#on GOD I had a random spurt of an idea and I snatched it and Usain Bolted with it

[bakatenshii]

Katsuki x Leese HCs

I uhhh have no excuses for this. This turned out so much longer than expected and I just?? Hope you don’t lose too many braincells hehe Inspired by our mutual obsession love for the Yakuza. For @lookslikeleese 3.5k! U make my kokoro doki doki ♡︎ \٩(๑`^´๑)۶/ ♡︎

So we all know Weese Leese as this saint, an angel sent from above, a pure soul that could do no wrong.

Leese, who puts up with our spamming, random bursts of thirst at 4am, answering everyone with nothing less than kind words straight out of a self-help book.

The reincarnation of Mother Theresa herself, if you will (minus the controversial problematic part)

Except I’m bout to blow your mind right now, cue the big TRIGGER WARNING: MIND BLOWING INFO AHEAD:

She’s a bit of a closet brat. No, not the kind that’s outwardly sassy, she’s just not a pushover. And maybe a lil stubborn.

Especially if someone who has no right to challenge her is speaking down to her.

See: 6’3, beeg beefy undercut Katsuki

Katsuki, who’s patrolling his district in the Kabukicho, making sure no one’s doing illegal business in his area, his property

He probably didn’t need two bodyguards with him, he could handle himself just fine. (He doesn’t know that they were just there to keep him in line, make sure he doesn’t blow up a hostess club because a man walked in who looked like Deku)

But it was a spectacle to see either way, three massive tatted men storming down the rowdy streets like it’s nobody’s business— (soon there might be none left if they keep scaring the fucking customers away)

Don’t get impatient, we’ll tie them together somehow I promise, and no they’re not going to fight over spilt boba this time

(Or any mugging of any kind, though that’s a good fuckin trope that I will shamelessly re-use)

Weese Leese is walking home from work, and sees some sketchy men in a dingy alleyway in sunglasses and suits— she knew right away that they were Top Tier suspy

I mean, if the way they were trying to coerce an innocent-looking girl in school uniform didn’t already give it away, the sunglasses at 8pm definitely did the job.

So Weese Leese took her whole Mother Theresa, Thou Shalt Not Hurt an Innocent Girl (pls no one religious attack me please) ass over

Because she’s too good for this world, honestly

Can’t help but jump in to try and help someone in potential danger, she knew it all too well herself.

Of course the men flip out, screaming at her to fuck off or take the poor girl’s spot

(for the sake of this AU we’re going to pretend that either we all speak fluent anime Japanese or it’s in English, plotholes be damned)

This is when Big Boss Katsuki comes marching in, wide as the alleyway itself, and—

Doesn’t come to Weese Leese’s aid, SIKE yall thought he was gonna be a knight in shining armour?

Nah, he’s pissed that a random woman is sticking her nose in somewhere she doesn’t belong

There’s a lot of ‘aniki’s and ‘oyabun’s and ‘kumicho’s going around, and Weese Leese has seen enough Yakuza movies fantasized about enough tatted men with missing pinkies to understand that she fucked up

Sort of.

This 200lbs of pure muscle of a man is the Head of Some Family, probably, and like, yeah, realistically she should be flittering in fear, but the only thing she’s getting are fanny flutters (alliteration or whatever, we out here)

BUT how much she wants to fuck this man still doesn’t excuse the fact that his subordinates were trying to force a (most-likely) underage girl into fuck-knows-what

So when Katsuki, in true aggressive on-brand fashion, practically roars out a

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, woman? Stay in your lane, this is my business”

She actually, to everyones surprise, retorts:

“Maybe teach your subordinates to use their brains a lil and pick out someone who’s not clearly underage and still in uniform next time, then.”

So now we’re back to the beginning, end of the: record scratch, freeze frame, ‘Yup, that’s me. You’re probably wondering how I got here’ sequence

Told you it’d all tie together, sans-boba

Back to the show:

Katsuki’s fucking shocked, kinda impressed, but mostly pissed off that some ‘stupid woman’ is talking back to him telling him how to run his business

Weese Leese is… kind of terrified, mostly turned on though, because her brain’s wiring must’ve gotten tangled when she turned into this alleyway.

Sucks for him because she had a point, and Katsuki’s not fucking blind— he can see the uniform clearly on this stupid girl’s body.

They deal with it some Yakuza way, I’ll spare yall the details and me the work of doing research and writing more nonsensical irrelevant waffle (because weese has the attention span of a 3 year old and doesn’t like long drawn out narratives boohoo)

Cut scene back to Katsuki, his two irrelevant bodyguards, and Weese Leese, stood alone in the alleyway.

He’s fuming because she’s demanding an apology for his attitude, his bodyguards are only slightly worried they might have to repave the alleyway (again), and Weese Leese is…

scanning any sliver of exposed skin for some yummy scary tattoos

Long story short, one long passive aggressive (from Leese’s end), straight up aggressive (from Katsuki’s end), argument later, he swallows his pride and offers her a drink at a local bar he owns as a means of apology.

because he’s not saying those words

(also to flex, he’s a proud bastard, he is)

We’ve all read Weese Leese’s hcs about drunk! Leese right? So we know how bold she is?

And how touchy she is and how her brain-to-mouth filter takes a holiday on a Caribbean island so she’s spouting shit like ‘show me your tattooooooos’ and not noticing how he’s blushing in response?

Drunk! Leese gets too drunk, and conveniently loses her keys (she just can’t find them, dont worry we’re not losing deposit money here) so in true Josei manga fashion, he takes her to a hotel 

(THAT HE OWNS, HE OWNS EVERYTHING, OYABUN KATSUKI COMING THROUGH)

Because he can’t take her back to his, obviously. Not only is that embarrassing but also dangerous.

(Not that he cares what happens to her, obviously)

Stupid fucking tsundere

Do they diddle the do at the hotel? You decide, but they definitely diddle the do the next morning when she wakes up, sees him splayed on the bed on his stomach and she absentmindedly traces over the back-piece he’s got.

Yeah, he’s for a back-piece. It’s entirely self-indulgent, I don’t care. He’s also got all ten of his fingers because I say so.

And he wakes up with a raging boner mighty need and a half naked girl in his bed caressing the muscles on his back and

BLEEP

Insert censor bar here.

He doesn’t admit that he likes her, of course he doesn’t. Do you even know how tsunderes work?

He just thinks she’s nice, and comforting, let’s him be loud and angry all he wants, but can also stand her own ground and so, so lovely fun to be around. She’s great company, that’s all.

The head of a house needs a woman to play around with, right? That’s what all his shateis say (see: Yakuza term for younger brothers)

So what if they don’t buy their women flowers, take them to fancy dinners at restaurants they own, pound them against the penthouse windows of hotels they own, and begrudgingly take hot soaks in the fancy marble bathtubs the morning after.

He’s just better than them, that’s all.

He’s always the best at what he does, always has to be #1, so courting a woman shouldn’t be any different.

It’s not until his shateis poke fun at how soft he’s become and asks him when he’s inviting her to move in when he realizes—

fuck.

He’s in too deep.

But there’s something special about fucking his woman on the ancient tatami flooring of the house, (he’d only had to replace two holes, so he’s doing alright to be fair) 

Or outside on the wooden planks of the hallway, legs pushed down to her ears as he plows her in front of the judging eyes of the Koi fish in the Japanese garden.

Or having her parade around in clothes he chooses for her, proudly displaying her as his. And so they live happily ever after, Yakuza movie style.

They might pop out an heir within the next two years, but that’s all for the better, right? Gotta continue the bloodline and whatnot.

edit: weese made a picrew with yakuza! katsuki

[jean-does-not-have-a-horseface]

Only Time Makes It Human 3

Part 1 | Part 2

A/N: hi and sorry for the long wait, I had to squish my brain real hard to get this chapter out, but I hope you like it, I decided a chapter about growth wasn't enough and y'all gave me an idea for angst so I just splashed it there and we'll delve into it more on the next chapter. 10/10 the idea works well enough for me to bring Levi and reader together even more. So don't call me out on being random. This is raw, un fucking edited, I'll edit later 💗

Pairing: Levi/ Reader

Tags: modern au, college au

Warnings: mentions of blood

Special kudos if you figure out why I used this gif ;)

The problem with your feet being numb in the morning when you woke up wasn't supposed to phase you as much as it currently did, but the weathering cold that had barged its way to your room silently begged to have you feel something other than the everlasting whirlpool of regret.

Which was -unsurpisingly- something you had been spiraling into a lot lately.

Your ringtone -or rather the caller that had caused it to go off- nontheless remained mercilessly unforgiving to your current condition. The brute vibrations that accompanied your once favorite song ripped through the air and bounced on every wall inside your room before it wooshed inside your eardrums.

You fucking finally had to change that ringtone, you thought.

Your feet, moist and heavy as they buzzed with the aftermath of the coma-like sleep you had just gone through, struggled to wiggle from underneath the comfort of your blankets. Your hands instinctively rubbed the underside of your nose as you sniffled all the cold of the room around you. Throwing the blanket off of you, you groaned at the non stop ringing of your phone.

The few steps to your desk felt like an eternity of having to walk with a badgy weight on your feet, but the faint feeling in your body didnt come to an halt even after you picked the device in your hands. Your eyes couldn’t really adjust well to make out the ID of the caller, of course, sleep hadn't rubbed off your eye lids yet, but still you slid the emerald button to acceptance with no resistance.

“Hey” you sleepingly moaned.

“Hellooo! (Y/n)!” Hange called enthusiastically for the other line, her joyous voice piercing your eardrums “Where are you booo?”

“I just woke up why?” you yanwed.

Pacing your eyes around your room you noticed the dull daylight creeping in through your blinds, signaling the gloom of another potentially snowy day for Trost. You blinked as you took notice of the few articles of soon to reside in the laundry bin clothing as well as the dress that hung from your closet door.

And then, it all snapped.

“Oh. shit!”

Anxiety rushed through you like a bullet to the gut, gushing numbness and waves of cold sweat from the point of impact. Forcefully, you ripped your phone off your ear and double tapped at screen to make it light up. The date read December 25, and below it, laid numerous notifications of your alarm and even a pop up reminder from last night to not forget the food you had to take with you.

