thigh.

“Go on, you can undo me,” he coaxed, “take it slow, honey pie, ain’t no rush.” 

You hesitated and your hand trembled. You felt detached from your own body as you focused on his words. If you did what he said he’d be happy and you might even like it too. It was always weird the first time, right?

You struggled to unhook his belt and he helped with his free hand. Once you unbuckled the leather you pinched the button of his fly until it came loose and hesitated on the tag of his zipper.

“Oh, honey, you’re almost there,” he breathed into your hair, “mmm, you got me so hard for you already.”

You gulped and pushed down his zipper with a single finger. You stared at the shape of him through his briefs and your hand hovered above tenuously. He pulled his fly wide and lifted his pelvis just slightly. He hooked a thumb in the elastic of his underwear and tugged them down his hips.

“Grab onto me, girl,” he demanded as he sat down heavily and pushed the elastic down below his dick. Your eyes rounded at the sight of him throbbing and twitching, “don’t keep me waitin’ here.”

You lowered your hand and wrapped your fingers around him lightly. He shuddered and his arm slipped down and he gripped your side. His other hand balled around the corner of his pants.

“Tighter,” he demanded and you obeyed, “move your hand, honey, just up and down.”

You pushed your dry tongue to the roof of your mouth and stared at your hand. The scene was surreal to you, so odd and new. The mystery of intimacy unravelling in an act so lewd. You stroked him and the curve of your thumb caught his tip as your slid back down and he hissed.

“Oh, yes, honey, keep goin’,” he pushed his cheek against your head as his body tensed and he hugged you closer to him.

You kept your hand in motion, too afraid and dazed to stop. His groans filled your ears as his hot breath washed over you. He turned his head and pressed his lips to your hair.

“Faster,” he urged, “goddamn, honey, faster.”

You did as he said and his hand crept away from his thigh. He reached over blindly and you heard a subtle pop. He trembled as his pants grew frantic. He brought around his empty milkshake cup, the lid on an angle as it hung from the straw.

“Almost there,” he dug his nails into your side as his fingers poked through the loose crochet hoops of your sweater, “try to get it in the cup, honey, we don’t want a--”

He grunted as he quickly moved the rim below his tip and tilted the cup. He quaked as you kept on and watched him spill into the paper. Your mouth hung open at the sight as your arm moved out of habit. He swore and lifted his head and sighed.

“Enough, hon,” the cup shook in his hand, “you can… stop… ah.”

He shivered as you slowed and drew your hand away. He took a deep breath and rescinded his arm from around your back and fixed the lid on the cup. He flicked the straw with his finger and smirked then peeked over at you. 

You batted your lashes dumbly and he snickered and put the cup aside. He looked down at himself and cupped his sack as he covered his shaft with his hand. He nodded and closed his eyes as he steadied his breath.

“That was good, honey pie,” he rolled his shoulder then lifted his ass to fix his underwear, “you sure you never touched a man before? Sure feels like you have.”

“N-- no,” you rubbed your warm palm with your thumb and wiped it thoughtlessly on your dress, “I never…”

“How’s that milkshake?” he asked with a chuckle and tapped his own cup, “sweeter than mine I’m sure.”

“I…” you folded your hands and bent your arms against your chest, “can you take me home now?”

“Home?” he echoed, “why’s that?”

“I-- You know it’s all new to me,” you murmured.

“We ain’t gotta do nothing else, honey pie,” he placed his hand on your thigh, “I just like being with you… god, that was so good, you know that? You make me feel so nice.”

“Mmhmm,” you twined your fingers together and bent them, resting your chin on your knuckles.

“Why don’t we go for a ride?” he asked, “it will help you relax.”

“Sure,” you squeaked, “that’s alright.”

📚

The more you thought about it, the uneasier you felt and all you could do was think about it. The man next to you, his arm around your shoulder as he drove, wouldn’t let you forget him. You found yourself twisting the ring on your finger as your nerves ran wild. 

Your mind raced as the evening played back in your head and you swore you could still feel him in your hand. You resisted a shudder as he steered lazily and as you saw the welcome sign at the north end of campus, you let out a slow breath. You just wanted to go and hide and not think. 

You wanted those few hours when you didn’t have to fear this man’s presence. Were you supposed to feel this way about your “boyfriend”? That’s what he was, or what he thought he was.

He drove down Greek row, some lights still on in the whitewashed houses, and onto your street. He pulled up in front of your residence and kissed the top of your head. He shifted the car into park with his free hand and ran his knuckles along your chin as he made you face him. He pushed your chin up and kissed your lips.

“You tired, honey pie?” he asked as he rubbed his nose against yours, “I saw you yawning. I shouldn’t keep ya out so late, huh?”

“It was a long day,” you picked at your sweater as you stiffened against him.

“One more thing,” he leaned against you, nearly flattening you to the seat as he reached for the glove compartment. It fell open and he grasped around inside before he pulled you back up, “here.”

You stared down at the book and took it reluctantly. The lewd image of a naked woman pouted back at you and you tried not to squirm. You’d never seen anything so explicit on the front of a book. Yours were all hardcover and mostly blank. You shifted and bit your lip nervously.

“They’re stories, since you like readin’,” he shrugged as he kept his arm lightly on your shoulders, “they’ll help ya learn.”

“I can’t… I can’t read this,” you whispered.

“Don’t ya wanna know how to keep me happy? Ain’t nothing wrong with doing all that with your man,” he said, “you know, then it won’t be so scary.”

“I just… I don’t know,” you bent the book, “I wouldn’t… it’s just not for me.”

“Do it for me, honey,” he adjusted the strap of your dress, “the next time we see each other, I want you to take the lead.”

“What…” you breathed.

“So you needa study,” he purred, “you can make a man happy, you did tonight. You just need practice is all. It ain’t so hard, is it?”

You kept your head down and said nothing. You nodded and reached for your purse to hide the book.

“Don’t mean I won’t do nothing for you, honey pie,” his hand fell to your thigh, “I got lots in mind.”

“I’ll try to… find the time,” you gulped, “good night, sir.”

“Night, honey pie,” he caught you before you could sidle away and kissed you again, this time moaning into your mouth before he let go, “you get lots of sleep. You got your book club Friday?”

“Yes,” you eked out as you wiggled away.

“Then I’ll be round then,” he said as he squeezed your hand one last time, “now don’t get carried away with that book… no touching yourself, that’s a sin.”

“Mhmm,” you uttered and stumbled out of the car, closing the door a bit too hard behind you. 

You didn’t look back as you hurried up the steps but you knew he was watching you. You could feel his eyes on you in the dim and it was suffocating.

[sondepoch]

HC: They see MC’s sketchbook!

Art. It’s a private thing. Showing someone your work is akin to showing them a piece of your soul, an insight into who you are and everything that lies within. So when the Obey Me! boys get a glimpse of your sketchbook, they find themselves wanting for more—and all in different ways.

Word Count: 6.0k

*Mild NSFW themes for Asmo & Diavolo

Characters: All Brothers + All Undateables + Luke

MASTERLIST

Lucifer

At the beginning of the year, there is 0 trust between the two of you

Not only has he actively tried to kill you, but he’s already so suspicious of the pacts you’re making with his brothers that he can’t help but be wary every time you cross paths

So when he realizes that you’re always absentmindedly scribbling in a notepad every time you interact, he’s more than a little perturbed by it

100% thinks you’re secretly taking notes on his and his brothers’ behavior to use it against them

So, obviously, when he next sees you using it in his presence, he wastes no time in snatching the notebook from your hands

“Oh hey, Lucif—what are you doing?!”

“Nothing you should be concerned with, human.”

“That’s my sketchbook you’re holding!”

“Sketchbook?”

Instantly flips it open and sure enough, inside there’s nothing but doodles and sketches

luci.is.confuzzled.exe

He’s still convinced that there must be something incriminating in the book, so he continues flipping through it. But the more he sees, the more he realizes how wrong he is

It’s only when he flips to the section with his family that he begins to feel guilty

In the beginning, you just draw basic poses. Mammon, glancing at you over his shoulder. Asmo, posing for a camera. Beel, about to bite down on a hamburger. 

But the further he goes, the more elaborate the sketches get, and as he flips through the pages, he can feel the amount of work that has gone into each piece

And then he gets to the page where you drew him

Keep it lowkey, but he thinks his heart stopped for a second

He stares at the picture and wonders if that’s what you see every time he shifts into his demon form, because for the first time since his fall, he can’t help but think about how beautiful he looks. Everything looks so right in your art style, from the diamond on his forehead to the way his wings flutter out of his back.

It’s perfection

“I’m confiscating this,” He says quickly, not looking you in the eye.

He then escapes the room faster than you’ve ever seen, and never speaks of the incident again to you

But roughly a week later, you find a small red book on your pillow, and you know that it's a sketchbook from him, to replace the one he took

And even later—after the two of you grow close—you find your old sketchbook stored in his most secure drawer, locked away with a key he keeps hidden. And you know that he’s spent hours looking through the book on rough nights, through the doodles of him and his brothers and everything else you’ve ever drawn

And though he’s too proud to admit it, you know he loves your art 

Mammon

He found it when he was going through your stuff, absentmindedly checking to see if you had any valuables on you

And the moment he flipped open to see your little notebook of doodles, his mind went B I N G O 

He loves your art the second he sees it, spending a whole hour just sitting on your bedroom floor, flipping through the pages

Adores everything about your art style

And when he starts to see the little doodles you do of his brothers, he’s even more enraptured

You draw all the things he’s imagined but never seen: a sketch of Lucifer dressed in a onesie, snuggling a giant teddy bear. Beel, using a sleeping Belphie as a food tray for a pile of snacks as large as the sixth-born himself. Asmo with cat ears, being chased by Solomon, who appears to be a wolf.

And yet, there are no pictures of Mammon

Man is hurt by the fact that you’ve drawn all his brothers but not him. He’s your first man, after all. You should have been the first person he drew!

Gets a bit upset about it and throws your sketchbook back into the drawer he found it in, stomping back to his room with childlike indignation

Is just a bit petty about it afterward

“Hey, Mammon, can you walk me to school? Class starts in half an hour.”

“Huh? Oh, so now ya want me to do it, huh? Well, why don’t you ask Asmo instead?”

“Okay? I will???”

Soon everyone in the house has realized that Mammon’s being a bit off, and while it was nice at first to have peace and quiet from the resident troublemaker, you guys grow concerned pretty quick

And eventually, you go to his room to talk things out

Let’s just say that when you found out he’d been going through your stuff, you were not pleased. But seeing that he wasn’t going to be the mature one, you sucked it up and whacked the demon on the back of his head, telling him to “wait a second” while you went to “get something”

Cue the retrieval of your second sketchbook 

And when Mammon sees it, he’s not sure what he feels more of: guilt or happiness

Every single page in this second notebook is of him. Only a few are colored, but Mammon finds himself enraptured by even the casual doodles in the corners, where he’s doing little things like eating a banana or flashing the viewer a few Grimm

Man is touched. He’s never had anyone do this for him, and certainly not out of their own volition. So suffice it to say that when he tackled you for a hug that night, he didn’t let you go for a long time

And maybe some other stuff happened too. Who knows? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Leviathan

TSL

The second Levi sees you sketching in your artbook (after an incoherent stumble of words which you assume are synonymous with praise), the only phrase coming out of this man’s mouth is TSL

Begins begging you to draw fanart of the Shadow Lord, asking you to sketch him in different outfits, draw him in different poses, put him in various backgrounds, etc.

Basically wants you to bring his imagination to life

“Oh! Oh! Can you draw him baking a cake now? Wouldn’t that be so cool?!”

Absolutely does the wwooooooOOOOOAAAHAHHHHHHH sound effect every single time you show him your work, even if you’ve only made minor changes from the last time you showed him

He takes you on a spending spree, pulling up Akuzon and offering to pay for whatever supplies you want if you’ll just make him a super fancy poster

And so you start

It actually gets to be a pretty good way to grow closer: every day, after school, you head up to Levi’s room to work on the poster he asked you to make him. In exchange, he lets you borrow his manga and you guys watch anime together

Eventually, boi gets the idea of throwing Ruri-chan into the poster, and the second he thinks it he won’t shut up about it

“Oh, come on! You can do it—look, just put her in this little corner right here!”

“How many times do I have to tell you, Levi?! Ruri-chan and the Shadow Lord are two completely different characters who are meant to be drawn in completely different art styles! If I mush Ruri-chan into the corner, it’ll ruin the poster’s dynamic!”

“But pleeeeeaaaassseeeee?”

Cue extra pouty Levi

Eventually, you agree to make a separate drawing of Ruri-chan for Levi to hang up next to the poster, because you think that otherwise, he’ll go crazy

When the date rolls around where you’re almost done with everything, Levi formally sends out an invitation to everyone of importance

Man invites everyone from Luke to Diavolo over for the “revealing ceremony” where he plans to hang the poster on his wall

Actually tried to get the demon king to come as well, but Lucifer stopped him before he could get an invitation out

When everyone sees what you’ve been working on for so many weeks, they’re all MEGA impressed because hello??? they did not know you were this skilled???

It quickly turns into a competition, with each one of them trying to outdo each other with how vigorously they can compliment you

And soon enough you find yourself swamped with requests from every other demon in the room, begging you to make them something as elaborate as you did Levi

Satan

It’s a system you guys have set up, where every Tuesday and Thursday night, you’ll sit in the common room on the couch facing each other and will simply open your books to do what you will

You always draw, and Satan always reads

And neither will bother the other until the grandfather clock chimes twelve times, whereupon you both bid each other goodnight and wait for the next session where you do it all over

Except for today, that is

“What are you drawing?” 

Ah, there it is

The one question you were hoping Satan would never ask

You subtly (incredibly awkwardly) change the subject, commenting on the color of Satan’s jacket to distract him from his inquiry, and he picks up on the hint, quietly huffing as he turns back to his book 

But the mild irritation he feels doesn’t let him fully delve back into the realm of the nonfiction novel he was reading, so he’s more than a little distracted as he goes back to reading about human anthropology

And it’s in this state of distraction that he notices the little glances you’re stealing every so often, before returning to your sketchpad

Yeah, it doesn’t take long for Satan to put two and two together

“Are you drawing me?”

An incredulous question, asked in such an offending tone

He sounds so irate by the fact that you can’t help but helplessly deny it, muttering something about drawing plants and flowers instead

But Satan doesn’t believe it, and in an instant he’s standing behind you, staring at the sketch in your hands which has oh-so-beautifully captured the essence of him on the couch, engrossed in a book with the light from the flames in the fireplace flickering gently against his skin

The anger at being drawn without having agreed to it quickly melts into a quiet awe for your skill

“Can I see your other drawings?” He asks gently, no longer irritated but actually impressed

“I-I’m not sure if you’ll want to—”

“Nonsense. Show me.”