Thinking back to that, your head started spinning like crazy, the familiar, yet bizarre feeling of your stomach dropping overtaking you. You hadn't cooked, rather, you had spent all night drinking and sulking on your own, cursing yourself for all your choices up to date.

"Yes, oh shit!” Hnge laughed “Oh! You forgot?”

"Hangeeee stop screaming oh my god no I didn't forget, I'm on my way okay?"

A little yelp came out of your mouth as the cable of your charger prevented you from taking another step closer to your bedroom door; letting out a curse under your breath though you quickly unplugged your phone, and rushed over the mess of your room and out to your living room.

"But you said you just woke up."

"Ahhh," you scratched your head, feeling your loose t-shirt sliding down your shoulder "no!" You said, then in a sterner voice you repeated "No! I uhm, I was just-"

Your poor excuse to communicate after having just woken up didn't startled Hange. If anything, she seemed to find it amusing because she burst into joyous, bubbling laughter at the sound of your despair. And you couldn't blame her for it; were you under any other circumstance you would be laughing with yourself as well.

"It's fine. Erwin and I are making a cake for shorty so if you want to cook here you have plenty of time yet. I'm going to say it though, we could really use your pastry skill."

You let out a sigh as you took your phone off your ear and pressed on the speaker icon. Your hands worked fast to grip onto the hem of your shirt and then, even faster, they managed to pull it off of you in shift movements.

"I'm just going to have a shower, dress up and I'll be on my way. It shouldn't take more than 30 minutes."

Hange exhaled in utter relief through the phone and you could practically feel her sheepish smile as Erwin shouted a big fat 'thank you' from the depths of his kitchen. Bringing out a hand to grap your shower cap -the only shower product you loathed using- you ripped the cap off its place on your cabinet and messily shoved all of your hair in it in rushed movements.

"Got any questions before I hit the shower Hange?"

"Please ask her" Erwin was heard and you cocked your head to the side at the sound.

"No Erwiin, we got it under control okay?"

"No we don't."

Shaking your head to prevent yourself from zoning out, you clicked your tongue before opening your mouth to address your two friends. Asking as to what they were referring to was easy, although it was obvious that Hange felt confident in succeeding in the task Erwin was referring to. Knowing Hange though, you thought you could guess perhaps what exactly was going on.

"Please don't mix food coloring with spinach juice to make the cake green like two years ago."

Erwin's laughter was pretty much evident through the other line as Hange went on blubbering about how she wasn't going to do it again giving extreme emphasis as to why she couldn't understand the reason it tasted bad in the first place but would go with what you said nevertheless. At that point Erwin was laughing hysterically, telling you how Hange was once again, indeed, thinking about it and the sound of his laughter grew even louder than Hange's words.

"Do you have food coloring?"

"Yes Hange I have food coloring."

"Plea-pleaee bring some. Dammit Erwin what's gotten into you- gotta go (y/n) see you in a while."

The beeping sound from the other line left you little to no time to properly reply to your friends with a much wanted greeting, though, you didn't think much of it. You were going to spend the whole day with them, so getting upset over not getting the chance to say goodbye over the phone wasn't something that should have caused guilt to spurt in you.

But surely, this wasn't the only cause of your overly bubbling guilt. The actual cause of the knot in your gut laid to the fact that within the time span of two weeks you had managed to to drag Levi and yourself into a rather steep rabbit hole. There was going to be a serious impact of your relationship with your friends had the two of you made it known to them; everyone would scold you -and they'd be right at that- and maybe this time they'd pick sides as to what wrong or not. And you didn't want that.

Although you secretly wished everyone went with Levi. Or at least you had come to the conclusion that that was what you deserved.

You had been feeling bothered and repulsed by what had caused you to make out with him that night, given the fact that you had been the one that initiated the kiss. And just as much, you had been feeling furious over Levi allowing this to ever happen. But looking back at it now, you couldn't say you regretted getting close to him even in such way. And that was probably the most infuriating thing of all.

Nevertheless, there was also the fact that you would be seeing Levi today and frankly you didn't know what to do with that. Should you act like everything was fine? Should you simply ignore him? Was Petra going to be with him?

Speaking of Petra it would be best if you straight up let her know of what had happened. Acting shady with another woman's man behind her back was outrageous for anyone to do and you hated being in that position like the next person.

Your stomach twisted dangerously at your spiraling thoughts, but you chose to ignore the tight knot, attributing the loud growl you had heard to one caused by your excessive hunger.

Perhaps, your shower was going to help you sort out your thoughts and intentions.

With a twist of your wrist the water started sprinting out of the tap in your shower. Your eyes were fixated on your phone, your thumb roaming through Spotify in hopes to find the perfect song to company your bath with. You simply said good for a Christmas playlist that Spotify suggested, tapping on that, a list of numerous jolly songs popped up in your screen and you simply pressed the big shuffle button before putting your head on your cabinet.

..

The walk to Erwin's house was very much and as previously expected, quiet. The sidewalks on your way were all covered in sugary white snow, decorating each different apartment complex in the non urban side of Trost along with the standard holiday decorations.

Taking a deep sigh you brought the back of your finger to the metallic button of Erwin's doorbell. Blinking rationally, you looked around at the marble front door frame of his apartment complex, your blood subtly rushing to your feet. You dragged the tip of your combat boot over the snow, curling your toes on the fuzzy material that covered the inside of the shoe.

You were beginning to become impatient as you waited on the doorframe, Erwin was taking way too long to open the door and you were practically freezing out there; the dress you wore did almost nothing to keep you warm. Despite you taking precautions by wearing a cardigan and the leather coat that you had snatched from your brother, the cold still pierced through your sheer black pantyhose, as if your efforts to stay warm were ridiculous.

The sound of footsteps was what startled you next but still your head didn't turn to the source of the buzzing noise. Your nose simply nuzzled to the scarf you had wrapped around yourself as you rubbed your face onto its warm fleece material.

"Uh, hi."

This time you could help but turn around to check who had thrown a greeting at you.

A familiar puff of ginger hair greeted you as you snuck your nose out of the edge of your scarf, two big and round hazel eyes stared right at you as you blinked rapidly back at them.

Great. Just great.

"Hey."

Petra wiggled her nostrils once to the left and then to the right, seemingly scratching the awkwardness in the atmosphere away. She blinked her eyes a few times into yours, her lips pursing together slightly as if she was coming up with a good comeback to your greeting, yet it never came.

"uhm, what's up?"

Your fingers slightly clutched the edges of your coat, crossing over your chest as you felt your jaw start clattering. Your pupils gathered at the corners of your eyes, catching small glimpses of Petra as you eyed her up and down.

She too had opted for a cardigan and a dress. A very safe choice if you were in a place to express your opinion but hers, despite being adorned with numerous tiny and dainty coral and red flowers, looked so thin and tule like and it barely covered her thighs, so much that you felt a pinch of concern run through you that you were slow to decide on whether you wanted to brush off or not.

"I'm.. good." She managed to let out, but you noticed how her lip trembled.

She was definitely shivering, if that wasn't concerning enough you didn't know what was, and she looked so frail and out of place that she could definitely beat you at it. Plus, the lack of a warm jacket struck somewhat of a nerve at you. Even feeling so much guilt over being in her presence you couldn't help but feel your motherly friend instincts wash over you; why wasn't she wearing something warmer? And why were you seconds away from taking off your jacket to offer it to her when you knew she wouldn't even accept it.

"Damn, Erwin's sure taking long, do you want my jacket?"

"Uh-"

Once again and mostly out of instinct, your finger tapped over the metallic button, covered by the edge of your sleeve. Suddenly, the familiar buzz of the intercom growled in your eardrum and you shook your head to its direction automatically.

"I'm so sorry!" Erwin said. "Come in!"

"Hey Erwin!" Petra spoke before you had a chance to say your wanted reply.

Even if you couldn't see him, you knew how shocked of an expression he was wearing.

Taking the few steps into the apartment complex's yard, you rushed to the next door and waited for the known buzz which signaled that Erwin had finally let you inside. With awkwardness spread over your face though, you pushed your lips into a thing line, holding the door back as you signaled to Petra that she should be the first to come inside.

"Thank you." She muttered.

"No prob."

You watched as Petra hesitated to push the elevator button; with a set of trembling fingers her palm rested only a few inches before the metallic button that was lit in a red arrow. With another smile you came closer to her and went to check in which floor the elevator was currently at. Whether she flinched intentionally or not, you didn't know.

"Wanna share a lift? It'll be a while till it comes down again." You offered.

"Uhm, yeah okay."

Once she responded, Petra tapped onto the elevator button with her thumb.

Petra looked at you and clung onto the edged of her cardigan once again. You took notice of how she looked a little more casual and unkept, despite being dressed on point; the lack of a jacket and her tousled naturally wavy bob betrayed an unwillingness to be present to today's event and it's was painfully obvious.

"I'd like to" Petra hesitated, "I'd like to talk to you about something."

"Oh sure, what is it about?"

"It's about Levi."

Dead silence fell as Petra didn't dare turn her gaze to your direction. The little screen over the elevator button still showed that your lift was taking long to come down as if it mocked you, but you couldn't find it in you to tap into the button once again.

"Would you like to grab some coffee with me tomorrow?"

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow.

To say that you were panicked would be an exaggeration and probably a degradation to Petra's feelings. Her breathing was heavier than your own, frankly because for her it must have been even more uncomfortable than it was for you. You couldn't blame her for that.

Nonetheless you couldn't help but be genuinely curious as to what she had wanted to tell you? It was evident that she knew something. What's slipped you was whether or not she want to bash you for your actions.

She had every right to do so.

"Yeah. Of course, uhh, tomorrow sounds good."

....

Christmas day wasn't as bad as you had expected it to be when Hange had announced to you that Levi would be coming alone with Petra.