And so you do

You hand him the sketchbook, avoiding his eyes as he flips to the very first page—and imagine his surprise when he sees that even that is a sketch of his face, though the artwork is significantly less advanced than the piece he just saw. Satan flips to the next page, and then the next, and the next, and sure enough: they’re all of him

“I-I just needed a model to practice my artwork on,” You mumble, gaze fixated on the couch. “And you were right there, so I couldn’t resist...and then I needed a model again. And again. And you were always there, and I know I never asked, but I’m sorry, and if you don’t want me to, I won’t—“

“Nonsense,” Satan murmurs, pressing a finger to your lips. His smile has never looked as sincere as it looks now, his gaze flickering back and forth between your face and the sketchbook in his hands

“I’ll be your model, if you so desire it. Just tell me how you want me to sit.”

Asmodeus

Your model for everything

You’re trying to draw the Hulk and you a good frame of reference? And you need a really muscular model? And Beel ABSOLUTELY fits the bill? 

Yeah no, Asmo’s your model

You want to draw a child? Someone small and short, roughly the exact same height as Luke (who is an ANGEL and would absolutely help you)? Yeah no, Asmo’s still going to be your model.

Want a cute guy? Asmo. Cute girl? Asmo. Cute animal? Still Asmo.

Man refuses to leave you alone - the second he learns that you’re an artist he insists on gracing your work with the holy sight of his body

Highkey wants to model nude

And you’d be lying if you said that he was a bad model—man can hold a pose for hours without moving even a little, his only fault is that he talks incessantly—but you can easily quiet him by saying that you’re drawing his lips - and the moment you do so, he’s suddenly he’s stiller than a statue,  doing his absolute best to remain frozen so that you can capture his perfection

Boi posts 100% of your content on his Devilgram, and while you were hesitant about it at first, now you’re just used to it

Thanks to him, you’re a lowkey celebrity

Like demons love your art style 

It’s apparently very refreshing and human-like as compared to the dark and dreary art found in the Devildom, so people go wild over Asmo’s Devilgram page for it

Man thinks that they’d go even more wild if you drew something where he modeled nude

In fact, it’s lowkey a business deal that the two of you have - you allow Asmo to post your work on his Devilgram (giving credit to you, of course), and in exchange he pays for all your art supplies, acts as your model (though that’s really more of him wanting to than it being your choice), and even goes as far as to keep Mammon apart from you while you work, insisting that you need “privacy” and “quiet” while you draw

100% acts like he isn’t even more chatty than Mammon when given the chance

On the bright side, it’s thanks to these weekly art sessions where you draw and Asmo models and talks that you’re always up to date on the latest gossip. You’re 100% caught up with the fact that Zahhak just found out he has another illegitimate son and that Baphomet just liked Rusalka’s post from fourteen centuries ago

So yeah, the two of you have a mutually beneficial relationship

Asmodeus still insists that one thing would make it better though: him modeling nude

But Asmo is a sweetheart about everything, and he goes out of his way to pamper you 

Specifically, your hands—after all, those are what work your artistic magic!

Expect him to always be peppering your dominant hand with kisses, massaging it whenever you look tired, giving you weekly manicures completely free of charge, all out of the goodness of Asmo’s heart

*ahem* and weekly requests to model nude

Beelzebub

a m a z e m e n t 

Boi is entranced

Like, he’s so mesmerized by your art that he’s not even paying attention to the food sitting right in front of him, simply opting to stare more intently at the drawing you’re holding up so eagerly

It’s quite beautiful, really: The seven demon brothers surrounding you, a reworking of a photograph Lucifer took a few months ago but in your art style. And for that last fact, Beel thinks he likes this version better

“Wow,” He finally manages to say, still too impressed to really think of anything else

He lets his brothers shower you in praise and compliments, silently nodding along and agreeing with every plaudit they thrust your way

But the moment you’re alone, expect to be scooped into his arms and carried to his room

Boi instantly wants to know the process

When do you draw? How long does it take? Where do you do it? How are you getting your supplies? Who pays?

It’s not so much the physical process he’s interested in, but rather the nuances of art that make your work look so you. He’s not interested in learning for the sake of doing, but simply for the sake of understanding because he already appreciates your art so much

Absolutely invites you to his room to have you show him the art process the next time you start working on a piece

And after the first time, then, he invites you back a second - then a third - and then the two of you have settled into a routine where after school, you come to his room and pencil away in your sketchpad, with Beel watching in the background, munching on snacks

It’s quite relaxing for him, actually

He likes watching as you bring a piece together, going over previously flat areas with a second layer of shading to make certain elements pop—and even if he doesn’t completely understand what you’re doing, he’s entirely willing to learn, listening peacefully as you explain what the various tools do

By the end of the month, man has actually memorized all the names of your supplies, handing them to you every time you ask for it - be it something as simple as a request for an eraser or just the blending stump

Lowkey, your work has actually improved since you began working up in Beel’s room

Not only does he have the most comfortable setup, but the man pampers you like royalty, always making sure that there’s water or food for you in case you need something

(And if you do happen to require something that isn’t already in Beel’s room, man will 100% get it for you so that you don’t have to stop what you’re doing)

Honestly, it’s the perfect arrangement: he gives you the ideal working space and you give him hours upon hours of intrigue

And if you happen to begin sitting in his lap one day while you work, something which quickly turns into a pattern, who’s there to stop anything? ;)

Belphegor

Man naps

A lot

And you just happen to be his favorite pillow, so it’s hardly a surprise when all your free time is spent in the presence of a dozing Belphie, always passed out over your legs

So once, just once, you pull your sketchpad out from under your pillow and work on it, a cautious eye trained on the seventh-born’s every move in case he stirs

And when that first time goes smoothly, you pull your sketchpad out a second time

Then a third

Then a fourth - and suddenly, you’re caught in a pattern

It was really just a matter of time until Belphie woke up one day and you didn’t notice

And it’s already too late when the drowsy demon lifts his head, peering curiously onto your lap to see what you’re working on—much to your horror

“Y-you’re awake,” You mutter halfheartedly, a sick feeling settling in your stomach as you watch the demon’s expression shift as he studies your artwork

You hate it

A bubble of anxiety begins to rise, fear over whether he will like your work or call it bad, whether he’ll make fun of your work or tell the brothers, whether he’ll be kind about it or mean

But then, much to your surprise, he flops back onto your lap, utterly unphased

“Nice,” The demon comments casually, stretching as he rests his head along your thigh. “It’s pretty.”

You can only blink as he falls back asleep, utterly confused as to what just happened

He woke up, right? And he saw your art? And he complimented it, telling you that he thought it was nice and pretty?

A sound of disbelief escapes your mouth as you try to process the utter nonchalance with which the whole exchange had concluded with, your shock only interrupted by the light sound of Belphie, who’s already snoring

You groan

But now that Belphie has seen your work, it’s not like there’s much point in hiding it any longer, right?

You pull your sketchbook out, silently continuing to work on the design that the man napping on your lap had said to be “nice,” adding some finishing touches to it 

And when Belphie wakes up, he speaks nothing of the entire exchange

From that point and onward, you become a little more comfortable around him, relieved that you don’t need to talk about it with him

And he gets it

For all your free time, while he naps, you draw, and the two of you find a comfortable form of peace together, an odd tranquility lurking in the fact that there are no questions, no answers, just you and him, the sound of scribbling and snoring, your sketchpad and his pillow

And really, who needs anything else?

Solomon

He’s probably the first one to realize, on his own, that you’re an artist

The two of you have nearly all your classes together, thanks to Lord Diavolo, so it’s hardly surprising when the ever-astute sorcerer picks up on the fact that every time he casts you a second glance, you’re working on some mysterious sketch underneath your desk

Doesn’t really care at first

Until he sees your work

Man actually stops when he picks your sketchbook up off the ground, inspecting the page it had flipped open to after you dropped it

“Holy shit”

Doesn’t even ask for permission, he just begins browsing through the sketchbook, growing more and more impressed with each new page he sees

You only snatch the book back from his hands when you realize that the sketch he’s staring at so intently is one you drew of him, thanking him for picking it up with a huff and awkwardly trying to remove yourself from the situation as fast as humanly (heh, yes that is a pun) possible

Wizard boy stops you, ofc

“Come with me”

“But I have class soon—"

Again, doesn’t even wait for your agreement, man just drags you by the forearm to the library and flips open a book, throws down his own notebook, and demands that you use your “art skills or whatever” to help him

Sigh

Precious wizard boy isn’t very good with words when he’s all worked up

It takes you a good 5 minutes to understand that he wants you to compare the summoning circle outlined on the book with the one he sketched to identify where he went wrong, because apparently you have an “artist’s eye” and therefore you should be able to assist him - and he refuses to believe you when you try to convince him that no, this is not your strong suit and you will likely be unable to help him

He gets whinier than Asmo (probably where he gets it from) and will not stop nagging you even as you try to leave, so eventually you just give in and agree to try to help him - and it wounds up being surprisingly easy for you to realize that he missed the secondary outline of the inner circle, among another few minor mistakes

Huh, maybe you are naturally inclined toward this

From that moment and onward, Solomon decides that you are officially valuable (not only do you have magical potential, but you have an eye for summoning circles too? how UNFAIR) and begins spending all his time with you

Doesn’t really care about the fact that you’re an artist at first—is really more interested in how your skills can be applied

But then one day, after a particularly rough night of going through twelve whole summoning circles for twelve powerful demons, he takes a nap and wakes up to find you passed out on the floor, sleeping on top of your sketchbook where you fell asleep doodling him

Highkey touched

And slowly, he begins casually “falling asleep” around you more often, to see and flip through more of your artwork when he wakes up 

Sigh

Bby is fucking shady even when he does wholesome shit

Simeon

Okay let’s be real

There’s no peace with the seven demon brothers. Solomon is chaotic. Luke, as much as we love him, is just a lot to be around. And even with Barbatos next to him, Diavolo is a walking tornado that tends to wreak havoc whenever he wills it (and he usually wills it).

So honestly, being with Simeon is the only place of tranquility you can find in the entire Devildom

Specifically, his room

*Which is off-limits to all the aforementioned individuals

He extended the invitation for you to spend some “relaxation time” in his quarters whenever you pleased at the beginning of the year, his angelic heart already sensing the absolute whirlwind of disaster you were walking into when you joined RAD

And while you declined his offer immediately out of politeness, you found yourself sheepishly knocking on his door not one week into the program

And now it’s become an every-day sort of thing

So yeah

Simeon knows about your art

In fact, you can’t seem to draw unless you’re in his presence, because at this point, he naturally soothes you so much that your hand is only steady when you hear the sound of his calm breathing in the background

In fact, you work best when the two of you are spread out on his couch, your back resting comfortably on Simeon’s shoulder while he writes (yes, he manually writes all his books on pen and paper) and you put your legs up on the couch, sketching away in your notebook

It’s the very image of peace, something you can’t seem to find anywhere else in this realm

And Simeon, bless his heart, may be a master of calligraphy, but the precious angel cannot draw to save his life - a fact which you have taken it upon yourself to handle

See, the angel gets tired every now and then—understandable, given that he produces literal masterpieces at his hands

And so when he gets tired, what does he do? 

Make incomprehensible doodles in the upper left corners of his papers

So, of course, you’ve taken it upon yourself to bring those doodles to life (even if it requires a half-hour of inspection before you can make out what the sketch was supposed to be) and Simeon loves it

The expression of eagerness that surfaces every time you inform him that you’ve finished a piece is so rewarding, because the childlike glee with which he takes the paper from your hands to inspect it always sends a rush of warmth to your heart as he gushes in appreciation

But uh 

Simeon is a special kind of chaotic, something that manifests every time he doodles something on paper

You stare at the angel in disbelief as he informs you that his latest doodle (what appears to be a banana-looking creature in sunglasses?) was actually a monkey ironing clothes—unsure what to say in light of this information

But it’s okay :) There only needs to be one artist in this relationship, and it clearly isn’t him

Luke

It started with cake

He needed “inspiration” to make something for Barbatos, as a thank-you gift for the pastry lessons the elder gave him, but Luke claimed that everything he made, while it tasted fine, lacked in the aesthetic department

And while normally you would play it Simeon-style, leaving it to the younger angel to handle things on his own so that he can grow individually, you felt too bad watching him discard another batch of cupcakes into Beel’s mouth, rubbing his head in aggravation over how annoying it was that nothing was looking right

So you helped him out

It was nothing major, really

Just eight doodles—subtle yet elegant designs for a triple-tiered cake, childish and bouncy arrangements to store flan, little details in frosting to give cupcakes the added element of specialty that makes them infinitely better

But the second Luke saw your paper, he went wild

Boi was running to the kitchen so fast he barely even had the time to shout “thank you” 

Apparently, your little sketches sparked inspiration in him so strongly that the flames burned til midnight (much to Simeon’s disapproval), but when Luke was finally done with everything, he walked out of the kitchen with a tray of desserts that looked so perfect it was hard to imagine that he brought them to life from your sketches

Luke spent ages thanking you, shoving desserts down your throat even when you insisted that you were full, so unimaginably grateful that you helped him out of what he called “chef’s block”

Each “thank you” was accompanied either a brownie or a slice of mango mousse or whatever new pastry Luke was creating that day, and before long you were getting to enjoy luxury foods on the daily (much to Beel’s jealousy)

Boy only believed that the debt was paid when you told him that there was no debt to pay, that you sketched those quick little doodles for him out of kindness and not obligation

Believe it or not, Luke’s eyes actually welled with tears for a second at that, before he wrapped you up in a giant (is it really giant if the hugger is so little?) hug, wailing something about you being too “pure” and “perfect” for the Devildom, and that one day you would be very happy in the Celestial Realm

You pat his head, telling him that if it truly made him this happy, you would be glad to help him out again and sketch some food doodles whenever he wanted some new ideas

Cue another round of hugs, muffled crying, and sobs about how amazing you are

Barbatos

Barbatos knew, of course

Not because he used his powers or anything, he would hardly use them for something so trivial, but he was aware from the start that you were an artist because it was he who prepared for your arrival in the Devildom, ensuring that you had all the same amenities and comforts you were used to in the human realm

And, as such, that included art supplies

So the very moment he set his eyes on you, he was aware that you were an artist

What he didn’t expect was for you to actually be good at it

He sees your sketchbook when he’s casually strolling through the RAD library, finding you completely knocked out on one of the tables, the spiral binding of the sketchpad still digging indents into your cheek where you lie on top of it