For starters, the food was in plehtora; Erwin had cooked your jolly favorite roasted chicken, Mike and Nanaba had brought an enormous plate of their creamiest, most mouth watering souffle, Levi had made some god tasty pumpkin soup and Hange had taken actually good care of fixing a custom non alcoholic cocktail to each one of you.

All of this drool worthy deliciousness had caused, and non surprisingly at that, your body to submit in that peaceful demi slumber that tagged along with the fullness of your tummy. Frankly, it had been so long since you had enjoyed such a good meal and you didn't think you would be enjoying another one until Mikasa's birthday.

Thus, the cool evening sir that entered the room when Erwin opened the window door to the balcony, found you laying on the floor right next to the tangerine fire that danced in the fireplace. You could faintly feel Nanaba's hand scratch at the roots of your hair, her almond tipped nails slowly running in purringly mellow lines over your sculp that sent you to pure delight.

Levi's eyes danced over your form more than he'd like to admit so. Ever so slightly his pupils would travel up and down your thighs and calfs, examining the material of your sheer back pantyhose but whatever emotion overcame him wasn't the animalistic lust he had expected to feel.

He felt rather guilty. And not only for staring at your legs. For bringing himself upon the situation he was in.

It wasn't easy to think with a throbbing head but in Levi's world this poor condition was translated as a prompt to try to get out of whatever shithole he had found himself in. Maybe. Because there was also a certain part inside of him that bashed him to no end about his previous and degrading actions to both Petra's and his person, which part he completely and rationally justified.

With a quick glance at Petra, Levi brought his hand to his face to hopefully wipe any of the numbness his guilt had got him feeling. Petra seemed to enjoy herself as per usual. With her soft smiles and the mellow sway of her hair over her shoulder, she'd often reach for the hem of her white wooly cardigan to cover her shoulder while cooing into the soft material and onto the side of the couch she was seating in.

It would be hard for anyone to guess that the two of them had broken up.

She was unsurprisingly sitting as far off him as she could; the fact that they hadn't announced to anyone they had broken up because they didn't want the Christmas party at Erwin's to be ruined didn't mean she owned Levi to act like his faithful and bubbly dog.

It happened that night after he had stood her up at the movies.

Levi had gathered all of his determination and had managed to push all thoughts aside from the back of his brain, as he was despairate to ignore that feeling your make out session had brushed on him. He had walked up to Petra, all dissolved and stoic, his chest swelling with anxiety. He had stared at her with an agape mouth, he had been muttering words so honest that he felt were fatally brute and Petra had digested them all without any difficulty.

And before he knew it, he was over and done.

Petra hadn't cried, she hadn't wept, she had only answered him with a smile that she'd rather just be friends with him if things weren't going to work between them.

And to an extended it tortured the ravenette, mostly because he remembered the hurt look in her face before she had managed to hide it with her usual mellow smile.

Taking another sigh, Levi stared at Petra's hand while she played silently with the lettuce hem of her dress. Her hazel orbs were fixed on you, who laid before the fireplace like a stray cat on the tire of car during a snowy day. Levi couldnt exactly place the exact emotion behind Petra's expression, though it would be perceived by most as a saddened one. There were specs of regret gathering at the corners of her eyes, reluctance gathered at her slightly puckered lips and a hint of determination to the front tips of her eyebrows.

Maybe Petra's inner strength was something that Levi deeply admired.

Levi made no effort whatsoever to reach out to her to ask what was going on, not even to show some seemingly convern. The more he looked at Petra, the more it felt utterly wrong for him to simply stand next to her, knowing what he had do behind her back. Whether he loved her or not, it wasn't like him to be caught up in such stupid drama.

"Shorty!"

Levi looked up to an enthusiastic Hange with much tousled hair and a big grin on her face that spread from one ear to another. With another, more thorough glance, he quickly became aware of the cake in her hands; a cake covered in white frosting, decorated with soft pastel green letters that wrote a simple birthday wish to his person. He couldn't help but let out a sigh.

"For you!" Hange smiled further "Erwiiin, come light up the candles!"

Looking around the room he noticed how all of his friends' gazes were on him. Mike and Nanaba remained cuddled on the couch opposite to the one he was on, Petra was mellowy smiling at his eith her cherry lips pressed into a thin line and you were fiddling with what seating arrangement was most comfortable for you at the moment.

"We're celebrating another year where you went up in age and down in height, how delightful." Mike commented, causing laughter to spark between the small group of people around you.

After the spur of happiness died out your eyes met with Levi's, briefly and then they traveled anywhere else in the room altogether.

"Let's light up the candles!" Smiled Erwin as he flicked the small metallic button of his lighter.

"I don't want too many, shit. The last time you took my lungs out."

"Not our fault that you're old Levi!" You spoke, earning a half smile by the ravenette.

"Very old!" Hange agreed.

"Tch, I'm only turning twenty six shut your shitty mouths!"

The warm light of the fire licked each waxed strip of wick that hung from the candles, illuminating Hange's face in warm orange light. Once done with lighting up the candles, Erwin plopped himself in between Levi and Petra, crossing his hands over his knees as he shifted his bottom in the most uncomfortable seating on a couch you had ever witnessed.

You merely caught a glimpse of Hange kneeling before Levi as you dragged your gaze over to Petra, fixating it on her for the thousandth time this evening.

There only was one thing in your head that bounced between the crevices of your brain like crazy. Just one simple words that held so much behind it.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow you were going to apologize to Petra and try to make amends. Being the despicable toxic person you had turned into didn't suit you. Owing up to your mistakes was the first step to redemption and you weren't afraid to take it.

As you fell into a spiral of thoughts and guesses about tomorrow though, you couldn't help but subtly ignore the cheerful sing alone to Levi's birthday song.

.....

"Thank you for coming!"

Petra's hair was messily swaying all over her face, falling a direct victim to the frozen December air, yet she smiled as if nothing was going on.

The park around you was covered in snow. White was primarily the color that was plastered on everything, save for the dry stems of trees that were once covered in forest green leaves.

Your peeping hot coffee did nothing to warm up your hands, despite your best wishes and in the moment you had called victim to some specs of jealousy over Petra's gloved hands as they rubbed soothing over her own coffee.

"Of course, I had been meaning to talk to you as well."

"Oh you did?" Petra spoke with her eyebrows following the little surprise that was masking her tone. "To be honest, I didn't think you'd come."

"Yeah about that-"

"Can I please go first?" Petra cut you off.

Her huge hazel eyes that blinked into yours from your left side left you little to no space to deny her wish. Thus, by taking a sigh, you pushed past the quick beating of your heart and gestured her to go first with a kind smile on your face.

"Okay oof, thanks!" Petra huffed "look. Levi and I broke up. Now I know that you'll say it doesn't concern you, and frankly it'd be ideal if it didn't, but I know it does, because Levi explained to me what happened."

At that Petra slightly paused.

Naturallye first thing that came to your mind was the need to express an apology. Although, you weren't that sure if Petra would perceive the apology as sincere, you felt like you ought to give one to her. Yet her eyes blinked into yours further as she took another turn down the path you were walking on and you wordlessly followed asuit.

"I love Levi you know," she sighed "but Levi loves you. You're not over each other and it's painfully obvious, I mean you did just collided to eachother quite literally, not giving a single care about whether you couldn't have each other or not."

A sheer red colored tint painted your cheeks at her words.

Your skin pricked you, burning up a stingingly painful path to all of the pores on your face as shame took the form of an earth shattering wave. Your heart started heaping beats, hollering into the depths of your chest and you could hear it bounce inside your eardrums as if your whole body was hollow save for the jolting organ and the echo of the sound it made was bouncing around each fleshy wall.

Petra was right and you couldn't help but accept but stand the as she was lightning you with her words.

"It hurts to see that someone that I love doesn't love me back but it hurts more to see that you two are very miserable without eachother. I really thought you were a bitch you know."

At the sound of that, you let out a startled laugh.

"Me?"

"Yeah, you just gave us looks when we'd shoe up together somewhere or you'd simply leave, but I don't like turning my back on people and judging them like that. I'm in no place to judge anyone a coping mechanism."

Petra sighed. Her fingers curled strongly onto her cup, while her left palm went to support the cup by the bottom as she angled it on her lips. She made a tiny gulping noise as she drank a sip from her latte, her nose crinkling up as the hot beverage brushed over her sensitive tongue. In turn, you sipped similarly, mimicking Petra just hoping it would serve as a sign for her to go on with her speech.

"I might be hurt, but I vouch to help you and Levi resolve what's going on and get back together."

"You do?"

"Mhm"

"Petra I, I don't know what to say you- you're a literal angel." You admit and the guilt in your stomach only growled in its awakening.

You and Levi had hurt a wonderful person. Petra didn't need to be nice to you, she didn't need to offer to help you with anything but once you made yourself step inside her shoes you were able to see why she had perceived you the way that she initially had.

"I'm sorry."

Your voice was silent and stripped of any emotion other than shame yet Petra was beaming at you in response.

Her warm smile was elegant and comforting as she stared at you, taking another gulp of her drink with a soft giggle. Your eyes were locked with hers, saddened (e/c) irises staring into her hazel ones, as she smiled even more little by little.

It was strange.

There was a different kind of bubbling inside your chest and you knew because your heart wasn't hammering anymore, not was your stomach trying to be ripped apart in tiny pieces after it vored into your other intestines. You felt serene, at peace even.

It clicked to you that this is what must feel to be forgiven.

"It's fine, plus you guys kinda deserve each other." Petra laughed at your chocked inhale, pressing a comforting, gloved palm to your shoulder. "I'd rather find my happiness when I'm not in between two people that struggle to find theirs."

Petra nuzzled to the comfort of her jacket, giving you a scrunched up bunny smile. You knew it's not that she hoped you could be best friends after this. She simply wanted to make sure that she could do her best to help two people find happiness. And it wasn't all that bad, you figured. You didn't know what you would do were you in her place.

In a way, you admired Petra for being so strong.

"Besides, girls shouldn't bring down other girls."

"Yeah, and I'm sorry about what I did behind your back. I own up to my mistake. I can't take it back but I can promise that I won't become this toxic ever again."