At first, the butler rearranges your position as a courtesy

He lifts your head and rests it on your hand - which makes a much softer pillow -  coincidentally placing your books back inside your bag and taking a moment to organize the papers strewn across the desk

But then he just happens to glance inside

And the second he does, he’s mesmerized

There’s not much in the world that can surprise Barbatos - not after he’s looked after Diavolo, of all people, for so many millennia - but the butler still finds himself holding his breath as he flips through your sketchpad, each piece telling a story so evocative that it leaves him wanting more even when he arrives at a blank page, abruptly realizing that he’s just gone through your entire sketchbook without your permission

Of course, you just have to wake up at that precise moment - sleepy eyes glancing up at the butler and wondering if you’re hallucinating, but the book in his hands is far too real and the shocked expression on his face is impossibly jarring and you flinch, suddenly feeling self-conscious as you realize what must have happened

Barbatos is a perfect gentleman about it, kindly telling you to get more rest so that you don’t pass out in a public library surrounded by demons who want to eat your soul, but he ends the sharp warning with a rather kind remark about your artwork

“I liked the second-last piece best,” He murmurs, casting you a cryptic smile before bidding you farewell

And obviously, the moment he’s out of sight, your nose is buried in your sketchbook, fingers flipping furiously to find the second-last piece you drew which you cannot seem to remember at all, and—

Oh

A flush immediately erupts on your cheeks as you see the colored sketch, something inspired by nothing more than a whim

It’s simply two people on a walk—both of them vague imitations of what your mind had wistfully conjured up—one of them bearing the telltale mismatched hair and olive green eyes, the other sharing a quiet resemblance to yourself - a conscious decision, of course

But just as you’re about to flip off the page, another detail you’d forgotten about draws your attention—and your cheeks suddenly burn in embarrassment as you realize why Barbatos singled this piece out

The figures are smiling, gazing at each other from the corners of their eyes. And there, in the very center of the piece, it is obvious: 

They are holding hands

Diavolo

RIP to Diavolo’s royal painter

They have been replaced

By you

As much as you fought it, as much as you argued that you were not fitting of this position, as much as you pleaded with the demon lord to not force this title upon your shoulders, Diavolo’s decision to appoint you as the honorary Devildom painter was final—and nothing can change his mind once it’s made up

The title is really just that: a title. Diavolo knows that you’re a busy student, and while he honored your artistic talents with this position, he’s not about to actually force you through the expected proceedings of a true royal painter, not while you’re trying to survive being an exchange student in hell with an entirely unfamiliar curriculum in front of you

But on occasion, he’ll send you a text, asking if you’re free

And you’ll head on over to his palace, ready to paint him

And unlike every other demon, angel, and human in the Devildom, when Diavolo models for you, he actually models nude

Asmo is jealous

Sexual tension is high when you paint him, let’s just leave things at that

And honestly, it really doesn’t matter what you paint - Diavolo seems to be more interested in the fact that it’s a human who did the art in the first place

He once saw your RAD binder, noticing the little doodles you’d drawn on the corner of all your papers, and he immediately took them—declaring that they were art to be preserved for all eternity for historical documentation purposes

So yeah

There’s a hall in Diavolo’s palace filled with your RAD math homework, an eternal reminder of the assignments you copied off of Solomon

(You’re not sure what’s more embarrassing: the fact that you’ve drawn some rather inappropriate doodles on those pages or the fact that, despite having copied all the answers, you still managed to get nearly one-third of the problems wrong, and now your mistakes are to be showcased in the Devildom for centuries to come)

It gets to the point where you and Solomon start making bets over how basic you can get with your art for Diavolo to still consider it “amazing” and “utterly awe-inspiring,” as he likes to put it

In honor of that bet, there is currently a banana peel with a few marker doodles on it hanging in a preserved case in an iced room in the lowest levels of the palace, as none of the “art” can be wasted

But in truth, the demon lord’s fixation with human culture is endearing, especially when Diavolo tries so hard to be accepting of it

So eventually you stop giving Diavolo wacky art and actually start putting your full effort into your creations—your reward being the fact that the final piece you complete gets hung in Diavolo’s private bedroom, where he promises to gaze at it every night for the rest of eternity, vowing to remember his time with you every time he sees it

[catxsnow]

DAMIAN WAYNE FLUFF ALPHABET

A/N: It was pointed out that this got deleted so here it is again! Damian is 18+

A = Attractive (What do they find attractive about the other?)

Damian doesn't focus on the physical attributes of you, so he finds your personality the most attractive. If you can keep up with his wit then he knows that you're a keeper. However, he does find himself getting lost in your eyes quite often so he would have to say that he loves those the most.  B = Baby (Do they want a family? Why/Why not?)

I'm gonna have to say no. Damian loves you and he doesn't believe that he needs kids to keep loving you. Maybe when the two of you are way older, but he doesn't see having kids for a very long time. He would be open to adoption when you guys are too old for having your own kids. C = Cuddle (How do they cuddle?)

Damian hated cuddling with you at first. He ran warm enough as it was and to have another body under the blankets? He was sweating. Once he got used to it, Damian liked when you laid on his chest and he could wrap his arms around you.  D = Dates (What are dates with them like?)

Either ridiculously mundane or over the top extravagant there is no in between.

One time Damian took you across the world just to go hike and buy local delicacy. Another time he considered the grilled cheese sandwich Alfred made for you both a date. It really depends on what kind of occasion it is.  E = Everything (You are my ____ (e.g. my life, my world...))

Damian says 'habibi, ya nour el ein' which means 'you're the light of my eye' in Arabic. F = Feelings (When did they know they were in love?)

It took Damian a long time to realize that he was in love. It's not easy for him to love someone after the way he was raised to opening up to you was a side that he didn't know he had.

He realized it one night when you were tending to his wounds as being Robin. You worked silently as you always did. Damian realized that if there was anyone he wished to stitch him up day in day out it was you. He broke that silence with an 'I love you' and you had nearly fucked up his wound even more with shock. G = Gentle (Are they gentle? If so, how?)

Damian is gentle but he gets violent when he had nightmares. He never means to hurt you and you know that, but he always feels terrible when he sees that he left you with a bruise because of his rash actions while in his sleep. You never blame him for his nightmares, he's gone through so much as it is. H = Hands (How do they like to hold hands?)

Damian doesn't like to hold hands, especially in public. The only time that he will willing grab onto you hand is if he can tell that you're nervous about something. Otherwise, just standing next to you is enough. I = Impression (What was their first impression?)

He didn't like you. Then again, he never liked anyone at first. J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous?)

Damian gets jealous for reason you never expect. He gets jealous of his brothers and when you spend time with any of them. He gets when Alfred the cat sits on you rather than him. He only got jealous at another man once and it didn't end well at all. He was all over the papers and Bruce nearly had a fit when he tried to fix what happened. K = Kiss (How do they kiss? Who initiated the first kiss?)

You did. He was being an asshole and wouldn't shut up about something so you decided to make him quit talking in a different kind of way. Damian didn't complain about it though. L = Love (Who says 'I love you' first?)

He did. You felt it first, but you never said anything until he felt comfortable enough to realize that he loved you too. M = Memory (What's their favourite memory together?)

His favorite memory was when he was trying to teach you to draw. Damian held the utmost patience for you and he genuinely enjoyed spending that time with you. You spent the whole day practicing and looking for his approval. He loved everything you drew simply because it came from you. He still has your drawings hanging up. N = Nickel (Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?)

Yes. Without question he'll buy you everything that you could ever dream of. Being the heir to the throne of the League of Assassins and son of Bruce Wayne he got a lot of items that he didn't even need. He loves to spoil you with things. O = Orange (What colour reminds them of their other half?)

Red. As calm and as patient as you were, you had a fiery side when it came to Damian being a brat. When he saw anything red, he always thought about the times that you called him out. P = Pet names (What pet names do they use?)

Beloved (as every Damian fanfic has ever had) Habibti/Habibi (my love), Ameli (my hope) Q = Quaint (What is their favourite non-modern thing?)

Damian is surrounded by tech all day. So when he takes to the time to read a good book, he's in his happy place. He's read all the great historic literature and has tried more modern books but didn't like them as much. R = Rainy Day (What do they like to do on a rainy day?)

Damian likes to draw on rainy days. He's got a great talent for it and doesn't get enough time to practice it. You'll be laying on his bed while he draws and the rain patters against the window. When you get lonely, you'll stare until he notices and then pout until he joins you in his bed. The half a drawing left no longer matter, he just wishes to hold you. S = Sad (How do they cheer themselves/others up?)

Damian cheers himself up by training. He'll spend hours working out and training like he did back in the League. When he's finally wore himself out, he'll find you and pass out in your arms. That's all he needs.

When it comes to cheering you up, Damian became a great listener. He refrains from making snooty comments about the people that you are ranting about and tried to give a level headed solution to your problem. However, he's always ready to go petrify anyone that has made you upset. T = Talking (What do they like to talk about?)

Damian's got a well-rounded knowledge about everything. He could talk to you about every war that's ever happened or how the earth works. When he's in a talkative mood, he loves to spill facts about everything that he knows. It's not a way of him being cocky, he's just genuinely excited to tell you things. U = Unencumbered (What helps them relax?)

Damian doesn't relax. But when he does, its when he's injured or forced to stay home. You'll baby him for the night and even though he seems mad about it, he enjoys it (only when it's from you, not anyone else). He'll get Alfred to bake you guys cookies and settle in for a movie of his picking. V = Vaunt (What do they like to show off? What are they proud of?)

Damian's proud of everything he does. He's a show off particularly with his athleticism. He doesn't have one specific thing that he likes to show off, except maybe his art. W = Wedding (When, how, where do they propose?)

Damian doesn't. X = Xylophone (What's their song?)

Bloodflood by alt-j Y = Yes (Do they ever think of getting married/proposing?)

Nope. Damian doesn't see the need for you two to get married. He doesn't want some fancy wedding just to show off your love. As long as you know how much he loves you, then that's all that he cares about. If he were to get married, it would be something extremely lowkey. Your immediate family and his, that's its. No supers, no teams, nothing. Z = Zebra (If they wanted a pet, what would they get?)

Damian was ready to adopt a whole herd of cows do you really think that he's going to settle on just one more pet? No, he's gonna get every single helpless animal that he can.

[confused-as-all-hell]

Feyre Archeron

You do not falter.

You do not fear.

You do not yield.

Feyre Archeron, sweet and whimsical and bright. Cursebreaker, Princess of Carrion, High Lady of the Night Court. A girl who understood desperation and poverty, who drew herself up, who set her jaw and said “I will make this world a better place.”

Feyre has done so much for YA literature, and for young girls who are not fiery and angry. She has shown them you can be gentle and patient, and yet proud and dignified. My lovely Feyre does not need a knife or power to be revered: she is wonderful without magical aid.

I have seen unacceptable hatred concerning the High Lady, stating she is weak and useless, that she has done nothing to be worthy of her throne. Since when do women have to be rude and bitter to be sovereigns? Since when do we get to name ourselves feminists and then turn to ridicule girls for being kind? 

Feyre’s strength has been kindness and warmth, from the first page of ACOTAR to the last of ACOSF. She loves unconditionally and irrevocably, from her blood family to the IC, and never sidelines a single soul. She ventured beneath the mountain for Tamlin, underwent those awful trials for the sakes of strangers, tried time and time again to reach out her hand.

She loves Mor like a sister, protecting her day and night, looking after her without a second thought, mindful of her trauma always. 

She loves Cassian as though he were her brother, lounging with him because she understands he needs physical contact, teasing him, coming to him with tears on her face.

She loves Amren in her own way, offering her unswerving privacy and respect, going out for dinners together, buying her incredibly thoughtful gifts.

She loves Azriel, even if their relationship isn’t a loud one, offering him silence and respect and warmth.

She loves her sisters, defending them without fail, risking her life every night while they complained ceaselessly, working to help them the best way she knows how.

She loves her son, proving over and over that she would give him the world, giving him all the kindness and affection she never received as a little girl, taking her trauma and learning from it.

And she loves Rhys, broken, shattered, ruined Rhys. She lights lamps to banish the darkness, kisses away his nightmares with aching gentleness, giving him brutal honesty and her stark opinion.

Feyre does not need to fight and rage in order to be a YA character. She is allowed to be soft and sweet and patient, is allowed to forgive those who wrong her, is allowed to set her boundaries. My girl fought for her entire life, pleading her for mother’s attention, hunting in those dangerous woods for her family, giving herself to a world of poison and hatred.

It is okay for Feyre to set down her knife and rest. She can take time with her son (still can’t believe she’s a mom, but she deserves that happiness) and husband, work on healing her own trauma. 

She did not fuck her way onto the throne. Yes, Rhys married her and gave her the title, but Feyre was a queen without a crown. She proves every day she is worth more than your stupid fucking hate.

Feyre worked so hard to try and make her world a better place, and she is happy to share that joy with her family. I am sick of characters taking the burden of the world onto their shoulders. Feyre shares her victory with those she cares for, so they might feel that wonder, so they might do their part, so that she might sit back every once in a while and breathe.

She is allowed to want her own space, to say “I am not allowing this” without being called a bitch. Feyre is perfectly within her rights to see a suffering sister and intervene.

I have my own little sister, much like Feyre herself, warm and patient and loving. If she was suffering and drinking in copious and abusing herself, I would step in without a second’s hesitation. She is my fucking sister. I am always going to look after her, like Feyre looked after Nesta and Elain.

Some of you comparing Tamlin to Feyre, do you not have siblings? Or friends, for the matter? It is not abuse to remove your loved ones from a toxic environment where they are hurting themself. I went into this in detail, via my Nesta and Feyre post.

Feyre is the kindest YA protagonist I’ve ever read, with the courage to remain warm in such a cold world. She doesn’t take shit from anyone, but she does not start any, either. She tries to seek the good in people, to find that light within, and such is the beauty of our High Lady.  

[sashi-ya]

Living with the Pirates of Heart ~Day 11: Go Law, You Can Do It!

Hi babies! So, I know I haven't updated this series in a while, but today is my bd and so I was inspired to tell you another part of this cute story... ♥~

A/N: Reader's still not Law's gf. But soon she will be ♥

WC: 1367

Day 1; Day 2; Day 3; Day 4; Day 5; Day 6 ; Day 7; Day 8; Day 9; Day 10; Day 11

Tag list: @rivvd-art ; @yuumic ; @donna-wants-to-be-an-alien; @simpforroses ♥

So, I have already told about adventures lived by Law and Reader being already a couple, or when they were nothing more than nakamas and even how Law proposed to her. But… How did they become a couple in the first place?