You shot an apologetic side smile at her as you followed her tracks.

Taking a new look in your surroundings, you deeply inhaled the cold air, filling your lungs in shivering winter freshness. A few specs of snow were adorning Petra's hair as the fell from the sky in a dainty manner, licking the stray threads that popped from her wooly gloves.

There definitely was a commotion a few blocks away. You could hear sirens go off not so far from your spot but you chose to ignore them, it was typical for a city person to filter out unnecessary noise, and having to live in Trost added tons to what you had to filter or not.

"It's December twenty six and the two is back to being a Mayhem." Petra sighed.

"It's like we're Gotham or some shit."

"Gotham?" Petra blinked at you, earning a gasp from you.

"Step one to being the friend of someone who's majoring in comics-"

"Oh, friends yay!"

Shaking your head, to ignore the child like enthusiasm, you continued, "Please know the most well known fictional city, it's Batman's city too."

"OH!" Petra's mouth fell agape as she took in the information, but she quickly giggled again as she saw that you easily took a gulp of your beverage "you're right."

For what seemed like a second you felt at peace once again. Petra bubbled about how she wanted to apologise to Levi about her rather cold behavior last night, and explained in the most non detailed way how it was the memory of the passing of her mother that had caused her to become this grumpy.

"Don't worry Petra! But beware, you could be turning into Levi version two point oh and-"

A loud sound startled you, sending both you and Petra back a few steps. Dumbfounded, you stared at each other and around you, locking eyes with different by passers that were just as shocked as you.

"Maybe we should go back!" Petra suggested. You simply nodded, hearing a good amount of running footsteps coming to the direction of the block you were in. In any way, getting caught up with a manhunt wasn't in your plans for today

"Yeah maybe we shou-"

Your words were cut off absurdly, harshly and shockingly all together. As gunmetal orbs locked with yours, your eyelids shot open, hour mouth dropping to the snow covered concrete.

"Levi?"

Wait, Levi? That was actually so random

Before you could manage to process what was going on around you, or why on earth Levi had just popped up from the alley right across you another head splitting sound filled the air.

Levi -yes, this was indeed Levi, you just didn't really know how to process this- collapsed on his knees like a rag doll, his torso and head giving in to the exhaustion of his body. Once he fell, you stood frozen, shieldimg Petra with one hand as the two of you watched in horror while crimson started littering the sugary snow.

"Call an ambulance." You spoke dryly, eyes still wide with horror.

The people who had seemed to be after Levi quickly fell onto the hands of the hands of a handful of police men who were on their tracks, but you couldn't care to look at their faces. You just run towards Levi, always followed by a petrified Petra, your feet giving in as you kneeled right next to him, your fingers gingery ghosting over him just to inspect what was his condition.

You listened as Petra spoke with the emergency center in horror, explaining what was the scene before her eyes while struggling to keep herself from trembling.

"What's going on?" Shy muttered once she detached the phone off her ear.

"I'm pretty sure now is not the right time for a story, but Levi used to be in a street gang in his teens."

"Oh boy."

Oh boy indeed.

Here's your gentle reminder that constructive criticism makes me cry because I'm a baby

Taglist: @sasageyowrites @liddolwhynot2000 @ackermans-freedom-inc @callmepromise @nobody-knows-anymore @levisbrat25 @thethyri @hawkssnugget @berrijam @melancholicmonologue

[fanficshiddles]

Too Hot, One shot

Summary: Darcy and Loki end up getting sex pollen on them. Causing them both to come into a type of heat. With only one another to help. 

Darcy and Loki were on a mission for The Avengers.

They were annoyed that they had been sent together. They couldn’t stand one another. Darcy found Loki was so arrogant most of the time, and Loki always got so irritated at Darcy’s sassy mouth.

It was a simple mission though, it was just going to the Collector on Knowhere to pick up something for Stark.

They had received the package from the Collector with no issue, so were heading out of his museum. On the way, Darcy spotted a lovely plant. It was large and had stunning pink flowers coming off it.

‘Oh, that’s beautiful.’ She reached out and plucked one of the flowers off the plant.

‘Darcy, NO!’ Loki quickly reached out and snatched it off her, he grumbled and placed it back on the plant. Hoping the Collector wouldn’t notice.

‘Come on.’ He grabbed her elbow and swiftly led her out of there.

‘What’s your problem? There were heaps of flowers on it, he wouldn’t miss one.’ Darcy snapped as they headed back to their ship.

‘You don’t mess with what belongs to the Collector. Trust me.’ Loki said firmly.

They failed to notice the pollen that came off the flower, landing on Darcy’s hand when she picked it up. And some landed on Loki too after he put it back.

Once the pair were back on the ship, Loki started heading back to Earth. Once they were on route, he put on autopilot and relaxed.

When he looked round at Darcy, he frowned. She was taking off her jumper, leaving her in just a vest top. ‘What are you doing?’ He asked.

‘Too hot. Have you turned the heating up or something?’ She wiped sweat from her forehead.

Loki glanced at the controls and shook his head. ‘No, the air con is on.’

Darcy leaned back in her chair, head back as she started breathing heavily. But then the heat started to seep deeper within her. It felt like every inch of her skin was starting to tingle, needing something…

‘Are you alright?’ Loki asked.

His voice sounded like smooth velvet to her all of a sudden. She snapped her head up and looked over at him, her eyes full of… lust. Which surprised and confused Loki.

Darcy felt her heart racing as she looked at Loki, properly taking him in. His thighs looked so lean and muscular under that leather. His lips looked so kissable… What the heck was wrong with her? She tried shaking it out of her head, this was Loki after all. Who she despised.

But then she suddenly felt it. A deep, hot, throbbing desire between her thighs. She groaned and started tugging at her vest top.

‘Darcy?’ Loki was concerned, but he was also very amused when she stood and pulled her vest top off, her bra came flying off next. Then she quickly unbuckled her belt and slipped her jeans off.

‘Well, I certainly wasn’t expecting a strip show on our journey home.’ Loki drawled, smirking.

‘I need you, Loki! Please!’ She whimpered and rushed to him, straddling over him quickly she started grinding down against him.

Loki was taken aback at first, arms out at the side in surprise. But then a smirk spread across his lips and he chuckled as he let his hands land on her back as she buried her face into his neck, kissing and nipping at his skin.

‘Since when did you desire me, Darcy Lewis?’ He hummed, trailing his fingers lightly up and down her spine, making her tremble under his touch. Making her feel a little better.

‘Hot… Too hot… Need you, please, Loki. Help me.’ She whined desperately, really pushing down against him. He couldn’t hold back a moan as he started to get hard under her. It got worse when Darcy reached down between them and started squeezing at his cock.

But then he started to feel it. He started feeling rather hot, at first like a hot flush. But then it manifested in the same way it did for Darcy. And suddenly he was painfully hard and desperate for a warm quim.

Loki groaned and slid his hand into her hair, wrapping it around his fist he yanked her head back, making her moan. He leaned forward and started attacking her neck, returning the favour of biting and sucking on her skin.

Loki stood up with Darcy’s legs wrapped around him as he slid his free hand down to support her by her bum. As he pressed her back against the wall, he had his own clothes vanish quickly.

Darcy reached down between them and grabbed hold of his cock, so hard and throbbing hot already. She guided him straight to her, she was so wet and aroused that as soon as the tip of him pressed into her, he slammed his hips forward and thrust into her nice and smoothly.

‘OH, GOD YES!’ Darcy screamed as her head fell back against the wall.

Loki started rutting into her roughly, his fingers bruising her ass as he held onto her tightly. They continued biting at one another at every opportunity while Loki bounced Darcy up and down on his cock.

‘Yes, yes, yes, yes!’ Darcy yelled as she came hard, clamping around him. But he kept thrusting into her, pushing through her tight wet walls. Filling her so good.

‘Oh, fuck!’ Loki grunted as he started cumming inside her, unable to stop himself from coating her insides.

They both thought that now they’d cum, their bodies might settle. Both of them had already registered in the back of their minds that it was to do with the flower they both touched. But Loki didn’t soften, at all. And Darcy was craving more, she still felt too hot, a deep fire within her that wasn’t put out yet.

Loki briefly pulled out of her, he was going to take her over to the chair but she had other ideas as she was suddenly mouth watering to taste him. She fell to her knees and took his cock in her mouth greedily, making him moan as he closed his eyes and let his head fall back.

She sucked him off as swiftly and efficiently as possible, taking him down her throat as far as she could and swallowing around him. When he came, she gobbled up as much as she possible could.

Loki hauled her back up to her feet by her hair and he hauled her over to the control panel at the front of the ship. He pushed her down and bent her over the panel. Giving her ass a swift smack, he thrust right back into her awaiting quim.

Her breasts pressed down on random buttons, but neither of them cared as Loki fucked her good and hard from behind. He folded himself down across her back, getting as much skin on skin contact as possible. The both of them were whimpering and moaning right up until they came together again.

And not for the last time.

They were both insatiable for most of the journey home. Eventually, their heats started to die out. Darcy was straddling over Loki, his cock snugly buried inside her. Every now and then she would squeeze him, making him spurt into her. They were both highly sensitive, it didn’t take much for either of them.

‘What… what the fuck was that?’ Darcy asked, leaning back against Loki’s chest. She was more of her own mind now, and part of her was telling her to get the hell off his cock. But another part of her really didn’t want to, it felt too good having him inside her.

Loki dragged his teeth along her shoulder, making her shiver. One of his hands was splayed across her stomach, the other he couldn’t resist gently playing with her nipples. She let her head fall back onto his shoulder.

‘I think that flower you picked had a certain… aphrodisiac, in its pollen.’ He hummed, enjoying the warmth and softness of her around his cock. Not to mention the right sticky mess they were in, constantly dribbling out of her down his cock.

‘Oh… Well, uh. That’s different.’ Darcy said quietly.

‘Indeed… Can’t say I am complaining though.’ He smirked.

‘Don’t get used to it, big guy.’ She huffed.

Loki chuckled and thrust up into her, making her whine and turn to utter putty again.

Well, maybe she could make a few exceptions here and there. The sex had been pretty mind blowing after all…

[feeling-uncomfy]

I have one too many Shouji headcannons that I wanna talk about, but here's a few!

One thing is that he has some serious nerve damage in his back, like- it's not funny

He didn't even realise it was going to be such a problem until he tried exercising when they came back from Nabu

He could normally lift etra heavy weights and all that, he was able to hold out for a lot longer, and he thanked whatever god was out there that he was alone when it happened

He lifted up the weight, heard a loud crack, and was sent to the floor in pain. He couldn't move, and when he tried it felt like he was being stabbed with a bunch of needles in his back

It took him a half hour to force himself off the floor, and almost another hour to get back to the dorms. The pain from it never went away, and he didn't think much of it

He didn't even tell anyone until around a month later when he was forced to. It was a training exercise and his lower back felt like it was on fire the whole time. He and his team (Tokoyami and Midoryia) were able to make it through just fine, and Shouji thought it would be fine, they were going back to the dorms anyway

Dark Shadow was out, and was saying something about how great Shouji did, and clapped him on the back, not thinking much of it.

Shouji's whole world went white the second Dark Shadow put pressure on his back

When he came to, he was face down on a stretcher, not able to move or hear things properly. When the static cleared up, he could hear Midoryia's panicked muttering and he felt something on his head, a hand.

Tokoyami was saying something, then voices from up ahead started getting louder and Shouji felt the pace pick up, he couldn't move to speak, he just had to sit there until he felt something stick in him and the world went dark

When he woke up the next morning, he was forced to tell Aziawa, Recovery Girl and All Might about what happened and why his back was in constant pain. After Recovery Girl gave out about "self sacrificing idiots" while hitting All Might in the shin, Shouji was told he was stuck on bedrest, again.

Shouji agreed, reluctantly, and after a few days was allowed back in class.

That- was not supposed to turn into that, but moving on- to some more "can be extended on-" headcannons

He brushes his teeth at four am in the morning, no I don't have an explanation

The first day of UA he was mistaken as a second year student and got so nervous he agreed and had to have another student tell the teacher they got it wrong

He has so many extra pens and pencils because Denki shoots them across the room and loses them so Shouji has learnt to keep extra on him

If Bakugo and Kirishima were to ever get together to "study" Shouji would have to open a window because of the smell of burning rubber and caramel. He still to this day doesn't know what they do in there, he doesn't know what rubber has to do with their maths test.

The only extra thing he has in his room is a plush that was given to him when he was a kid. He's never let it go and it helps calm him down when he's panicking or stressing, he keeps it hidden in a drawer he can lock

This headcannon I read somewhere, can't remember where, but Shouji is a minimalist because he was bounced around a lot as a kid so he never got to keep anything or make a lot of friends, and to add to that his parents didn't actually give him the plush, it was given to him by another relative

Speaking of, if he were ever to be hit with a deaging quirk he'd be be the smallest kid you've ever seen, he was tiny when he was a kid, and he didn't have a growth spurt until middle school

Also as a kid he was super shy but really quick to settle into unknown environments once given a reason to trust the people around him. If say he was with the hero's they only need to say they're hero's and Shouji is happy to stay.

But he has the tendency to wander, even as a teenager sometimes he'll forget where he is and go wandering around alone, and ends up getting lost easily.

He also gets sensory overloads. It's very common for him and when he does he tends to just leave, he'll just walk away no matter where he is, if he's in class he'll ask to go to the bathroom and disappear for a while

It's more dangerous in public though, because he doesn't need to ask, and it takes forever for people to notice he's gone because he's so quiet. So when they do realise, whoever's with him is freaking out thinking he got snatched by a villain.

He also stims. I love this idea.

When he does it's really subtle and very few notice but those who do are like :0

Tokoyami notices easily, being observant like that, and whatever it is that made Shouji stim is either coming back with them or Tokoyami is taking it away.

Tokoyami keeps whatever he bought in his room so it doesn't clutter Shouji's room and lets him come and take it when he's around

Shouji and Tokoyami hang out a lot, and they're normally studying, but Dark Shadow tends to distract Shouji so it's just Tokoyami studying until he's yelling at Dark Shadow to stop trying to bench press Shouji

Kaminari, Mina and Sero are the worst influences on Shouji Aziawa has met. They lived together a week and Kaminari has not only 1. Stolen a shopping cart. 2. Snuck it into the dorms, but they used Shouji as a seat, and his arms as seatbelts, and went down the stairs in the shopping cart.

Aziawa has to drag Sero, Mina and Kaminari to Recovery Girl while Shouji limped behind them.

Aziawa has also walked in on Bakugo trying to teach Shouji to curse, and almost laughed when Shouji sat there, face blank, and said everything BUT fuck

Aziawa didn't think much of it until during training Shouji fell down two stories saving Iida the trouble, sat up, and mumbled "awe fuck" before standing up and continuing the exercise.

Aziawa forgave himself for wheezing when Bakugo cheered loudly before getting smacked over the head by Kirishima for "ruining Shouji's innocence"

Speaking of, M//eta has called Shouji "sexy octopus" so many times and Shouji's normally let it slide but one time Asui was listening in, heard it, and smacked the trash so far he ended up on the other side of the gym.

People call Shouji baby. Even people outside of 1A. Monoma has fucked up and called Shouji a baby once, and it was a "total accident"

((Kendou asked why Monoma hadn't ever said anything to Shouji and Monoma went "I can't make fun of the 1A baby, I'm not ready to die"))

Shouji is touch starved, and once the girls were cuddling, and Mina forced Shouji to join, he was in tears when they hugged him and ended up falling asleep ten minutes into the movie, he woke up in blankets and surrounded by friends

Shouji is a little spoon. I don't care if he's 6"2. He's a little spoon and I will die on this hill.

He has on multiple occasions forgotten which hand he left his phone in, and dropped it looking for it

Shouji and Ojiro watch Star Wars together, and of all people they roped Momo into watching with them and now she's hooked

Dark Shadow once threw someone down the stairs because they called Shouji a freak

Before Bakugo's character development, he called Shouji freaky, and once they moved into the dorms Bakugo became the first person to jump the gun on anyone who said shit about Shouji's appearance

Shouji. Sucks. At. Maths. I don't have a reason for this, he's really good at History and Science though.

Maths is really hard for some people(me) and Shouji and Denki do their maths homework with Momo. Kaminari once cried over it because he just didn't get it. Shouji almost followed when Momo moved on to Geography

Shouji is willing to let anyone talk to him about their problems, he's very willing to listen, but no one has ever heard him talk about his problems. When people try to let him know it's okay for him to talk, Shouji distracts them with the nearest thing, and he's even tried it with Aziawa

Back to being bounced around as a kid, Shouji still gets bounced around as a teen, just not as often. One couple that took Shouji ended up being... not the greatest people he's ever met.

Aziawa noticed immediately that there was something wrong when Shouji came in late, Recovery Girl at his side. His hands were wrapped in bandages and he sat down without looking up.

Recovery Girl said there was glass in his hands, but Shouji wouldn't tell her how it happened. His exact words were "it was an accident, he- I didn't mean to drop it" and Aziawa's dad instincts were going "N O"

This went on for several weeks, and with every day the injuries got worse and worse until one day Recovery Girl came in and asked if Shouji had shown up, only for Aziawa to say no, normally Shouji goes to Recovery Girl first, then class.

This was concerning, and what was worse is that the new address hadn't been registered, so they couldn't even look for Shouji

Shouji came in three days later, almost two hours earlier than he should've. He ran around looking for Aziawa, or All Might, or anyone who could help him.

Aziawa found him knocking on the staff room door, and Shouji told him what had happened (I'll leave that to you) and Aziawa stood up, left Shouji in Present Mic and All Might's semi capable hands, and went to beat some ass.

No one talks about Aziawa walking into class with bloody fists, talking to Shouji about moving into school funded apartments until the dorms are built.

I should've kept this one and the first one together but oh well-

During flu season no matter how much Shouji avoids it he gets sick and gets knocked down for at least a solid week before he even starts to get better at all

One time Denki caught some random bug, no one knew from where, but it spread fast and hit hard. Shouji stayed as far away from everyone as he could but ended up getting it and was stuck in the hospital overnight because of it, though Shouji doesn't remember this part

It was so bad that even Aziawa got it

All Might is the only one who can carry Shouji, aside from Uraraka but she doesn't count because she makes him float.

I have more but I think I've gone too far for today lmao

Feel free to add to these :D

[myfeetkeepdancing]

One Last Effort  | Tom Holland x Male!Reader

Warning: Smut

Request:  Can you do a smutty bottom Tom x top male reader where they're both closeted actors and costars in some big movie and the tension between them gradually rises until the last day of filming when it comes to a head and they just let it all out in one of their dressing rooms

A final push clicks the mechanism of your suitcase shut. The end of an era. It has something emotional about it. But you weren’t going to admit to it. You pop yourself beside the suitcase on the mattress. Eyeing the trailer, you spend the last months in, recollecting all the treasured memories you made here. Not only this trailer. But also around it. The studios. The stage. Your co-stars all had one, lined alongside the studio. A journey that started far and foreign. Alone and lonely. New co-stars and colleagues. Adjusting your way of living, getting into the flow of filming. Long tiresome days, but with rewarding results. And most important, feeling valued for what you do — being acknowledged at what your best at doing.

Within no time, co-stars started becoming friends. The crew was becoming more than colleagues, making the long days bearable. Dining with the crew, instead of alone in the trailer, going out with co-stars, instead of hanging in your trailer at night. The whole experience was turning out to be a life-defining experience. But all that joy and fun came and abrupt ending.

Months seem long. A year even more so. But once the daily routine, and the things you do become enjoyable. Time has no grasp on you anymore. The most memorable birthday to date was celebrated largely at the studios. Emotional moments were filmed with real pain and feeling. And so was the last day at the studio. In hang in the air for weeks. The tension was tangible between everyone. Sharing the last moments on the screen together. It kept you awake at night. The thought that this was the final moment together. There was no part for any of you in the post production. And if there was, it was voice acting. Something that could be done at home.