Well, you see…

It’s (Name)’s birthday, and of course the whole crew including Law knew. Law, as shy as always, stayed in his office for as long as he could. The memories of the day when he was turned into a baby and woke up -naked- over his crush still haunt him...

He asked her to please let him stay like that, and she told him to do so. But things turned in a different direction than what he had expected… The whole crew came running to (Name)’s room. Law, covered by a thin sheet, the only one that Bepo left when he ran away, felt in heaven spell bound by his lover's scent. Until everybody shouted, excited, “CAPTAIN! you are an adult again!”... In a minute Law shambled himself out of your room. You, astonished, were left alone by your nakamas the very moment they realized what they had interrupted.

“I should calm myself down… I’ve been avoiding (Name)-ya for some days… It’s just not ok. It’s her birthday today… I should give her something special” Law repeats himself, spinning from side to side on his chair. He takes several attempts but on the tenth he finally stands up. Walking straight to the door, like a true man, convinced he could go and wish his crush a happy birthday, he stops right at the exit.

“Fuck. I need a plan”

Law, who loves to think about every step he will take to do certain tasks, begins massaging his earlobe. He plays with one of his golden earrings, burning his head into thinking what’s a good present for you. He doesn’t want to go and buy a simple thing on a random island, no. Law never does gifts, but (Name) was certainly special.

But the true reason behind his fear was no other than the fact that they never got to speak about that -close- situation a few nights ago.

“Captain!” Bepo knocks on his door. He freezes for a second until realizes it’s just his brother. “Come in, Bepo”. The polar bear enters and stands still. “Captain! You look miserable! It’s Name’s birthday, aren’t you coming? She's gonna blow the candles in a minute. I know you don’t like cake, but you know… for her” Bepo tells him, looking at the ground, probably a little disappointed from Law’s actions. The captain notices right away, and realizes he is being not only selfish, but also a little coward. Law softly pushes Bepo to the door, and after taking his hat off, he leaves the room.

In the kitchen, (Name) is sitting on Law’s usual spot so she could be in the very middle. Around her, his nakamas waiting for him to arrive so they could sing “Happy Birthday” to her.

Law and (Name)’s sights crossed, and a subtle smile drew on her face. He was there, too. The most important person was there for her. Law quickly breaks eye contact; he looks straight to the table where a little plate with two onigiris were specially reserved for him. (Name)-ya always remembers small details about me.

The surgeon's heart beats a little too strong. Could it be? Is she…? Is she in love with me too?...

Once the birthday chant was over, and (Name) took just a single second to make her wishes before he could blow the candles, it was time for the hugs…

Bepo, garchuu’ed her. Penguin and Shachi attacked her with lots of tickles. Everybody hugs and congrats her. And it’s time for Law to do it. She stays on her seat, she doesn’t want to make him uncomfortable, yet she wants a hug, so much. And he does too.

But shyness and Law’s trembling limbs only allowed him to place a tattooed hand over her shoulder. A soft, low whisper “H-happy birthday, (Name)-ya”. The disappointment in her eyes at such a cold salute, broke Law’s heart… but after all, it was all his fault.

The party goes by for at least two hours more, the sun begins to hide and the orangey tones of its set stop filtering through the several hatches of the Polar Tang. Law couldn’t think about anything else during the whole party… What am I gonna give her? Should I tell her?. His earlobe turned red from the times he played with his earrings while thinking.

Penguin, who has been noticing Law’s weird conduct, tells him to follow him to the control room. Law, relieved his friend tried to save him from the social interaction, follows him right away.

“Are you dumb?” Pen asks his captain, hitting the table in the middle of the control room. Law, surprised by a sudden burst of insubordination -yet, realizing it was his brother, not his nakama who was talking to him- asks “WHY?”.

“Why? I thought you had any brains in there!” Pen, annoyed, keeps attacking him. “Penguin, why the fuck are you treating me like this?”. His friend, frowning, walks up to him pointing his index finger to him.

“If you don’t man up, I swear I’m gonna make her fall in love with me, Law!”

Law gasps, and instead of getting mad he stands still looking at his brother. Glossy eyes, trembling lips. “What am I supposed to do, Pen? You know I have absolutely no clue… What if she leaves me?”.

“You know her more than any of us, it’s as simple as it is. Just go and tell her. Not everyone you love will leave you, Law. No one ever did. Your family didn’t leave you, Cora either. They were and will always be here with you even if you can’t see them. We won’t leave you, she from every person in this submarine won’t leave you. Go.Tell.Her”.

And that’s exactly what Law needed to hear, and so that was how he ended up knocking at her door…

“(Name)-ya, can we talk for a second?...”

She jolts, a shiver running through her spine. (Name) stands up from bed, Ikkaku on her side only giggled. She knew… “Law has finally grown a pair of balls, (Name)” she says, while you walk to the door, limbs weak.

“Would you… come with me… outside?” he stutters. She takes a breath and nods. The walking through the metallic halls of the submarine seems eternal. Law climbs the ladder first and stretches his arm to help her climb too. The soft interlocking of fingers as he pulls her out, feels electric.

A starry night, a storm approaching from the east over the grand line. A bright moon, silver shine bathing them. The sea around the Polar Tang, making the docked ship softly rock.

“(Name)-ya… take a seat” he says, pointing to a little sheet spread over the deck. She, still not speaking, obeyed the orders of her captain. He sits next to her, his tattooed arms hugging his knees. Perhaps it was Law’s unconscious attempt of wanting to hide.

He takes a little time to speak, until some words get out of his mouth… “I’m sorry…”. grey eyes reflecting the moon, as he fixes his eyes towards the celestial body. She looks at him, amazed by the beautiful way the silver shine mixes with his steel irises. “For what, Law?”.

“For taking so much time”

He suddenly snatches her face in between his inked hands, and without any warning places his lips over hers…

A kiss that lasted as much as their lips could endure, and even more. Red skin around their mouths. Something that took so much time, worth it every single second of it. Even some tears fall from their eyes.

The surgeon and her lover take air when their lips parted, pressing their foreheads together to enjoy each other’s warm sight. Soft smiles, pure love in between them.

Law takes his hands to his earlobes. In a second the first golden hoop was off his ear and as gentle as he could be, he put it on her ear.

“Happy Birthday… I love you…♥”

[calpalirwin]

Permanent Vacation

Summary: Calum falls for a musician.

A/N: I just really wanted an excuse to use Arrows in Action newest releases in a fic. (They’re bangers. You should go give ‘em a listen.)

Word Count: 2.8k

And away, and away we go!

__

The sun was hot as it beat down on my neck, the line for the beerstand long, and the noises of people chatting excitedly were loud in my ears. But I didn’t care in the slightest. After the isolating shitshow that was quarantine, I was more than happy to be out at a festival with, wait for it, live fuckin’ music. The only way I could be happier was if my band was in the lineup, but this was still a pretty close second. To be surrounded by musicians and people who loved music was a breath of fresh air after so long. A breath of very hot fresh air. But still.

Behind me I heard the girlish giggling and whispers of my name, which drew the attention of the group in front of me: three guys, and a girl around my own age, two of the guys a good shoulder and head taller than the other man and girl. The shortest of the guys whispered, “Could you imagine if we got noticed like that?”

The tall brunette’s eyes went wide as he pulled a face and shook his head. “No, thanks. I think I’d cry.”

The other tall one with purple hair laughed loudly, “Aw, c’mon, that would be rad! His band’s not even in the lineup and he still gets recognized. Could you imagine?”

“He has a name, and can hear you, J,” the girl hissed with a playful eye roll. Then, she flashed me a smile before calling out in a loud voice, “Hey, man! Good to see ya! How ya been?” to me, before taking a step forward and stretching up to wrap her arm around my shoulders like we were old friends. “Just go with it,” she added under her breath. “Nobody’ll bug you for pictures and autographs if you’re with a bigger group.”

“Thanks,” I laughed at her rescue attempt. “But it’s fine if they do. I don’t mind.”

“Yeah, but they can at least let you buy a fuckin’ beer first.”

“Well, thanks again,” I said, not sure of what else to say, or do so I let her pull me up with her friends who were all staring at her with I’m sure the same look of soft shock I had on my own face.

“I’m Y/N, by the way.” She let go of me as she started introducing her friends to me. “And this is Jesse.”

“Hello,” the tall one with purple hair smiled warmly.

“That’s Matt,” she nudged the other tall one.

“Hey.”

“And this is Vic,” she finished, looking at the shortest man who waved.

“Nice to meet you guys. I’m Calum,” I said, then realized how stupid that was. “But, you already knew that, huh?”

Y/N grinned, holding her thumb and index finger close together. “Just a smidge. But it’s cool. So, any bands you’re particularly excited to see?”

“The Maine and All Time Low mostly. I’m a huge fan of The Maine, and All Time Low are friends of mine.”

“Both are great bands. And the All Time Low guys are good friends to have, for sure.”

“Oh, you know them?”

“Yeah, we worked with them a few times.”

“Worked with? Fellow musicians, huh?”

She laughed. “We’re up and comers, yeah.”

“Your cool aunt’s favorite band,” Jesse grinned at me.

Y/N laughed more at the confused look that crossed my face. “That’s one of his favorite ways to refer to us. Like we’re the band you find out from word of mouth from the cool relative that’s always discovering new music.”

“Ah,” I said, nodding in understanding. “Been there. Are you guys in the lineup?”

“Yup!” she chirped happily as we got to the front of the line. “5 beers, please,” she told the person working the counter.

“Oh, you don’t have to,” I tried to decline, reaching quickly for my wallet.

“Relax, it’s just a beer,” she told me, passing me one of the cups being placed on the counter. 

“Well, thanks,” I said, raising the cup and taking a sip. “I’ll getcha guys next time.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” she grinned around the rim of her own cup. “Enjoy your beer, Cal. See ya around.”

~~~

I took the last swallow from my beer, cursing myself for not having stopped her to get the name of her band, or at the very least her last name. But before I had a chance to get the words out, I’d been bombarded with requests from fans for pictures, engaging in small conversations with them, and by the time I was done, Y/N was long gone.

So I resigned myself to walking around the festival grounds, my head reeling. It wasn’t often a woman pretended to be my friend to rescue me from the onslaught of fans. In fact, I couldn’t recall one time that's ever happened. I also wasn’t used to being bought drinks, even if I was still fully intending to return the favor. Although that would require me to find her first. But something told me that wouldn’t be too difficult.

I was grateful I’d come on my own, and not with Ashton who would have no doubt teased me about how hooked I was on the girl. The cynic with a crush? Whatever were the odds? And was it even technically a crush when I’d only interacted with her for maybe five minutes? Okay, maybe Ashton being around wouldn’t be the worst thing if he could help me make sense of the jumble of thoughts in my head. The way that man could bounce from crush to crush almost seamlessly was enough to give me a case of whiplash. 

I sighed as I tossed my cup in the trash. Whether or not it was a crush was still to be determined. All I knew was that I liked her energy, and wanted to see her again. And… that was a crush, wasn’t it? God. Fuckin’. Damn it.

A guitar chord rang out loudly, and there was a mad dash of people running towards the stage. Slowly I pushed my way through the crowd of people towards the front, grinning when I noticed it was her on stage, and grinning even more when I noticed the instrument in her hand. A bassist? Fuck, I was definitely in trouble now.

The shortest of the men, Vic, I recalled, started singing, with the other three providing backup harmony on the chorus. Until they got to the bridge that was all Y/N, her voice ringing out “Tomorrow’s a nightmare, I’m dreaming today. And my head is haunted, the past just can’t stay. The devil you know, yeah he comes and he goes. I’m selfish, and vapid, I hide in my prose!” before they launched into the final chorus.

“What up, Anaheim?!” Vic yelled into his mic to a scream of cheers and applause. “We’re Arrows in Action, and that was our newest single, Only Be Mine. I’m Vic. We got Matt over here on guitar. Jesse’s on the drums. And Y/N’s over there on bass. We got a few more songs for you all. And if you’re an awesome crowd, we might have a special treat for ya at the end of our set. Sound good?”

We answered him in whoops of cheers and loud applause, causing them all to grin as they launched into their next song.

They played seamlessly through about three more songs, enjoying the feeling of playing live in front of people again, before Y/N whooped into her own mic. “Whoo! It’s hot! Anyone else hot? Y’all staying hydrated out there?�� she asked us, before flickering her gaze across the stage at Matt who was wiping his forehead. “You good, Matt?”

“Dude, it’s like a million degrees up here,” he commented, before taking a huge swig from a water bottle.

Y/N laughed. “Right. Y’all gotta understand. Matt’s from the cold states. Then there’s Vic and I who are California natives, technically, right Vic?”

“Yeah, I was born here. But I didn’t live here as long as you did.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. So Vic and I are used to the heat. Matt, not so much. And Jesse? How you doing back there, J?”

“Me?” the drummer pointed at himself in confusion “Oh, I’m great!”

“Great enough to give this crowd a real surprise?” she asked, her voice laced with playful trouble, as she looked at all her bandmates. “C’mon, boys what do ya say? Wanna give this crowd something special before we go?”

Again, we all cheered and applauded as encouragement for whatever surprise they had in mind. “Alright!” Vic laughed. “Alright, you wanna go ahead and introduce it then?”

She smiled wide as she turned towards us. “Alright, everybody! We’re Arrows in Action. We’ve had a great time with y’all! So, as a thank you, we’re gonna play a new song that we haven’t released yet. Is that cool with you?” She laughed as she awaited the response of screaming, whistles, and applause. “Alright. This is called Permanent Vacation, which will be available on all listening platforms this Friday. Let’s go!”

Matt started playing a series of chords that sounded incredibly familiar, while the other three clapped to the beat. But right before the lyrics were supposed to come in, Vic started talking into his mic. “Wait, wait, wait!” he laughed. “I don’t know the lyrics to this!”

“So it’s just like every other song,” Y/N teased him with her own laugh.

“Nah, I think it’s cuz that one’s not ours.”

“Be rad if it was though,” she said, and I swear she shot me a wink. “Alright, alright. So, that one’s not ours. But this one definitely is. And it’s definitely called Permanent Vacation. And it’s out Friday.”

A new guitar and drum beat started up and Vic immediately started singing, again with the rest of the band providing back up vocals until the bridge where it was all Y/N. A soft build before a wild yell that would have torn my own vocal chords to shreds.

“I’m locked and loaded, fire away! Permanent vacation from my brain. Extend my stay another day. Far from home, not alone,” they all finished with a flurry of chords. “Thank you!” Vic croaked into the mic. “Thank you guys so much! We’re Arrows in Action, enjoy the rest of your night!”

With tired but happy smiles, they all bowed before exiting the stage. I moved to follow, but thought better of it, going to hit the drink stand first where I bought 5 beers and 4 waters. A small challenge, made slightly easier by the person working the stand putting the water bottles in a grocery bag for me. With that hanging off my arm, I held 2 beers in each hand, and my own in my teeth.

“Cal!” she laughed, her face flushed when I found them lounging in the grass. “You didn’t have to do that,” she told me as she rose to her feet to help me distribute the beers.

“I said I’d get the next round,” I offered up simply, setting down the bag and taking a seat with them all. “I brought you guys water, too.”

“You really didn’t have to do that,” she laughed, tossing the bottles out anyway, and sitting back down, this time next to me. 

“Shut up, Y/N, let the man do what he wants,” Jesse said, downing a water bottle in 2 gulps before turning his attention to his beer. “You’re rad. Thank you.”

“For real, man. This was really cool of you,” Vic said.

“Yeah, huge thanks,” Matt nodded.

“What they said, I guess,” Y/N laughed again, following Jesse’s lead of downing her water bottle before going for her beer. “Fuck,” she sighed. “That’s good. Thank you, really.”

“Happy to do it,” I answered. “That set was amazing, by the way. And that joke at the end was pretty clever. How long were you planning that?”

She giggled. “Uh, well Jesse and I are much more the 5sos fans than Matt and Vic are. But we’re all familiar with your music. And when we were writing the song, and settled on the title, I suggested that it would be funny to start playing your version if we ever got the chance to play it live. Which meant bugging Matt to learn the guitar parts.”

“So you’re the troublemaker of the band?” I guessed.

She shrugged, and hid behind the rim of her cup. “I mean… Depends on the day.”

We continued to lay in the grass, making small talk as we all finished our beers, before Jesse cleared his throat. “Uh… Matt, Vic. You guys wanna come with me to get a good spot for the rest of the acts?” he asked, the suggestion in his tone heavy.

Matt and Vic shared a look, before nodding. “Yeah, yeah of course,” they said, all three of them getting up.

“You assholes are just gonna leave me?” Y/N asked, looking up at them.

“Just come find us when you’re ready,” they winked. “Thanks again for the beers, Cal.”

“Assholes,” she muttered again as they all made themselves scarce. “Sorry about them.”

I laughed, waving it off. “Nah, it’s cool. And kinda nice, maybe?”

“Oh?” she asked, her eyes wide. “Uh…” her face flushed. “I mean…” she started to stammer. “Yeah. Yeah.”

I gave a half chuckle, scratching at the back of my neck. “Look, it’s fine if you’re not… I mean, I figure you probably are if they did that for you, cuz they have no reason to do it for my sake. I mean, they’re your friends and bandmates, not mine. But I know a wing man set up when I see it. But if it’s more of a meddling wing man set up, like that’s fine,” I spilled out, before realizing I was rambling.

“No!” she rushed. “Oh, no, that’s not what I meant at all!” She covered her face in her hands, groaning “Oh, this is so embarrassing…” Her hands moved to push through her hair as she took a long breath to steady herself. “Of course I like you, Cal. Like before I even met you. One of those embarrassing fangirl crush type of deals. And I mean, I’m a bassist in a punk band, so you’re also someone I idolize and take inspiration from.” Slowly her gaze lifted from her lap to lock onto mine. “And then I met you today. And  you’re everything I thought you’d be. Thoughtful. Generous. A bit shy, and quiet at times. Nice. And it makes the crush that much stronger, and harder to deal with. Cuz now it’s real. And I feel like I know you. And it’s just… Ugh, it spirals from there, ya know?”

“A good spiral, or a bad spiral?”

“Bit of both? Like the insecurities in me say that you’re an A-list celebrity, while I’m more of like… not an A-lister. My band’s not on the same level yours is. I mean, we play bars and small day festivals. You sell out stadiums and have world tours. There’s a clear discrepancy. But then, another part of me doesn’t give a shit about that. It sees how we’re like-minded. It sees all the ways we click, and all the ways we could work. And that’s where the cocky part comes in, where it sees the like-mindedness and the reasons we could work, and calls you an idiot if you can’t see it too. That, uh, screwed up defense mechanism of it being your loss, ya know?”

“Mhm.”

She sighed. “Sorry. I said a lot. Point is, I do like you. And, that’s that.”

“So the ball’s in my court?”

“Only if you want it to be. And if you don’t, then no. There’s no ball. No court. Just two people who have a few things in common.”

“You wanna hear what I think?”

“Go for it.”

“I think your friends left us for 2 reasons. 1 being that they’re loyal to you, and know how you feel about me. 2 being that they’re also guys. Which gives them a pretty good insight for how I’m feeling too.”

“Uh-huh…” she nodded slowly. “And how you’re feeling is…?”

I could have said the words. But I settled for leaning in, brushing my lips softly against hers for the sweetest of moments, listening to the way her next breath got stuck in her throat. I pulled away, smiling softly at her and shrugging my shoulders.

She traced her lips with her thumb, bewilderment written on her face. “Okay, you really didn’t have to do that.”

“Relax,” I chuckled, stealing her words from earlier. “It’s just a kiss.”

“Well, thanks. I’ll, uh, getcha next time.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

__

Tag List

@aquarius-hood1996 @creator-appreciator @philthepegacorn @myfavfanficsever @cxddlyash @youngblood199456 @stormrider505 @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @hoodhoran @metalandboybands @maybeememez @1weekago @centerlino @binxiboo​

[bakugosbratx]

Request: Hi! I was wondering if you could write a story when y/n is the crazy one and kidnaps Bakugo. Tysm ! -meena

Warnings: NSFW 18+ Content. Yandere, stalking, kidnapping, cursing, mental illness, blood, abuse, drugs, etc.

Check out my other works here

A/N: Hmm this is a different turn of events. I love it 👀 I hope you enjoyed anon! I went a little wild with this one.

Words: 2.2k

Tags: @awilddreamerwrites @peachsenpie @miriobaby @lanarist @sickchildren @bakugousbrat @ssplague @ahbeautifulexistence @m779 @vinny-likes-to-play21

“Dear Katsuki,

I watched you save a civilian on television today. I know it’s your job and all, but you did not have to save her. Her life is not as important as mine. Do you not cherish what we have? Am I just a nobody to you? This is my 103rd letter to you and still no response. I know your address did not change so do not give me that pathetic excuse, Katsuki Bakugo. Surely, you must remember we are soulmates. We are one. How dare you fucking forget me? I had to rip all of my posters down in a fit of rage. You know how angry that makes me, baby, but it will all be okay, because you are coming home to me. We will be one.

Sincerely,

Yours.”

You burst into a fit of giggles as you kick your bare feet back and forth on his bed. You wrote in black ink and covered the paper in orange hearts since it is the pro-hero’s favorite color. You could not help but leave precious lipstick kisses on the page. Something you always do in your love letters to Katsuki. The posters in your house are covered in them. Katsuki’s beautiful face is just so kissable. You cannot wait to do it tonight.

All you can think about is Katsuki. That is all your day consists of. Your clothing is all his merchandise and his favorite colors. You spend hours upon hours watching interviews, videos, surveillance footage of the hero. When he is out on patrol, you do your best to hide in areas so you can see the hero up close and personal. Your face just beams with joy at the mere glance of him.

You did your best to meet him several times. Any disaster there was to be had, you put on your nicest attire, do your make-up just how you think he likes, and have your hair freshly done. No better way to greet your significant other after hero work than looking like a beauty pageant queen.

Sadly, all your attempts were failures. Katsuki did not even give you the time of day. He is way too focused on beating the villains to a pulp. You did admire this about him, but your own selfish desires created hatred in you. He should be paying attention to you. Not those pesky villains.

Katsuki is sure to receive forty-five letters addressing the issue. All that he will never even skim over. This is only adding fuel to the fire.

The posters that hang in every single room in your apartment are ripped to shreds. Pools of tears covered your orbs, smudging all of your makeup. You climbed onto your black sofa, taking your left high heel and breaking the glass photo of Katsuki hanging there. Shards of glass sprinkle the couch and hardwood floor below. You don't even care for the pieces that collected into your skin. You will worry about that later.

“Fuck you, Katsuki!” You sobbed, ripping his face with your teeth and spitting out the saliva covered photo onto the litter filled floor.

“Pro-Hero Great Explosion Murder God Dynamite saves another civilians life yet again, taking down another member of the league of villains who was terrorizing the victim.”

The news anchor’s words fell on deaf ears as you went to the television screen. You are captivated by your significant other’s beauty on the tv. Blood leaked from your freshly manicured hands. They are painted orange and black as always.

“Oh, Katsuki,” you sighed with a smile, tracing a heart around his face with your leaking blood, “we will be together soon. I promise, baby. I’ll take you away from this sick, cruel world so we can live happily ever after.”

You were serious that day. You planned it on your calendar. The countdown began on the night you are going to be one with Katsuki. A day you knew you both looked forward to.

“Dear Katsuki,

Did you miss me? I know I missed you. I even stamped this letter in my blood so you can have my DNA to mix with yours. I can’t wait to procreate with you. We will make such wonderful babies, don’t ya think? They will be so beautiful like you. I will be such an excellent mother. No woman can be a great wife to you like I can. Do you understand me?”

You had to pause writing as your blood started to boil at the thought. Your pen is already creating a huge ink spot from the anger consuming your hands. Small growls escaped your parted lips as you began to growl.

“If I can’t have you, no one can, Katsuki Bakugo. I am your one true love. You're one and only. And I’ll make sure that day comes. Just a few more days, baby, and we will be one.

Sincerely,

Yours.”

The day finally came. You knew Katsuki’s schedule by heart. You loved watching him do his morning routines with the security cameras you placed in his home. The poor male never even thought to check. Such a mistake on his part. It only confirmed he needed protection from the world. Only you can provide that. Sure, you may be quirkless, but no one knows Katsuki like you do. No one can love him like you. He knows this. He has to.

You drew a luke-warm bubble bath with nice lit candles, rose pedals, a few drops of your blood, and some freshly made desserts for you both to enjoy while you catch up. You are even so kind enough to fetch him a beer or two so he can relax. You know how he enjoys his alcoholic beverages after a long day of hero work.

You rested on his bed. The natural caramel scent engulfed your nostrils as you wrote letters into your notebook once more. Even when you two are officially together forever, you still love to write out your thoughts. You know he enjoys them as well.

Hours upon hours passed. Frustration arose overtime. You did not want to be angry with your spouse, but he knows better than to be home late on your special day. You have almost filled up your notepad with phrases upon phrases of ‘I love you’s’ and sweet nothings. Along with other things.

You tapped your bandages covered foot on the ground as you began to pace. “What is taking him so long?” You huffed aloud, growing more impatient by each passing second. The bath is beginning to become cold and that is just rude in your opinion. You decided to write out your emotions.

“Dear Katsuki,

What the fuck is taking you so long, huh? It’s so fucking aggervating and just plain rude. I have done so much for you only to toss me to the side like I’m nothing. Are you cheating on me? I do not tolerate disrespect, Katsuki Bakugo. You are going to make me mean and you know I hate being mean to you. You just make me jealous, baby. You know how you do that to me. Make me feel all types of emotion I can’t seem to understand, but one thing is for certain is that you and I will be together.

Sincerely,”