Then there was that one person. Tom Holland. You had known him. Years before you got the news, you looked up to him. Admired him. And more.

 Thank the Gods for that first meeting. That moment you met him was magical. From day one, you hit it off. In a good way. You were sure that from day one, some sort of spark hit you. You could feel it. Almost sense it. There was more to it. But who was going to take a shot at it? Risk it all?

 In the months to come, you had shared vast amounts of time with each other. Met his family, friends, and shared memorable moments. Becoming far more than just co-stars, making that last day on set extremely difficult. Hugged, laughed and finally shed a small tear. It was inevitable. Each was going their own way.

Now you were alone. Waiting for the taxi to arrive. Your conscience bothering you. Eating at you, the fact you didn’t tell him how you felt. You let him go. For a moment, you trapped in your own thoughts.

“(Y/N)?” The trailer door creaks open. “H-Hey!”

Snapping from your somewhat daydream you look up at Tom coming through the door. “Get that look from your face. C’mon!” Reaching out to you open arms.

“Oh shut it, Tom.” Waving away his open arms. “I clearly remember seeing you cry as well. Don’t you hate these days?”

“More than you, trust me.” Showing a thin smile. “But I believe-...” Looking about the room. “-you still have my hoodie.”

“I don’t, Tom.” You chuckle lightly. Thinking back to that one night.

“It has to be!” Opening random drawers and closet doors around the trailer. Before locking his gaze onto your suitcase. “You’re were going to take it home, weren’t you?” Pacing towards your suitcase.

You turn your body towards him and pull his arm away. “Don’t you look in there, Tom.”

“What? Why not? Whatcha hidin’ there?” His smile turning in a devilish grin. “You got some of my underwear as well?”

“To be fair, I haven’t had the chance-” You grin, rising to your feet. “-to ask for it.”

“You know… You didn’t ask for my hoodie…” Closing the distance between you. His breath brushing past your skin. His one hand holding onto your shoulder, as he leans into your ear and whispers. “So maybe you should… take it…while you can.” You feel the goosebumps shoot across your skin.

The distance between the two of you was dangerously close — the tension thickening. You catch the sparks glitter in his eyes as he moves back. Your bodies yearning for one and the other. But hesitation holding you both back. Not sure who’s going to take the first step.

“How about you?” You let your fingers brush past his hips, sliding one finger along his belt, pulling him in like an anchor. Your lips were hovering past each other, nearly touching. “Do you want anything… in particular?”  

“Well…” He says while his eyes look about your figure. Before meeting your gaze again. “I’m looking for something-… He pauses as his strong arms reach around you. Pulling you tenderly against him. “-memorable.” Feeling his muscular body pressed against yours. “Got an idea?” He says with a cocky edge.

“I can help you with that…” You wrap your arms around his neck. “But it involves your underwear.”

“Good...” He grins. “Cause it’s starting to get a bit tight down there…”

His lips part before engulfing yours in a long passionate kiss. Your bodies finally finding each other. Moaning deeply into the kiss. Tom becoming fiercer the moment your fingers run along the waistband of his pants. Tom flips your suitcase across the floor so violently. Clothes fly all through the room. Pushing you to mattress, undoing each other of clothes with substantial ferocity. All the pent up energy from past weeks released within seconds. You had teased and played with each other for long enough. Locked in the embrace of love and desire. You both wrestle naked on the mattress, worshipping each other’s body with unrelentless desire, rolling back and forth as you both desperately crave more. Kissing every inch of each other’s skin, sucking and caressing as much as each can. Tom eventually succumbs to his nerves. Lying flat on his back, breathing heavily, his fingers intertwined into your locks of hair as you caress his abs with your lips. Soft moans circle the trailer. You halt and gaze upwards, feeling your hips being clasped by his legs. He cups your cheeks and brings your lips to his. Kissing you violently. Before suddenly pulling you away from his lips. Demanding your attention. “I want you to do me…” He says. “Fuck me (Y/N)” He groans. Right here, right fucking now.” Grinding his pelvis against you.

Before he’s able to utter another word, you have placed your tip at his entrance and push lightly against his hole. Before continuing, you circle a wet finger around his hole. Tom moans out loudly. The anticipation driving Tom mad. Startled by his reaction, you gaze at his lust, overflowing face. Craving you more than anything else. His cock in front of you, standing up in full glory. You’re mesmerized by his meaty shaft and all its veins. All converging to a big throbbing head a top. The reason for your nightly wet dreams. It’s wonderful. You feel your throat falling dry. Feeling yourself harden by the second. “Ram it into me (Y/N)!” He snarls, pulling you back into reality.

You hesitate for a moment. Slowly pushing into him. As soon as you feel the tightness wrap around you. A long a powerful thrust from your pelvis pushes you all the way into him. The warmth and wetness gliding far and deep. Tom’s back arches upward, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. An intense moan sounds through the trailer. “Yes, babe!” He cries out. “Just like that...”

You grab both his shoulders firmly, and start rolling your hips, holding his figure back against your thrust. And begin to slide in and out with increasing speed. The sound of naked flesh slapping against each other was soon overshadowed by cries of pleasure from Tom. His muscled body now under complete control of your shaft, you snatch the pillow beside you and shove it under his hips. Arching his ass more towards you. You reposition along and continue ramming into him. The effect immediately noticeable, feeling yourself gliding much deeper. Not only for yourself.

Tom’s eyes widen, gasping loudly as he arches upward. But you have his body tight into a grasp. Pushing him down again. His lips quiver as he tries to utter a word. His arms fall beside him like a ragdoll. Rendered motionless. Only air escapes his mouth. And the deeper you ram into him, the tighter it feels. Squeezing your member more and more. You feel the edge coming closer. 

Tom’s body shudders under your hands, the sweat making it difficult to hold onto him. His head rolls back, eyes close, and suddenly a long white string lands onto his face. Another lands along his jawline and more on his neck. It never seems to stop. You clench onto his figure and feel a sudden jolt of pleasure shoot down into your hips. And groan uncontrollably as it passes outwards through your member. You shudder and shake as you watch Tom unload himself. Tom eyes instantly lock into your gaze, feeling what’s happening. Before the final spurts sprinkle on his chest. The shaking and shuddering stops and the two bodies collide into a panting mess of flesh and wetness.

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

“Finally got one...” You smile, spinning Tom’s underwear on your finger. A chuckle followed by a tender brush of his fingers along your jaw, he turns your face towards him. Rolling you onto your side, his lips finding yours.

“Well, I’ve got plenty more...” Tom whispers after releasing your lips. His fingers ghosting along your figure.

“Underwear?”

“Oh, you name it, love. Just as long as every piece counts towards this...” His fingers run along your pelvis, Tom grins. “We’re going to be busy for a while.”

“You include socks as well?”

“Fuck yeah…” He grins, pushing you down onto the sheet, throwing one leg over, taking place on top of you. Both his hands cupping the sides of your face, kissing you long and intense. “And they’re going a piece. Not per pair.” He mumbles into the kiss.

[hoodoo12]

Familial Ties (And How to Break Them) 12/14

SFW. The Netherworld. Giving up, then hanging on. ~

Rigel had her by a fistful of hair, dragging her over the saliva-slick floor that felt spongy enough to be the hellmouth's throat but was also perfectly level like a hallway. Pate gripped his wrist in both hands, tears welling in her eyes as she tried to keep her weight supported by her arms instead of her scalp.

He was seething, hissing to himself in a foul language that hurt her ears and she couldn't comprehend, not that it was hard to guess what he was saying. They were moving towards a reddish-orange glow, emerging into a massive corridor that seemed carved from stone and lit with flickering torches mounted to brackets on the walls.

"Where in the fuck have you sent me?!" he snarled, snatching her up onto her knees and shaking her.

Pate winced, feeling several clumps of hair part company with her head as she blinked away the tears, getting a look around. The hallway was short, but the ceiling might be miles above them, swathed in shadow. Set in either side of the wall were huge apertures, and inside each of them were skulls. Bigger than any dinosaur skull she'd ever seen in any museum, and many times more monstrous. After a moment it occurred to her what they were: the remains of other dead hellmouths.

At the far end of the stone hall of skulls was a simple door. Without a word to her Rigel set off for it at a quick, irate pace, still hauling her along behind him by his fist twisted into her hair. But at least now she'd managed to get her feet under her and was able to more or less keep up with him.

When they reached the door it was locked. Bellowing in rage Rigel drew back and kicked it, leading the way to another hallway very different from the one they'd just left. Other than the very dim and oddly cool bluish-green lighting and the bizarre black and white tiled floors, it looked just like any hallway in an office building. There was a man in grim gray overalls, pushing a mop and bucket, who was startled by their sudden appearance. HIs face was wan, his eyes surrounded by deep purplish bruises. She didn't know how she knew, but Pate knew him to be dead.

"Well there's something new," he mumbled drily, mostly to himself.

Resuming a semi-human form, only two arms and legs apiece, Rigel composed himself and addressed the man,

"Where is this, exactly? I've never been to this level."

The spectral janitor chuckled humorlessly.

"This is the very bottom floor, sonny," he said. "Nobody's used the hellmouths in centuries, most of 'em are long dead. But if you head down this hall you'll find the Purgatory check-in desk."

He resumed his task, and Rigel set off in the direction he'd indicated, still dragging Pate behind him.

⁂

The effort of keeping the jaws pried open as he screamed himself hoarse calling for Pate took up most of his concentration. He had half a mind to throw himself down the hellmouth's gullet too, but he didn't know if it would help or not.

There was still a waxing and waning reddish glow from the back of the beast's mouth. What did that mean? The deep tremors didn't seem healthy. It had swallowed the two of them, and he didn't know if they were being digested or falling like Alice down a rabbit hole.

Beetlejuice wailed his frustration.

Then, out of the blue, something tackled him from behind. It did little more than make him go to his hands, forward onto the tip of the hellmouth's tongue, and gave him the unexpected advantage of wedging him between two teeth.

With a snarl even through the renewed pain of Dziban going after his weakened shoulder, Beetlejuice devoted several tentacles to wrapping around the hellhound. It gave the hellmouth the opportunity to close several inches, but he didn't care. He took his rage out on one of it, ignoring the screeches and struggles of the minor demon as it realized this wasn't a fight it was going to win. He crushed and choked it until it grew limp against him, then he flung it away disdainfully.  He threw a quick glance over his shoulder, waiting for the second.

It came rushing at him; he tried to twist to intercept it, but instead of attacking it slipped between the parted lips and teeth of the hellmouth and threw itself down the throat, after its master.

He wondered if he just let the hellmouth snap shut if it would sever him in two. Would his torso end up in the Netherworld and his legs stay in the upper world? His strength was fading.

⁂

Halfway down the hall Rigel had come to an abrupt stop, gasping as if in pain, letting go of her hair at long last to claw at his own throat as if he couldn't breathe. Pate, surprised to find herself free, dropped to all fours and attempted to crawl away, to get to her feet, to run, but before she got far his hand closed on the neck of her shirt and hauled her back, dragging her.

"Fucking Lawrence!" Rigel rasped, sounding as though he'd been choked. "Not like it matters. He can kill the hounds for all I care, I've got his prize."

When they reached the end of the hall Pate saw that there was a Plexiglass-looking window with a cutout and a speaker, like something at a pharmacy or a bank, and a set of double doors. Rigel slung her forward and she slid across the tiles, letting out an "oof!" when her back met the wall while he sauntered up to the counter and tapped the glass.

Leaning forward, Pate could see the window slide open and a face appeared. She gasped. It was a man with a pale, bluish complexion like the janitor, dark bruises in his eye sockets. And a grisly wound, like a gunshot, splattered across much of one side of his face.

"Name?" he asked in a bored voice. Rigel, looking largely human again except for the horns and the blue white fireball floating between them, flashed a winning grin.

"I think we can dispense with that," he said. "Why don't you just put in a call to Juno's office, let her know Rigel is downstairs and looking to come up?"

The man scoffed.

"I can't just call her, sir," he replied blandly. "I'm gonna need you to fill out these forms."

He slid a clipboard through the window, which Rigel eyed with smoldering fury.

 "Little man, if you don't open these doors right now and let me the fuck in --! "

Pate, still seated on the floor with her back to the wall, squinted down the hallway, saw something moving. Running, really. Pelting at terrific speed on four long, skeletal legs.

Cowed, or else just bored enough not to care, the dead receptionist buzzed them in. The double doors slid open, revealing an antique grate elevator. Beyond the metal lattice-work, Pate could only gape in horror at what could only be described as Hell. A sky (or a ceiling?) the color of blood, washing everything in sickly scarlet light; spurts of flame that belched at random from a barren, parched ground; the jagged peaks of distant mountains visible in the distance like the savage teeth of some monster.

Rigel saw the fear on her face and chuckled cruelly.

"What's wrong, my dear? Don't like the look of your new home?"

He seized the neck of her shirt again as he stepped toward the elevator, but he didn't notice the hellhound running up behind him.

Pate squeezed her eyes shut, waiting to feel its teeth, but instead she felt a rush of air and a glancing blow, followed by a sharp tug on her shirt which promptly tore as Dziban launched itself at Rigel, shoving him into the elevator like an overexcited dog greeting its master.

"Get off me, you fucking beast!" Rigel snarled, pushing at the hellhound with his extra limbs.

Wasting no more time Pate scrambled to her feet and ran, ran like the devil himself was at her heels.

"Don't just stand there!" she heard Rigel bellow. "Kill the bitch!"

Not caring that her shirt was torn nearly all the way down the back or that she seemed to be bleeding from somewhere under her hairline, Pate ran harder than she ever had in her life. It was a straight shot, back down the dim hall with its black and white tiles to the door Rigel had kicked open. She passed the dead janitor again who blinked at her, bemused, watching as she backpedaled frantically and ducked through the splintered door.

"Kid!" he called after her. "Hey, kid! You don't wanna do that! The hellmouth's dying! If it goes before you make it through you'll be stuck halfway!"

But she kept on. At the end of the stone corridor with the ceiling she couldn't see, there it was: the hellmouth. Some sort of vital fluid was leaking from its nostrils, it's sagging eyes, out of it's half closed mouth. Without slowing, she bent forward and rushed in.

It was dark in the hellmouth's throat. She hadn't really paid attention before. It was horribly humid from the beast's foul, acrid breath and Pate began to find it difficult to breathe. She was still going as hard as she could, but her limbs were growing heavy, her movements sluggish. She had no idea if Dziban was still chasing her. Her feet skidded on the slick, squishy floor and she let out a cry of alarm, overbalancing and falling flat on her stomach.

The janitor had warned her that she'd be trapped if the hellmouth died before she made it back to the living world, she had to get up, she had to get up!

A gentle hand took hers, the other taking her under the elbow and pulling her to her feet. Pate blinked, wondering if she was seeing things.

"Beej?!"

It wasn't him, though it looked a lot like him. It must be one of the clones, like he'd made when Rigel first appeared in her bathroom so long ago. The clone smiled, then glared over her shoulder. Something behind her was growling, rapid footfalls in the wet floor coming closer. He tugged her forward, gave her back a shove and charged back down the hellmouth's throat to intercept Dziban.

Pate kept running, slipping every now and then, as another clone ran past her, and then another, the hellhound snarling and shrieking and growling all the while.

There was something ahead: a bright, jagged crescent of brilliant light, the exit! It hadn't closed! She could see him, oh God, he was there, silhouetted at the mouth! A hysterical, joyful, relieved laugh left her breathless lungs as she pelted for the light.

"Beej!"

⁂

Sagging against the increasing pressure from above and below him, Beetlejuice was on the verge of giving up, giving in to the hopelessness of the situation. The hellmouth’s tremors had increased, and deep, pained moans filled the air; he was going to have to make a decision to go in or get out, and soon.

He pushed against the upper jaw. It didn’t budge. Exhausted and alone, his tentacles slowly relaxing, he thought it would be okay if this was the end. They’d stopped Rigel. Pate had stopped Rigel, and now she was gone, and it would be okay to be gone too.

But from somewhere deep in the beast’s throat, a sound echoed up. It wasn’t the endless death rattle of the hellmouth; it had the faint, rhythmic sound of  . . . footsteps? Scrambling, desperate footsteps? He strained to hear more over the dying hellmouth’s lament, and deeper, there was a new sound: snarls and growls and the horrible twittering laughter of Dziban.

Without a second thought, he sent clone after clone straight down the hellmouth’s throat. Maybe it was only Dziban clawing its way back up the throat to finish him off, but maybe the ‘hound had different quarry . . .

He waited, holding non-existent breath, for an eternity of moments. Then, from deep inside, he heard a faint, “Beej?”

He almost screamed in joy. “Pate! PATE!”

After another few seconds of straining, he could just barely see her in the reddish glow of the hellmouth’s throat. There was a clone with her, but as the shrieking from Dziban increased, the clone gave her a push and retreated back further into the gloom to help hold off the minor demon. Pate scrambled on the slick, undulating surface of the dying hellmouth’s throat, and he continued to yell for her.

On her hands and knees, grabbing fistfuls of flesh to help pull herself along, she made it to the back of the hellmouth’s tongue. Beetlejuice couldn’t force the jaws open any wider, but he let two tentacles give up trying to hold it open to reach for her. The reduced counter against the hellmouth allowed it to close another few inches.

“Hurry Pate!” he wheezed, as the tentacles wrapped around her wrists and forearms. She was hard to hold, covered in slime.

Danger below threatening to tear them apart and danger above threatening to trap them, he risked losing what little leverage he had by straining further into the beast’s mouth. One more tentacle trying to reach her wasn’t going to make the difference, right? He sent one last one off the hellmouth’s hard palate to her, flexing hard, just able to reach under her arm to wrap around her back to the opposite shoulder.

With extreme effort, he dragged her upward and forward. She helped too, pushing off and scrabbling, and with the cries of the fight against Dziban still echoing behind her and the underlying moan of the hellmouth, he pulled her to him, grasping her hands with his own.

One last bit of twisting, and Beetlejuice pushed himself backwards out from between the teeth, Pate held tightly to his chest, back into the Nevada desert.

Released, the hellmouth finally snapped shut again. He lost some tentacles that weren’t fast enough to get out from between the teeth. His clones were still down in that maw. All that was nothing. Nothing. Rigel was gone. Dziban was gone. Pate was with him. They were free.

A blast of air wafted over them as the hellmouth’s jaw snapped shut one final time, hot and oppressive and smelling of decay and burnt flesh. Pate pressed her face into Beetlejuice’s chest, burying herself in the scent of him; dried funerary flowers and damp soil, dead leaves and a faintly musty smell like old paper. She was vaguely aware of her arms trembling where they were wound tight around his middle, under his jacket, her hands gripping the back of his dress shirt.

The rumbling ground beneath them went still, the hellmouth’s death throes went quiet and she finally let out the breath she’d been holding in a long, shaky whoosh against his sternum. Only then did she stir against him, prying herself just far enough away to look Beetlejuice over.

His tentacles were still wrapped around her, as were his arms, as though he were afraid if he let go she would slip out of his grasp. Several of them, she noted, were curled close to his body, their ends shorn by the hellmouth’s teeth. The shoulder of his jacket was ripped and bloodied again from Rigel’s dirty fighting, and there was hellmouth saliva dripping from his hair, down one cheek, splattered on his clothes.

Pate surged upward on her tiptoes, pressing herself against him, gripping him around the middle as she kissed him everywhere she could reach; his lips, his cheeks, his neck, laughing, hardly daring to believe that it was over and they had made it out together.

His severed tentacles left an ache in him, but it wasn't like he was going to skip on down to the Netherworld to see about getting them cauterized or patched up. Maybe someday he'd deal with them. They'd fester until then, but it wasn't something he couldn't handle. As they were dripping ichor, he willed them all away, and stood with his normal hands around Pate under the blazing sun.