You did not even get to finish your final entry as you hear the front door downstairs unlock. Scrambling to put the diary away, you gather the necessary items from under the bed and wait for the perfect moment to strike. Katsuki’s natural loud ways was helping you locate his every move without even having to look at security footage.

All you have to do is be patient.

Katsuki sat on the couch, propping his sock-covered feet onto the glass coffee table and turning on the television. You allowed him some moments to get settled before gently tip-toeing down the stairs, rope, duct tape, and a blunt object ready in hand.

Just as Katsuki turned to acknowledge your presence, the crowbar hit his head, knocking him unconscious. You quickly attend to his wound — not without dropping some droplets of blood into his — so it does not get offended. You cannot have your husband getting an infection.

You tie up his hands and legs, duct tape his mouth after delivering kisses to his perfectly plump lips, and drag him to the kitchen. You did not realize how much your lover really weighed. Too much time was wasted dragging him to the fridge than preferred, but it will all be worth it in the end. You know it will be.

Katsuki did not wake up until the next day. You stayed by his side the whole time, telling him about your day and how much you have planned for you two. Of course, he needs to build his trust with you. You love a very intelligent man and the last thing you need is for him to be against you.

Slowly opening his crimson eyes, his attention is brought to a grinning you. Katsuki immediately attempts to escape the captivity he is in, but it is no use. You just had to buy special rope that cancels quirks.

“Struggle all you want, Katsuki-poo. There is no escaping me.” You chuckled, loving the way he squirmed and furrowed his eyebrows at you. All of his curses are mumbled by the tape which is probably the best considering you did not want to be insulted right now.

“When you calm down, I’ll take off the tape.” You bargained, shrugging nonchalantly as you kneel in front of the man. Did this calm him down? No. You know it wouldn’t regardless. You know Katsuki better than he knows himself yet you already want to push his buttons. The way he gets so angry turns you on and you can’t just help yourself but want more.

After a couple of hours of Katsuki complaining and you writing even more in your diary, he decided to calm down. This made you happy. You wanted to hear his beautiful gruff voice.

Grabbing the corner of the tape, you rip it off. Katsuki is already barking insults. “Are you fucking insane? Who the hell even are you? This isn’t going to end well with you, you psycho bit—“

A hard slap to his face interrupted Katsuki’s spill. Along with the duct tape you placed back on his mouth. “Such a meanie,” you pout, “and here I was about to be so nice to you.”

This cycle repeated itself for three days. You never left his side once. How could you? He is obviously in distress. He needs you by his side. He cannot do anything without you. Especially with his hands tied behind his muscular back. Katsuki finally decided that playing the game is the only way to win it.

You ripped the tape off once again. Katsuki did not even speak this time. “Did you learn your lesson?” You quizzed with an arched brow. “Y’know being a meanie is not going to get you anywhere, Katsukikins.”

“Why are you doing this?” Katsuki inquired, his gruff voice sounding so weak and hollow. You almost felt bad.

“You’re so silly, Suki. C’mon,” you brought your lips close to his, “gimme a kiss.”

Reluctantly, Katsuki did as instructed. Considering you are straddling his lap and his powers are useless, he has no choice in the matter. You loved the compliance.

“Good boy.” You praised, ruffling his messy blonde hair. Katsuki glared at you. “Will you be good and eat some food for me?”

“I don’t want your stupid ass food.” Katsuki growled, laying his head against the bottom freezer of his fridge.

“Nonsense, Suki.” You giggled, feeling extremely joyful to be with Katsuki. You bring a spoon of Miso soup up to his closed lips, “have some. I blew on it so it’s not too hot.”

“Get that trash away from me, you idiot—“ Katsuki was interrupted by a spoon entering his mouth. Though he would hate to admit this, the soup tasted delicious and he is quite hungry. He put up a fight, but allowed you to feed him properly until every drop was gone. Unfortunately, Katsuki is unaware that the soup is drugged until it’s too late.

His body began to feel numb. He did not even have the strength to ask questions as his eyes became drowsy. Soon, he is slumped over, sound asleep as you manage to drag him up the stairs and into your shared bed.

Planting kisses all over structures, you tuck him in and finish some late night entries in your diary. Skimming through them all and reflecting on how you got here now, it made you smile. Progress has been made and will continue to do so.

Signing off on the final page, you write:

“Dear Katsuki,

These past three days have been exhilarating. I see it in your terrified eyes how happy you are that I am here. I know how much you missed me. I missed you, too, baby. We will continue to grow and soon, we will have children. I even have my menstrual cycle all planned out. I am all yours and you’re all mine. Can’t you see, baby doll? We are forever meant to be.

Sincerely,

Yours.”

©bakugosbratx

All Rights Reserved

[reidingmelodies]

Sugar Rush

Summary:  Who knew finding the perfect wedding day dessert was so much work? Pairing: Spencer Reid x gn!Reader Category: Fluff Includes: Food consumption, light kissing Word Count: 2.4K

“Did you know the first wedding cake was most likely served in Ancient Greece?” Spencer began, looking down to where you were laying with your head snuggled against his chest.  You hummed in interest, moving your hand to meet his where it rested on his lower stomach, intertwining your fingers together.  Spencer smiled at the gesture before continuing his spiel, “But one of the earliest mentions of wedding cake originates from Ancient Rome where the cake was actually broken over the bride’s head in the hopes of bringing them good fortune in their life together”.

Your brows furrowed at that, and Spencer couldn’t help but laugh at your reaction.  “Well, we certainly won’t be doing that at our wedding,” you giggled, giving his hand a light squeeze.  

Flipping your hands over, he brought your hand to his line of sight and admired the engagement ring resting on your ring finger.  “Do you want to smash cake in my face after we cut it?”

You thought for a second before shaking your head.  “I don’t think so- unless that’s something you want to do?  I don’t even get why that’s a thing in the first place, it seems kind of gross”.

Spencer sighed in relief, beyond grateful that wasn’t something you wanted to do.  He loved you, and he was more than happy to exchange germs with you in other ways- but throwing cake at each other definitely wasn’t his style.  “I’m glad you don’t because I feel the same way.  Cutting the wedding cake is traditionally seen as a symbol of a couple’s commitment to each other, and I don’t want to ruin that by throwing cake in your face”.

You smiled, rolling over slightly until your stomach laid against his and propping your head up to look down at him.  Spencer hummed in approval at the new position, moving his hand from yours and resting it on your lower waist.  “Plus,” you added, “we’re paying way too much for the cake to waste a single drop of it”.

Spencer laughed in agreement, pushing himself up lightly to give you a soft kiss on your lips.  “So no cake smash- there’s one part of the great cake debate settled”.  You groaned at his words, dropping your head and burrowing your face in the space between his shoulder and neck.

“I don’t understand why there’s so many cake flavors to choose from!  Honestly, do we even need a cake?” you groaned, voice coming out as no more than a mumble against your fiancé’s neck.  Spencer rubbed your back soothingly, before humming in acknowledgement.

“We’ll figure it out, babe,” he reassured you, giving your forehead a quick kiss.  “On the bright side, regardless of whether we pick one or not we’ll get to try at least twenty different types of cakes for lunch tomorrow”.

“I’m still not sure if that’s a good thing or not,” you laughed, pushing your upper half up to once again look at his face.  “But as long as you’re with me I’m sure it won’t be too bad,” you finished, leaning down to lay a sweet kiss on his lips.

“What a sap,” Spencer jokingly mumbled against your lips, causing you to pull away and playfully roll your eyes at him.

“A sap you decided to spend the rest of your life with,” you countered with a smirk, eyes softening in admiration at the grin that spread across Spencer’s face with your words.

“Best decision I ever made,” Spencer claimed softly, sealing his declaration with a concession of kisses against your lips.

You smiled, threading your fingers through his hair and continuing what you started- leaving the discussion of cakes and all things wedding behind, choosing instead to spend the night entangled with your fiancé, trading kisses and whispered declarations of love well into the evening.    

***

The next morning, you sat in the kitchen nursing your cup of coffee while Spencer took a shower before you headed to the bakery.  It had been six months of engagement bliss for you and Spencer, and you both found yourself on an impenetrable high for the first three months with no qualms.  As far as the two of you were concerned, you were irrevocably in love with each other, full stop.  You didn’t know when you wanted to get married, or where, but you knew that you wanted him by your side for the rest of your personal slice of eternity.  

Eventually, that answer stopped being met with aw’s from your friends, and instead had been met with playful eyerolls followed by logistical questions regarding the wedding.  It became apparent pretty quickly that there wasn’t a where or when anywhere in your plan, but the who, what, and why were pretty clear.  And when it came to wedding planning, the last three took the back burner.  Who would have thought?

Weekends cuddled up with your fiancé turned into Friday nights spent researching, Saturday afternoons filled with venue tours, and Sunday mornings comparing notes (and somehow, that was always the part that lasted the longest when it came to you and Spencer).  

Once the venue was secured, you both became invested in the rest of the details that made your special day unique to the two of you, settling on a lilac color scheme and Save the Dates in the form of bookmarks.  Everything settled into place pretty quickly after that, except for the dreaded cake.

There was just too much to it.  Between the design, number of layers, and flavors there statistically wasn’t a high probability of pleasing all of your guests much to Spencer’s dismay.  And as much as everyone said that the most important thing was that you and Spencer were happy with the cake, the two of you were more than happy with each other, and that’s all you really cared about.

“Ready, Y/N?” Spencer broke you from your train of thought and drew your attention towards him.  He smiled, holding a travel mug of coffee in one hand and your car keys in the other, motioning towards the door with his head.  

You nodded, taking the keys and heading towards the door with the love of your life in tow, internally cursing yourself for stressing out half as much as you have about a silly cake.

***

Two hours later, and one thing was for sure- you were right to be stressed.   The owner of the bakery was one of the sweetest women you’ve ever met (the title of sweetest belonged to Penelope Garcia, hands down), but as welcoming and supportive as she was you still felt like a fish out of water.

You and Spencer were ushered into a room with exactly twenty-three cake samples laid out on tables, accompanied by open portfolios and photos of some of the bakery’s most renowned creations.  In the time since your arrival you’ve tasted flavors ranging from lemon raspberry to mocha chocolate and you were exhausted.  

You couldn’t help but feel like the universe was punishing you and Spencer for joking around the previous night about how great it would be to eat cake for lunch.  You leaned over to tell Spencer just as much, and the exhaustion was almost worth it when you saw his smile illuminate the entirety of his face.  

“What happened to ‘as long as you’re with me I’m sure it won’t be too bad’?” he jokingly questioned, booping your nose and giving you a quick kiss on the cheek when he saw the joking glare beginning to form on your face.

“Changed my mind when you called me a sap,” you retorted with a smirk followed by a quick squeeze of his hand so he knew you weren’t serious.  Your comment made him laugh, and soon enough you were both in a fit of giggles surrounded by mountains of cake and half looked through portfolios.   

As your laughter died down the reality of the situation you were in began to set it.  You loved all of the cake you tried, but everything about what you were doing just didn’t feel right.  The more you envisioned your cake, the cloudier the picture became.  All you knew was that you wanted something that screamed you and Spence, but none of the flavors you tried did that.  You sighed, and Spencer immediately perked up, forever in tune to you and your needs.  

“What’s going on up there, love?” Spencer tapped the side of your head lightly with his pointer finger, causing the right side of your lip to slightly curl up.

“If I ask you something will you be honest?” you asked, putting your hand on top of his.  

Spencer immediately nodded, grasping his fingers with yours and bringing your hand to his lips.  “Always”.

“Do you picture any of these cakes at our wedding?”  You questioned, bringing the closest portfolio towards you with your free hand and flipping through the first few pages.  “They’re all so pretty, but I just don’t think they’re us, ya know?” 

It was quiet for a beat longer than you expected, and for a second you were nervous you had somehow offended Spencer.  But when you looked up and met his eyes, all you found was his understanding gaze looking back at you.

“I completely get what you mean,” he began, squeezing your hand before continuing his thought, “but Y/N.. do you really think that we’ll ever find a dessert that’s more us than donuts?”

You knew right away that he was joking, but you also couldn’t help but smile at the flood of memories that overtook you once he said it.

As Penelope liked to call your relationship, “the greatest love story of this generation” began just a block south of the bakery you were at over chocolate sprinkled donuts and coffee.  It was a Tuesday morning, and you were running a few minutes late in your morning routine.  You usually got to the cafe around 8:15, just before the majority of the 9-5 workforce showed up for their morning coffee fix.  

That day though, you had missed your usual metro and walked in the door of the café at 8:27 AM.  It was overly crowded, and you were already dreading waiting in the overpopulated line for your coffee, but as luck would have it Dr. Spencer Reid had picked that exact morning to treat the BAU to coffee and donuts. 

He had walked in the door behind you, smiling in recognition at the book he saw peeking out of your bag.  Before he could stop himself, he tapped you on your shoulder, reciting a fact about the author of the book.  Almost immediately, his face dropped, worried that you were going to tell him off for being nosy.

To his relief though, you smiled and asked him for his opinion on the book- before you knew it, you both made it to the front of the line, and you found yourself longing for more time with the stranger who seemed to know an infinite amount of fun facts.  

As you both waited for your coffee and donuts, you took a leap of faith and asked Spencer if he’d want to meet up for breakfast the next morning.  To your delight he agreed, and the rest was history.  After three months of sporadic breakfast dates whenever Spencer wasn’t away on a case (mainly consisting of you trying all of the donuts on the café menu and Spencer sticking to chocolate frosted with sprinkles), he took his own leap of faith and asked you out on a date beyond the comforting walls of the café.

As far as you were concerned, donuts were a fundamental part of your love story, and Spencer was a genius.

You smiled at the memory, turning to Spencer and giving him a quick kiss on the lips.  He gave you a lovesick grin in response- “what was that for?”

“Have I ever told you you’re the smartest man I know?”

Immediately, Spencer nodded.  “Just last week when I told you how many books have been published by Penguin Random House.  You also said it the week before when we were talking about polar bears and I-” your laugh caused him to lose focus, all of his attention instead focused on the way your smile lit up your whole face.

“Okay, okay so I call you a genius a lot- sue me,” you countered, giggling with every word that came out of your mouth.  “I think you’re onto something with donuts though”.

“Wait, really?  I was just kidding,” the confusion was obvious on Spencer’s face, but it was laced with excitement as well and you knew right then and there that he was as hooked on the idea as you were.

“I know you were, but that doesn’t make it any less genius!  It’s just so us.  And not only that, but think of all the different flavors we can get!  That way everyone has a choice over what dessert they have and we don’t need to stress over finding one most people will like.  Oh my gosh babe, and Penelope can definitely help us think of a cute way to set them up!  Maybe we can do a cake stand or put them out in a buffet style?”  You made eye contact with Spencer, eyes widening as you realized you haven’t even asked for his opinion yet.  Softly, you brought your ramble to a close, doubt slowly kicking in, “Unless you don’t think it’s a good idea?”   

Smiling, Spencer stood from his chair and motioned for you to do the same.  Considering the fact that you would do anything he asked you to, you followed suit and he pulled you into his side, planting a kiss to the top of your head.  “I think you’re the real genius in this relationship, Y/N”.  You giggled at that, and Spencer continued, “it’s an amazing idea.  And you and I both know Penelope is gonna love that you thought of her to help us put it together.  How about we go to the café and see if they’d be able to help us out, hm?  Maybe grab some donuts while we’re there too?”

You nodded enthusiastically, before grimacing at the idea of having another sweet, “We’re gonna have a sugar rush for the next week, Spence”.

“Every day with you is a sugar rush, Y/N,” he quipped, trying to hold back his laughter at the disbelieving look on your face.      

You chuckled, leaning in for one of many sugary sweet kisses awaiting you that afternoon before playfully retorting, “And you have the audacity to call me the sap in this relationship.”

***

Link to join my taglist ♡

Tagging: @calm-and-doctor​

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Hue and Cry IV

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; abuse of power, threats, chase, unwanted touching, mild violence.

This is dark!medieval!Bucky Barnes x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: You’re forgiven but only by the sins of another.

Note: Yesterday went pretty good! I have a longer day today but I will likely have my Second Anniversary Writing Challenge up on or before Thursday for all of you guys! I can’t wait and for now, I got number 4 done.

Thanks to everyone and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Another servant brought Lord Barnes’ first meal. You watched from the corner, huddled under the wool blanket. He had her place a bowl of porridge before you but there was no generosity in the gesture. He only sustained you for his own means. You gulped from the rim and the oats piled in your stomach heavily.

He didn’t say a word to you as he ate. He strapped on his arm and grunted as he tightened each strap. You helped him dress after he shot you a dark look and he stopped you as you made to take a step back. You were still naked and prone to his will.

“I didn’t want it to be like this,” he said, “you understand? It doesn’t have to-- you frustrate me and it makes me cruel. You should do without me asking.”

“My lord,” you watched his hand grip your wrist tighter. He yanked you closer.

“You are not responsible for my meals anymore or tidying. Any woman with a speck of wit can do that. You…” he turned and thrust you towards the bed, “see to this, see to me, that I am happy and I will make you happy.”

You stared at the mattress. Your lips parted and you were sure you uttered “yes, my lord,” but it felt more like a cough.

He huffed and nudged you closer to the bed, “sleep, I am certain the floor allowed for little of that. Upon my return, you might seek my forgiveness… and perhaps to begin in your new duties.”

You turned and sat on the edge. He looked down at you and pulled his gloves on. He scrunched his lips and tilted his head as he thought, seemingly having a conversation with himself.

“And you will not look at me like that,” he said as he strode away and grabbed his cape from the atop the chest where he’d laid it out, “I am not a monster.”

He was gone and you were lost. You knew there was a guard outside that door, you knew the castle was crawling with them. You had nowhere to go and nothing to do but what he said. So you buried your head and tried to forget all that, if only for a moment.

🏰

You woke to pain. You lived the last day in pain but a spark in your thigh awoke you. You groaned and pushed the pillow away and looked down at the hand that crawled along the welts on your legs. As the palm brushed over the curve of your ass, your eyes found his face and you squeaked.

It hurt to move but you rolled away and sat up, hugging the pillow as you faced Lord Rogers. His blue eyes glimmered as he smiled at you.

“What-- my lord, where is Lord Barnes?” you gasped.

“He is withheld in the stables,” Rogers pulled his knees up on the bed and crawled over to grab your ankle, “I did seek to ask after you and your condition. His rage does make him cruel.”

“Don’t,” you pushed on his hand as it tugged on your leg, “he will not be happy if you proceed, my lord.”

“Don’t? You are bold for a servant,” he took your other ankle and yanked you hard so you fell onto your back. You dropped the pillow and swatted at him as he tried to wrench your legs apart, “he owes me, he cannot be mad at me claiming my debt--”

“No,” you wriggled and twisted around onto your stomach, your legs tangled strangely as you grasped the edge of the bed. You slipped one leg free and kicked out, your toes jabbed his chest harshly and he released your other ankle. You tumbled onto the floor and cried out as you jarred your wrist.

You heard him coming around the bed and you got to your feet unsteadily, holding the square end table for support. You were so stunned after the rude awakening you could hardly think. It felt like a nightmare, like you were still asleep and trapped in your fears.

You grabbed the heavy brass candlestick and swung out at Rogers as he came near. He dodged and chuckled darkly.

“Ay,” he bent his arm to deflect your second strike, “you don’t want to do that, sweetness.”

“Please, no,” you begged, “Lord Barnes, he said-- he would hurt me more--”

“He doesn’t need to know,” Rogers smirked and you lashed out at him again and caught his forearm. He backed up and held where you’d struck, “My word, you are a little bitch.”

“Stop, don’t come closer,” you stumbled against the wall and pressed your back to it as you sidled away, “please.”

“I just want a little taste,” he hummed, “Barnes won’t know--”

You hit him again and he swore as he gripped his shoulder. You clung to the candlestick and dashed for the door. You unlatched it and ripped it open, only to stagger back at the figure waiting for you on the other side. Lord Barnes stood with his hand still in position to grab the long handle and his brows drew together in displeasure.

“And where--” he began as he entered and his voice died as he sighted the other lord holding his shoulder, only a few inches behind you as he haled mid-chase, “Steve,” Barnes said evenly and eyed him then the candlestick in your hand. He reached down and freed it from your hold, “go,” he nudged your shoulder and pointed you to the corner.

You cowered as you passed Lord Rogers and did as Barnes bid. You stood in the corner and shivered as he gestured for the other lord to follow him into the corridor. The door closed violently behind them and you pressed yourself to the chilled stones.

“Now I know why my guard has strayed,” Barnes' voice carried through the wood, “did I not promise you a reward in due time?”

“I was only playing with her,” Rogers argued.

“She should have knocked you in the head with this,” Barnes hissed, “I should break my promise now, truly it would be your dissolution on the matter for your impatience.”

“She needs a good slap, she is far to brazen,” Steve sneered, “she struck me, twice.”

“Good,” Barnes said, “she knew better than you.”

There was silence and then a long sigh.

“Go, I haven’t the energy for this and our travels on the morrow,” Barnes huffed.

“Buck,” Rogers said softly.

“If it does not happen again, I will let it be,” Barnes muttered, “I am tired.”

The door opened and footsteps faded down the corridor. Barnes entered and tossed the candlestick so it clattered to the floor. You flinched and watched as he struggled to unclasp his cape with one hand. You saw the line between his brows as he grew frustrated. You went to him meekly and hesitantly reached for the buckle. He dropped his arm and let you free the cape.

He nodded and you slung it from the silver hook mounted upon the side of the great wooden wardrobe. You sensed him watching you and turned back to face him. You folded your hand, uncertain, and swayed slightly.

“He should not have done that,” Barnes, said, “you were right to fend him off.”

“My lord,” you replied diligently.

He let out another long breath and walked around the bed. He sat at the foot and watched you dwindle beneath the heat of his gaze. “Understand that you belong to me, first and foremost. You are mine. You do not raise your hand or your voice to me and you do only as I bid.”

“Yes, my lord,” you said.

He lowered his hand and undid his belt. He let it fall loose and unbuttoned the front of his dark vest. “Help me. I’ve already sent for hot water.”

You helped him as you did before. The layers stripped away around the weight of his metal arm. He was not shy of his nudity but he kept you from removing his arm, he did that himself and kept his scars in the shadows as best he could. He fell back, his legs bent over the bed and sniffed.

“Cover yourself in a nightshirt and let the servants in to draw the bath,” he ordered.

You pulled on one of his nightshirts and when the knock came you did as he bid. Servants carried in a large metal tub and a procession of steaming pots filled it with hot water. When it was full, you closed the door and resumed your place in the corner.

Barnes rose and went to the tub. He lowered himself into the water and his blue eyes lingered on you. His broad shoulders pressed against the beaten metal and his single arm stretched around the rim.

“Come here,” he said.

You went to him and stopped beside the tub. His eyes slipped to the nightshirt and his lips curved slightly.

“Take that off, get in,” he nodded to the tub.

You bit down and lifted the hem of the shirt. You put it aside and neared the tub again. You gripped the rim and stepped over the side. Barnes sat up slightly as you drew your second foot in and he directed you with one arm. You turned your back to him as he urged you down against him until your back was against his firm torso.

He purred and his hand fell to your stomach. He traced a trail up to your breasts and fondled them one at a time. You felt a twitch against you and he pushed his hand back down. His fingers crept up and down your body as he explored your flesh with little hums.

“Were you afraid?” he asked, “when Rogers appeared?”

You watched his hand and resisted the want to push him away. Despite the steaming water, you felt cold and distant, almost as if your body wasn’t bound to your mind.

“Yes,” you said, “yes, my lord. He woke me and I didn’t know what to do.”

“You did the right thing,” his lips brushed the top of your head, “you kept yourself for me.”

You held your breath. You hadn’t truly been thinking about him, about what he desired, you were only terrified and desperate, like that night he’d tried to have you. You trembled and let out the air as it began to burn your lungs. Your skin buzzed as it all sank in; you were naked, more so he was naked too, and you were laying there against him.

“My lord,” you eked out as his hand slipped lower and rested over your most intimate part.

He stayed like that for a time. You felt his heartbeat against you as he basked in the warmth of the water and your body. His hand would move back up and he’d hug you to him but then it would hover again along your vee and sometimes his fingers would caress your thigh.

“Are you truly sorry?”

“My lord?” you blinked as your daze was cracked.

“Are you sorry that you ran from me?”

You heard how brittle his voice was and felt the tension in his body. You touched his hand as it rested on your stomach.

“I am truly sorry, my lord,” you almost believed yourself, “I am only a foolish girl and my ignorance did scare me, not-- not you, my lord.”

He nuzzled your head and slid his hand away and twined his fingers between your. You felt his member prodding you from beneath and that scared you. You felt every bit of him against you; his raw strength and his pulsing desire. You closed your eyes and braced for what came next.

“We must begin for the capital tomorrow,” he said and your lashes fluttered in surprise, “that means we must rest. You may sleep in the bed beside me,” he squeezed your hand and moved it over chest, “would you like that?”

You thought of the cold stone and the ache in your bones, the way even now your bottom and legs seared from the welt across them. You pictured the long trek to the royal castle and the onslaught of autumn. It all fell over you like a suffocating shroud.

“Yes, my lord, I would like that,” you said.

He was quiet for a little longer as he held you against him. He groaned and shifted beneath you, “I only did what I had to,” he turned your hand over and traced the lines of your palm with his thumb, “I never wanted to hurt you.”

You swallowed through your spite as your fear urged you to caution, “I know, my lord,” another painful lie lodged in your throat, “I… wronged you and I am sorry for it.”

[avengerscompound]

Moving On - Chapter 1

Moving On: A Falcon & Captain Marvel Fanfic

Masterlist

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Sam Wilson x F!Reader, Carol Danvers x F! Reader

Word Count:  1764

Rating:  E

Warnings:  None for the chapter, Smut, pregnancy, character death, grief, angst, on series.

Synopsis:�� You thought Sam Wilson was the love of your life.  You had planned to do it all with him - marriage, kids, see the world.  Even when you’re life gets turned upside down, and you both end up international fugitives, he’s there by your side.

Then Thanos comes.

When Sam is one of the many turned to dust, leaving you alone and pregnant, you don’t think you’ll ever stop grieving.  Yet, everyone tells you that Sam would want you to move on and live your life - that he’d want you to be happy. Gradually you open your heart up to another.  Carol Danvers has lost people too.  First her daughter, then her wife.  As the two of you lean on each other, feelings grow and you move on together.

So what happens when Sam is returned to you?

A/N: Still working out how I plan to end this, so be aware it could go down a polyamory path or it could go down in a ball fire with much wailing and screaming and beating your fists against the wall. 

IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE TAGGED IN THIS LET ME KNOW OR ADD YOURSELF TO THE TAGLIST

Chapter 1: Sam

You met Sam Wilson on a Tuesday morning.  You’d seen him around and obviously knew who he was, but you had assumed, much like with the other Avengers, you weren’t really on their radar.

You liked to refer to yourself as a redshirt.  The cannon fodder that ran into battle after the supers and if they got themselves killed, no big deal, there were plenty more of you, and besides did any of you even have names?

You’d been projecting.

The Avengers were good guys for a reason, and on the day you met Sam you’d realized that it wasn’t just a need to save the world.  They actually cared about the people living in it.

He’d greeted you by name and told you that you’d been doing great work with the team.  He’d asked you how you were handling things and if you needed anything or had any suggestions for keeping up morale and when you answered, he’d listened.  Really listened and not just nodded and placated you before ignoring everything you had to say.  In fact, a few of your suggestions were even implemented a few weeks later.

It was a Thursday afternoon when he began talking to you as a friend.  A small group of you and the other redshirts had gone to a bar near the compound.  He and some of the Avengers were there drawing the attention of the locals.  Sam approached you at the bar when you went to buy a round for your friends.

“Can I get this for you?”  Sam asked as you waited for the bartender to finish serving someone else.

“Trying to lower my inhibitions?”  You asked, raising your eyebrow at him.

He laughed and shook his head.  “It’s smart to be wary.  What about some mozzarella sticks?  No one feels like having sex after they’re full of cheese.”

You laughed hard and you knew then it didn’t matter what happened tonight, Sam Wilson was someone you wanted to get to know intimately.

He’d ended up paying for the round for your friends and leaving you to get back to them.  Your friends had all called you crazy and told you to go back to him.  You didn’t.  Not right away.  You didn’t approach him again until people had started calling it a night.

“Hey,” you said, as you reached his table.

He kicked out the chair beside him.  “Hey, yourself,” he said.

You sat down and he bought you a basket of mozzarella sticks and you bought him a beer and the two of you sat and talked until the bar kicked you out.

You had been dating ever since.  You were well and truly head over heels in love.  While you couldn’t claim that the two of you were inseparable - Avenging and spy work meant that there would be long periods where you were apart - you were each other’s person.  You trusted him completely and he trusted you, and when you could be together, you made the most of it.  You’d been sharing a room at the compound for over a year and were having all the big talks about marriage and family and all those things people talk about when they’re planning on spending their life together.

So when he took you to the only four and a half star restaurant within an hour of the compound, you had an inkling what was up.

It was located in a big red building that looked a lot like a barn and didn’t exactly raise your hopes for an elegant night out, but inside was decorated in a way that perfectly hit rustic and contemporary.  Something that very few places could pull off.  The hostess seated you at a table by the window that had a crisp white table cloth on it and beautiful linen napkins.

“Wow, Sam,” you teased, as the hostess left you with the menus.  “This is fancy.  I wonder what the occasion is?”

“Hey now!”  Sam laughed.  “Don’t get ahead of yourself.  Maybe I just want to have a nice romantic night out.”

You laughed too and raised an eyebrow at him.  “Of course.  You’ve just never done this before so that makes total sense.”

He stifled a laugh and perused the menu.  “Want to get a bottle of Champagne?”  He asked.

“Why?  Are we celebrating something?”  You teased.

Sam hid his face behind the menu as he broke down into a fit of giggles.  “Will you cut it out?  You’ll make me chicken out.”

“Chicken out from doing what, honey?”  You asked, feigning innocence.  “It looks like they don’t have any champagne anyway.  They only have Prosecco.”

“What?  But they’re French fusion,” Sam yelped, turning to the wine menu.  “What?  This doesn’t make any sense.”

“French/Italian,” you said.  “I guess when it comes to sparkling wines, they pushed into the Italian.  They have a Rose from the Champagne region of France.  Do you want that?  It only comes by the glass though.”

“Let’s get the Prosecco,” Sam said.

Almost as if that decision had summoned her, the waitress appeared at the table and took your drink orders.  She disappeared as quickly as she appeared, and you noticed Sam tap the stop on his jacket where the inside pocket was before going back to the menu.

“Do you know what you’re having?”  Sam asked.

“Mmm… not sure.  What are you thinking?”  You asked.

“So there’s lobster...” Sam said.

“Ohh… you’re really going all out, huh?”

“...but I think if I order that I’d just be getting it because it’s Lobster and not because I want Lobster.  You know what I mean?”

“It does come with seared scallops,” you said with a shrug.

“I might get the New York strip,” Sam said.  “Herb butter is good, but what’s Au Poivre?”

“Pepper sauce,” you answered.

“Oh… yeah I’ll go herb Butter,” he said with a nod.  “I was thinking that sharing a starter might be nice.  They make their own ricotta cheese.  Did you see?”