He took her hand and rotated it, pressing a kiss into her palm.

"My darling brother's mark is fading," he told her, rubbing his thumb over the sigil. It flaked off, leaving her skin clean. "You fulfilled your part of the contract when you handed the book to him. He has no claim on you, baby."

She smiled, a swelling feeling in her chest like a balloon inflating as she watched him kiss her hand. Sagging against him, awash in relief and exhaustion, she nuzzled his soiled shirt with her equally soiled face.

"What about you?" she inquired. "Your shoulder's bleeding again, and your tentacles? Will they grow back? And . . . shit, your clones are still down there?"

"I'll be fine," he half-lied. "Don't worry about me."

Pate cast an eye over her shoulder, unwilling to part from him to look at what remained of the hellmouth. It had decayed at a supernaturally rapid rate, already nothing more than an enormous ancient skull that was on the cusp of crumbling into dust. She reached up, brushing away a gob of congealing saliva from his jaw, cupping his face. A thought occurred to her and she chuckled.

"Y'know, they say once is an accident, twice is coincidence, three times is a pattern. Horrifying danger followed by mind blowing sex might just be our thing now, baby."

He leaned into her hand, despite the fact that it was now covered in the tacky saliva. "Let's just get back to the hotel. Believe it or not, I want to clean up. Then we can see where being naked together in a shower might go, baby."

With that, he took her hand and led her back to the car.

 tbc . . .

[headfulloffantasies]

Absent Destiny (chapter 8)

Azarel was gone.

Duke tore the apartment asunder. Books flew off shelves, closets were ripped open, curtains sheared off their hangings. The angel was nowhere to be found. Duke clutched frantically at his hair, spinning in circles in Azarel’s bedroom. He couldn’t lose the angel. Not now. He’d only collected one measly little vial of angel blood. There was so much more that could be accomplished, not to mention information to be gathered.

A sudden glint of gold on the bed caught his eye. A feather was poking out from under the pillow. Curious, Duke lifted the pillow. Underneath was a nest of feathers, gathered into a careful pile and hidden safely away. Duke brushed a finger across one of them and realised that all of them were damaged. A handful were twisted, scorched skeletons of their brothers. This pinion here was bent almost in two. These over here were shorn and mangy. Azarel had been grooming his wings, Duke realised. Removing the damaged feathers to make way for new growth. In Heaven, grooming was a communal past time. It was a show of trust and love to let someone else help you with your wings. The sudden jolt of memory soured in Duke’s stomach. He remembered sliding fingers gently through his brothers’ plumage, removing imperfections with care, and straightening out snags. The calm and the trust had come with soaring joy that felt tainted and marred now.

Azarel clearly hadn’t known what to do with the feathers he had preened. Hiding them under his pillow struck Duke as childishly innocent. He had to find the angel before Azarel got himself killed.

Duke snatched up a handful of feathers and teleported to his library. He was too agitated to pretend to be human by doing something as unnecessary as walking right now. Even as he ripped books off the shelves he could feel his demonic visage shredding through his illusions. Duke snatched up the desired book at last with a hand that was composed of more claws than fingers. He slammed it down onto the reading table with more vigor than necessary. The crumbling, ancient pages almost tore under his frantic leafing. The locating spell was effective, if extremely simple. Even a human witch could perform it.

Duke laid out the feathers he’d pilfered into a pile and scratched a hurried pentagram into the wood of the desktop. Duke slapped a map of the city on top on the inverted star. Four candles representing the four directions materialised and lit themselves as Duke mumbled the incantation. He scooped up Azarel’s feathers and strew them across the map. The feathers went up in a flash of light, more dramatic than necessary. Only one was left un-scorched. It stuck resolutely to a spot indicating a street corner only five blocks away.

Duke stared at the location, dumbfounded. Shouldn’t the angel be farther away than that? The feather was still, meaning that Azarel wasn’t moving. What was he doing on a random street corner within walking distance from Duke’s apartment? Duke poked the feather dubiously, wondering if something was wrong with the spell. The feather clung magically to the spot.

Shrugging, Duke transported himself to the location. He was immediately surprised to find it was night. The spell had taken hours longer than he’d expected. The darkness pressed malevolently against the dingy alleyway. Broken bottles were scattered in the corners and a dumpster sat heavy and sad at the entrance to the dirty brick passage. Duke curled his lip in distaste at the wet stench. He was a demon of class; he didn’t delve into the muck of humanity if he could help it.

It was immediately obvious he was in the right place. A steady mumbling of prayer was wafting up from this place. It rolled in seasick swirls through Duke’s guts. The holy words, a simple benediction of praise, caused a tiny sledgehammer to begin pounding against Duke’s skull. The angel was clearly here, if only Duke’s eyes would adjust to this infernal blackness.

He almost tripped over Azarel. The angel was huddled into the shadow of the dumpster. Duke cursed and the angel went quiet.

“What are you doing?” Duke snarled, kicking aside a scrap of filth.

Azarel didn’t answer. He was sitting with his head tipped back and staring up at the sliver of sky visible between the buildings. The jeans Duke had lent him were torn at the knees and dirty. Duke could only imagine what the angel had been getting up to all day while Duke tried to track him down. The naive winger probably tried to tell everyone on the street he really was an angel of the Lord. Duke snorted and inspected the angel closer. He seemed alright, though he was shivering against the cold and had his arms wrapped around himself for warmth. Suddenly, Duke noticed the angel was barefoot. If he focused, Duke could detect the sharp smell of dried blood on the soles of Azarel’s feet.

“Are you going to kill me now?” Azarel asked quietly. His voice was so devoid of emotion it startled Duke. Duke growled low in throat. The angel had been nothing but a giant pain in the backside. Duke was beginning to think the only way to control him would be to lock him up and throw away the key.

“You seem very fixated on dying. You are unfortunately worth more to me alive, however.” Duke grumbled. He kicked half heartedly at Azarel’s leg. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see the stars.” Azarel said suddenly. He sighed, leaning his head back against the filthy brick. “But I forgot you can’t see the stars from the cities.”

“Aren’t human buildings revolting.” Duke agreed.

“Says the one helped build a palace only to realise you built it too small.” Azarel shot back.

“Pandemonium was a beautiful work of architecture!” Duke defended. “Milton didn’t do it justice. And we did fit, once we’d all shrunk.”

Azarel sniffed suddenly. It was a wet, sick, human sound of misery. Duke considered the pathetic shivering mass before him. His anger and frustration was still simmering below the surface. The angel should be punished for running away. Duke could turn the angel inside out. He could tear the wings viscerally from his back. He could rip out the angel’s eyes and feed them to him. Instead, Duke lowered himself to the wet ground and settled beside the angel to look up at the muted night sky.

“Do you remember watching the stars being formed, brother?” Azarel asked softly.

Duke’s stomach twisted with horrible gore. “No.” It was a lie. He remembered watching the word of God become incarnate. The way the very cosmos responded to the Creator’s voice. Perfection and chaos in the same moment. The light breaching the dark. It was… beautiful. Duke hadn’t let himself think about it in millenniums.

“Why weren’t you praying for help?” Duke asked suddenly.

Azarel jerked as if he’d slapped him. “What do you mean?” He said evasively.

Duke snorted. “You were free. You should have called out for help. A whole legion of feathered holiness could have been here in an instant. Why not?”

Azarel didn’t answer. He stared down at his hands, twisting his fingers together. Duke recognised the same gesture Sharon had made. She’d been nervous and afraid, and so was Azarel. But despite his immense power, Duke didn’t think Azarel was afraid of him.

There was so much about this angel that didn’t add up. Why had he not called for help the dozens of times he’d been alone? Why did he not run now? And why had he been hanging from those telephone wires in the first place? The clues kept coming in slow spurts, but Duke still didn’t have enough to paint a full picture. Azarel was afraid of something other than the demon who was keeping him captive. Azarel had been injured with the blade of an angel. And he was unwilling to call on Heaven for aid.

An inkling of an idea was forming in Duke’s twisted mind.

“What did you do?” He asked in a hushed voice.

Azarel turned on him with a snarl. “Do not pretend you care, demon.”

The angel’s insolence should have envoked Duke’s wrath, but he was surprised that instead, the spitting flame of ire inside sputtered and died. He was left feeling very tired.

“Whatever you did can’t have been so bad. You are not Fallen.” Duke gestured to the wings shivering against Azarel’s back. “Yet.” He couldn’t resist adding with a leer.

Azarel grumbled under his breath, but his wings twitched in a reassured manner.

A car suddenly rolled past the entrance to the alley. Its wide lights cast a pool of golden light across the disgusting black tarmac. Duke waited until the car passed. Then he straightened up, adjusting his indigo blazer.

“Time to go, darling.” Azarel didn’t have time to protest before Duke grabbed his frigid arm and transported them back to Duke’s apartment.

“Well this is a surprise.” A voice said as they reappeared in Duke’s living room. Duke whirled around.

A dark haired man slouched carelessly on Duke’s couch. The intruder grinned, revealing a row of razor sharp teeth.

“How about you introduce me to your friend, Duke.” The demon said.

Thanks for reading! New chapters go up every wednesday. 

If you like what you read, buy me a coffee: <a href='https://ko-fi.com/X8X57CMS'>Buy Me a Coffee</a>

Chapter 1:https://headfulloffantasies.tumblr.com/post/168737965761/absent-destiny-part-1

Chapter 2: https://headfulloffantasies.tumblr.com/post/168738505686/absent-destiny-chapter-2

Chapter 3: https://headfulloffantasies.tumblr.com/post/168768948806/absent-destiny-chapter-3

Chapter 4: https://headfulloffantasies.tumblr.com/post/168999971505/absent-destiny-chapter-4

Chapter 5: https://headfulloffantasies.tumblr.com/post/169285437763/absent-destiny-chapter-5

Chapter 6: https://headfulloffantasies.tumblr.com/post/169560617300/absent-destiny-chapter-6

Chapter 7: https://headfulloffantasies.tumblr.com/post/169834066614/absent-destiny-chapter-7

Chapter 8 you are here

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16