“I did see,” you smiled.  “We can share, but Sam…”

He looked up at you and smiled.  “Yes, gorgeous girl?”

“I have a question,” you said, digging around in your purse.

“What is it?  Do you need to know where they sourced the milk?”

You bit back a laugh and shook your head.  “No…” you said and got down on one knee.

“No…” Sam gasped.  “No!  No, no, no.”

“Sam Wilson,” you began, pulling out the ring box from your purse and popping it open.

“You little shit!”  Sam said, quickly dropping to his knee in front of you and whipping the ring box from his pocket.

“Will you marry me?”  You both said at the same time.  You both started laughing loudly and you tipped forward slightly and had to grab hold of Sam to steady yourself.  The noise you were making drew the attention of the whole restaurant and people had started watching on both to figure out exactly what was happening and to hear what the answer was.

“Of course, I’ll marry you,” you giggled, leaning in and capturing his lips.  You could feel his smile as he returned the kiss.  His hand went to your neck and he held you in place as his lips moved with yours.

He pulled back and grinned at you.  “I guess I’ll marry you too, ya dork,” he teased.

You laughed and took out the ring and slid it onto his finger.  It was black titanium with a line of red right down the middle and he took a moment to admire it before he slid your engagement ring in place.  You both stood looking at the rings as you sat back at the table and people around clapped for you both.  The ring Sam had given you was white gold with a single round cut diamond in a claw setting.  Curled around the side of the diamond was a silver feather inlaid with black opal.

“I can’t believe you just did that to me,” Sam said as the waitress approached.

“Congratulations,” she said, showing the bottle of Prosecco to both you and Sam.

“Thank you,” you said, nodding to let her know the bottle was fine.  She popped the cork and poured you both a small taste.

“I’ve never seen people propose at the same time,” she said as she waited for you each to try the sparkling wine.  You took a sip and nodded, holding your glass out to be filled.  “It was really cute.  You’re a cute couple.”

“Thanks,” Sam said.  “She is pretty cute, huh?”

She poured your drinks and took your order, and when you were alone again Sam held up his glass to you in a toast.  “To; spending the rest of our crazy-ass lives together.”

You giggled and clinked your glass with his before taking a sip.  “I seriously can’t believe you just did that,” Sam said, looking at his ring.  “You were supposed to let me ask you!”

“Who says?  The patriarchy?”  You joked.

Sam laughed and shook his head.  “Yes, dear,” he teased, putting on the voice of a hard done by television husband.  “It’s the patriarchy.”

��Besides,” you continued.  “If I hadn’t asked - you wouldn’t have that sweet ass ring.”

“It is a really nice ring,” Sam said, looking down at it again.  “How long have you been planning this?  How did you know it was going to be tonight?”

You laughed.  “I didn’t know it would be tonight until you told me to dress up.  I’ve been planning it for a long time.  We’ve been talking about it so much, I just thought it would be funny if we both had rings ready at the same time.”

Sam’s eyes softened and he tilted his head as he looked at you.  His thumb ran over the engagement ring sitting on your finger.  “I love you so goddamn much, you know?”

You lifted his hand to your mouth and kissed it.  “I do.  And I love you at least twice as much as that.”

“Hey now!”  Sam yelped.  “Don’t make me take you over my knee.”

“Promises, promises,” you said.  “So… about this wedding… is it going to be a big one?”

“Oh yeah,” Sam said.  “The biggest.”

You laughed a little picturing a wedding with all your families and the Avengers all in attendance.  Him in his blue formal uniform, you in an over-the-top white dress.  It was a fun little vision and you couldn’t wait to start planning it properly so the two of you could get on with spending your whole lives together.

// NEXT

[nalu4emily]

Time To Heal

Summary:  'It was a marathon, not a sprint and with each day he spent with her, pretending to act like his normal self, the more he hoped she'd begin to loosen—only time would tell.' What can Natsu do to heal her aching heart? Especially when she's reluctant to tell him what happened. 

NALU friendship/ hurt/ comfort. 

Please be aware of the trigger warning. Do not read unless 18+. Contains sensitive content.

She was crying again; that much was certain. The sound of sniffles and wet droplets cascading down her cheeks, splattering across the desk she so often sat at, echoed deep into his ears. Her whimpers pulled at him the most. She tried so hard to keep them locked away, to defy her true feelings, but they managed to seep through every time.

It hurt him, to know that she was suffering so painfully, so inconsolably, and there was simply nothing he could do to stop it. He'd waited for her; to speak; to tell him what'd really happened that night, and relieve herself of the burden that weighed so heavily on her shoulders.

It haunted her every waking moment; he knew that. Even at night, she'd rouse so suddenly, coated in sweat, shivering, and desperate for his warm touch. It seemed to be the only thing that could soothe her frantic heart, especially when the tears started. Her behaviour wasn't all that different during the day either and Natsu had nearly given up hope that she'd ever tell him, making the guilt he felt for not being there all the more consuming.

The state he'd found her in the next morning, bloodied, clothes torn and completely broken, tormented his thoughts daily, and the way he'd reacted to it, even more so. Through the despair and anger at finding her so badly hurt, he'd raged through the streets of Magnolia, hunting down the bastard he could smell all over her apartment.

It wasn't hard to dissect what'd happened to her, the slayer just wasn't sure how far it'd gone. He'd learnt quickly not to ask questions though or risk losing her trust entirely. It was a marathon, not a sprint and with each day he spent with her, pretending to act like his normal self, the more he hoped she'd begin to loosen—only time would tell.

Having procrastinated long enough, the young mage jumped up to her window, and let himself in like always. Plastering the biggest smile he could muster onto his face, he greeted the girl hunched over her desk, right where he knew she'd be and tried to remain positive in such a ghastly situation.

"O-Oh, uh… Hi, Natsu! I didn't see you there." Her eyes locked onto his for barely a moment before turning away, wiping her cheeks to rid them of their wetness with her used, snot-laden tissue. She turned around to face him, her gaze never quite meeting his as a small, weak smile graced her lips, "Where's Happy?"

"Probably eating a fish somewhere… Or at the guild giving it to Carla, you know what he's like." He shrugged, his expression remained light and cheery, while his narrowed pupils latched onto her every movement, much like a predator stalking its prey, "I thought I'd come over and see if ya felt up to going on a mission soon. I snagged some pretty good ones for you to take a look at, if you're interested?"

"Sure… that sounds like fun. W-Why don't I make us some lunch? Then we can pick out a good one together." Lucy hopped up from her chair all too eagerly, desperate to remove herself from his watchful gaze.

She was avoiding him; but that was hardly new. He knew the reason why—the unshed tears in her eyes evidence of that, not that he cared what she looked like. She did it for a matter of pride, wanting him to see only the Lucy he knew so well, and not the damaged one she’d become. He, as much as anyone, wanted to see that smile light up her face once more, the brilliant one that shined as bright as the stars she wielded; what he wouldn’t give to see that again…

Gathering the request papers in his hand, he followed her into the kitchen and leaned himself up against the doorway, smiling as he watched her get to work, “Hey Luce, this one looks kinda good. I think we should definitely consider it.” But she didn’t answer, nor even look at him. If it weren’t for their close proximity, he would have assumed she hadn’t heard him. “Lucy, did you hear me?”

She remained silent, instead her body began to tremble, her face wet with tears once again and her hands drawn to cover them on instinct.

“Luce, I didn’t hear you.” He cautiously walked over to her shaking form, carefully reaching out to place his hand on her shoulder, while the other drew her body in and held her tight, “Lucy...”

"I...I-I can't do this any more…" The blonde spoke quietly, removing her hands from her face and placing them onto his chest.

"What do you mean?" He asked, his voice gentle as if speaking to a spooked animal.

"This." She gestured to the two of them, "Pretend, Natsu. I-I'm tired of pretending like everything's fine, when it's so obviously not." She felt his hand clasp at her cheek, wiping the tear droplets away with his thumb. His familiar warmth soothed her aching heart as she leaned into it, finding comfort there that only he could provide. "I-I'm sorry. You must be so sick of seeing me cry all the time!"

The tears flowed freely now, pulling at his heart strings as well as his own unshed tears, but he would never so selfishly let them show. He cradled her closely, wanting nothing more than for her to feel safe in that moment, like he would protect her from everything, should she so wish. It was the first time Lucy had addressed the very unfortunate situation they found themselves in, and he wasn’t about to ruin it all now by letting his own emotions take over.

She tucked herself into the crook of his neck and breathed in his familiar scent, calming her nerves as she relaxed into him. This is the way they'd always worked, one picking the other up in their time of need and carrying both of their weights should they need to, and Natsu was approaching this no differently.

Once she'd calmed down enough, he picked her up and carried her to her bed, perching them both down on it so that they could get comfortable. She was ready to finally tell him, he could see it in her eyes, and as apprehensive as he was about hearing it, all he needed to do was listen.

"I think you need to tell someone, Lucy. Whether that's me, or someone else, it's not good to keep it all bottled up." He explained, as she pulled away slightly, but not enough to fully let go of him.

"I-I know… It's just hard to relive something you spend every waking moment trying to forget." She sniffled once more, wiping her nose this time on her sleeve. "Can we at least lay back first?" Her voice was so timid and insecure, nothing like the Lucy he knew.

"Sure thing!" He laid himself back against the pillows, kicking his sandals off and placed one arm behind his head while the other was outstretched for her to lean upon. "Come lay here, Luce."

Doing what he said, she cuddled up to his side, laying her hand and cheek against his shoulder and felt his arm encircle her waist, "I… don't really know where to begin… It all seems such a blur, yet I remember every single bit of it."

He kept quiet, caressing his thumb against her hip as a way of encouraging her instead.

She began slowly, starting from where she'd left the guild hall that night, "It was kinda strange I guess… not having you there to walk me home like normal, it never feels right without you around…" She chuckled half-heartedly, before clearing her throat. "I remember walking along the canal when this bad feeling came over me… But, I just put it down to being alone in the dark and kept going.”

She shifted closer to him, subtly indicating that what she was about to say, made her uncomfortable at the very least.

"When I reached the apartment building, I noticed the window was slightly open, even though I knew I’d shut it. I must’ve just thought that you’d come home early from your mission, or something." She fidgeted again, this time her legs began to tangle with his, giving away her anxiety and fear. “It was only once I walked into the room, did my blood run cold. It was dark and empty, and you were no where to be seen. It felt… wrong.”

"You mean they were already in the house?" Natsu asked, feeling himself tense as he looked across the small room, imagining her words play out before him.

"Mm, and by the time I'd reached for my keys, it was too late." She shivered once again, the memories making it hard to concentrate. "H-He came out from behind, shoving me against the wall and pinning my arms above my head." A fresh set of tears began to cascade down her delicate cheeks, her breathing heavier than before and her fingers gripping at his jacket tightly. "I…I remember struggling a lot, trying to kick him away, but it was no use, he was just too strong. I felt so overpowered and small and weak, and all he did was laugh."

Natsu clenched his jaw, realising now that this was about to get a whole lot darker and he could barely keep himself from raging all over again, but he kept himself controlled this time, for Lucy's sake—that was the last thing she needed.

"That's when it started…" She gulped down a large breath, steadying herself as she divulged further, "His hands; his mouth; his… teeth. I-I can still feel them… on me, crawling across my skin."

Natsu's eyes widened, turning to the blonde who refused to look him, and gasped, "He touched you!? Where?" He asked, a little too forcefully in his own shock.

Unable to say with words, she nodded and used her finger to point at the areas on Natsu's body, starting from the top, "Here," she pointed to his mouth and chin. "Then here," she then grazed over his ear and jaw line, and the next one his neck. Her finger ventured down to Natsu's chest and stomach, where she pointed once more, "And then… there," she managed to wrangle out, pointing down towards his upper thigh.

"You mean… that bastard touched you down-"

"He didn't quite get that far. When I stopped struggling, I think he must've lost concentration, because I managed to pull one of my hands free and grab at his crotch."

She felt Natsu tense at that, having anyone grab hold and squeeze them tight was not a pleasant thought, "I hope you squeezed until your hand hurt, Lucy."

"Well, that was the plan… but he slapped me across the face before I could get any real grip and I landed face down on the floor." Jolting upwards, she ran a shaky hand through her hair, removing the blonde tresses away from her clammy forehead. "Sor- Sorry Natsu, the next bit, is where he… It's the bit, I-I struggle with most…"

Feeling alarmed by her reaction, he sat up too. Fearing the worst, he could only hope she wasn't about to tell him what he'd suspected all along, "It's alright, take your time." He reached his hand out to her, thankful she'd taken it and not pushed him away, "What did he do, Lucy?"

Trying to calm the overwhelming anxiety building within her, she swallowed down the longest breath of air, filling her lungs with much needed oxygen, "I remember smacking my head on the floor… A-And then, I felt his weight on top of me…"

Natsu's breath caught in his throat, snapping his head to the part on the floor Lucy had pointed to and could only imagine how frightened she must have been, "Then what, Luce?" He noticed her hesitancy, wishing he didn't have to ask.

"I-I remember his hand on the back of my head, holding me down, while his other hand lifted up my skirt. He was laughing at me, even as he slid down my underwear." She huddled herself back into a ball by the window, wiping continuously at her red and irritated eyes, "It was then that I realised that my struggle was in vain, that no matter what I did, he was going to… then he…" The tears turned to wails as she tried to continue, "And I've… I've never felt more disgusted! I felt helpless and so pathetic, so desperate for someone to come and save me that I stupidly called out your name, even though I knew you wouldn't hear me… That hope was still there."

Natsu had barely moved, so ashamed of himself for not being there in her time of need that he didn't know what to do with this new information. He felt angry beyond words that some bastard out there was walking free after doing such a horrific thing to his Lucy. But among the anger, there were other feelings; guilt; sadness; frustration; regret; all of them fighting for dominance in his tumultuous mind.

"Lucy…" Was all he could manage, unable to find the right words to tell her how truly sorry he was for not coming to her aid, sickened by the fact that while he wasn’t there, she’d suffered so greatly.

"I was so scared, Natsu!" She started, turning to look at his own sombre expression, "But I knew that if anyone were to come, it'd be you." Lucy's lips lifted in the corners, her smile full of sadness and sorrow, "When he finished, I couldn’t move, and all I remember feeling was coldness of the hard floor, wishing you'd come through that window and warm me up again…"

But that's not what happened, and he felt like the worst best friend in the world because of it. She'd needed a loving hand to lead her away from the pain, to comfort her and protect her from the monster that lurked in the dark, but he’d arrived too late.

He felt his heart sink and his stomach drop, his guilt and regret taking precedence, "I… I, I'm so sorry, Lucy… I never meant to… I didn't think-"

"Like I said, I don't blame you for not being there… It wouldn’t be fair of me to do that. How were you to know?” As much as it hurt her, she knew that had he been there, it would’ve been a totally different story, “I just… I need…”

She couldn’t say it with words, but he knew exactly what she was trying to tell him. She needed him, and that’s exactly what he was going to give her. Without saying a word, he reached forward and pulled the desperate girl back into his chest, enveloping her in that warmth she yearned for more than anything else, and held her as if his life depended on it. He wasn't letting go, not ever, and with every minute that passed with her in his arms, was another second towards healing her shattered heart.

“I’m always gonna be here, Lucy. I promise you.” He whispered into her hair, kissing the top of her head as if she was the most precious thing in the world. “You mean too much to me.”

She snuggled closer, wanting to be as near to him as she could and tightened her grip, “Thank you, Natsu.” With his warmth seeping deep into her cold body, warming her very soul, she relaxed against him, and felt her eyes slowly close, “Thank you...”

I know this was a sad one for nalu day, but I wanted to convey more the bond between them rather than the actual incident. I hope you liked it anyway! :)