#shaking in fear like a fragile chihuahua

[hyunpic]

[occamstfs]

Keep On Trucking

Jonah thought he'd hate the rental truck he got when he flew back home. But after throwing on a hat he found in the cabin it seems like he's liking the thing more with every passing mile.

Thought we could do with some more sentimental southerner TFs so here we are ! Happy surprise that it coincides with a certain Texan AOTY ;) Sweaty, strong, and sweet, hope you enjoy Jonah's journey to a new home in the country! -Occam

It must be some form of cosmic comedy that Jonah’s only rental option was this wretched gas-guzzling juggernaut. Sitting a good fair few feet above every other car on the road, the truck that’s been foisted onto him simply demands attention. There’s a tight-lipped grimace on his face as the laundry list of insults he’s hurled at people who drive these fragile masculinity-mobiles over the years rush through his mind.

He’d never say them to a driver of course, both from a general fear of confrontation and a healthy fear of large loud men. His insults thrown never escape the glass panes of his Elantra. Nothing more than playful jibes to help work through the fear of sharing the road with drivers who could literally roll over him, and oft seem to want to. Just barking self-soothingly, like a chihuahua at a caged great dane.

His self-consciousness at plowing down the highway is interrupted however as a small car quite similar to the one he drives back at home veers towards him. Thankfully the road is not too crowded as he swerves to avoid the red speed-demon who flips him off before shooting ahead, surging into the distance to escape the sound of Jonah’s horn blaring. 

The nervous young man clutches at his shirt as he feels his pulse in his head. Eventually he sees the red pinpricks of brake lights disappear and his hands stop shaking from the near-collision. Sighing, he tries to steady his breathing and hopes the rest of his nerves will follow suit. Only then does the strangest thought occur to him ‘Thank god I was driving a truck.’

Jonah rubs his smooth jaw and grumbles to himself, “I guess there are some upsides to driving a freakin’ tank, ugh.” As he puts it to words he can’t help but continue thinking on the matter, besides maniacs like that little punk, people are probably way more likely to respect me on the road driving this thing. He wistfully stares at the road ahead lost in thought, though before taking the leap further to the lofty thoughts that people are more likely to respect his masculinity and authority in this beast, he shakes it off and clears his throat.

“Ugh I need a coffee or something.” Squirming in the seat slightly, only then does he notice the continued discomfort from his brush with danger; He’s sweating up a storm. Cranking up the AC as high as it goes he wipes his brow and tries to push sweaty hair out from his face. When a heavy drop falls into his eyes causing him to shout a hearty “fuck!” He pulls over to the side of the road and searches for a headband or something to solve this issue, “God why’s it so hot in here!”

Looking down at his now clearly sweat-stained shirt he groans, no way is he going to show up to his hometown friend’s party looking like such a slob. He briefly considers using the sweaty top to hold back his hair but thinks better of it, giving it a sniff he finds his deodorant has not been nearly as effective as it usually is. Frowning and going straight to the source he smells his pit and immediately cringes away, “Man what is up with me today? It’s like I forgot to put it on.”

Distracted by his strange overheating, the still-present need for a headband, and now wondering what on Earth he’s going to wear to his friend’s, Jonah doesn’t notice how, beyond the bizarrely more powerful scent, he has begun to change. The few thin curls in his armpit have multiplied without his notice, stretching longer and spreading beyond their usually trimmed patch. Each new strand drips with sweat, permeating his new musk as he scrambles about the cabin looking for some bandana or hat.

“Duuuuub-” Jonah’s hand bumps into the brim of a hat which he quickly yanks out from the dark recesses of the rental truck only to tilt his head as finding a tacky camo baseball cap, “eugh-” After rubbing his hand through his sweaty hair once more, he grimaces and throws it on anyway, “sorry to whoever's hat this is-” It’s not like he’s going to be seen in the kitschy backwater cosplay, he just needs to make it to a store or somewhere where he can buy a shirt and hair tie, then he’ll be scot-free.

Checking the time with a gasp he returns to the open road without much thought at all, leaving him totally unaware as his hair begins to creep into the cap. Long dirty blonde curls shorn to almost nothing, shortening into some short masc choppy look that doesn’t even have a name. Far from his mind’s eye the idea of going to a barber for years buries itself and begins spreading tendrils towards other inactive memories, “Been a few weeks Rob- Just give me the usual.” Were he to picture the memory he would surely see a man who is not himself in the mirror.

The mirror? His eyes glance to his rearview and he gasps as he sees it’s suddenly angled way off. His usual anxiety quickly makes itself known in his sweaty chest. Eyes wide and on the road he doesn’t look down to catch as each quivering heartbeat leaves his chest wider, sticking out further as disparate strands of muscle begin to bulge. In the few half-seconds of him checking his other mirrors Jonah’s chest begins packing on quite the impressive pecs. “Musta- er Must’ve bumped it or, something?”

Going to adjust the mirror his usually careful hand forcefully bumps into it, grunting he wonders how. He didn’t even lean forward, which he knows he had to do when he first got in the truck. His arm would have to be almost half a foot longer. Throwing his hazards on he quickly pulls over once more, again neglecting to notice his changed hair in the mirror as he instead gasps in shock as he sees the arm of a behemoth dangling from his shoulder. 

In the minute since throwing on the ratty ball cap his arms have begun to grow. Every twitching movement on the wheel, every extension, even the slightest adjustment of his now less-than delicate fingers has been sending waves of change across forearms to which the idea of muscle definition is anathema. His mouth falls open as he takes notice of biceps that would have easily erupted from the sweat-stained shirt he had on, or rather, any shirt he owns. 

Jonah tries to process the meaty hands at the end of meatier arms, staring at the movement of individual muscle fibers under tight, suddenly tanned skin. He gulps as he sees them twitch with every accidental movement, power he can hardly understand coursing through them. His lip quivers into a grin as the idea occurs to flex them and he raises his arm to do so, exposing his tangle of pit hair and allowing sweat to drip down his chest.

Though just before getting the chance to truly indulge and delight, feeling the cold rivulet racing down his side he looks down to discover the new weight hanging on his chest. His eyes shimmer with wonder as he stares at pecs as sculpted as Michelangelo’s David now bulge from under his neck as it too thickens with another harsh swallow. His voice drops while his rougher hands go to cup his pecs, rubbing the few apparently shaved hairs as they begin their regrowth.

Despite his usual lucidity and rationality, something about seeing the rugged arms and chest of a man twice his size, something about feeling the strain of new biceps moving or seeing his handful of almost invisible chest hairs darkening alongside a congregation of new curls, his mind is awash with instincts that don’t seem his own. He smirks as he looks at his reflection in the now-adjusted mirror, higher in the seat both from his body lengthening as well as from sitting straighter with pride, he scratches at the stubble appearing on his chin and turns back to the road thicker brows furrowed into a cocky sneer, “They’re gonna be all fuckin’ over me at this party.”

Dragging his attention from his bulking body back to the road, Jonah can’t help but continue thinking about what a stud he’s becoming, what a stud he is. So focused on the strength ambient within him, delighting on the sensations coursing through him as he playfully flexes his arms and chest, that he hasn’t chance to notice his thoughts truly changing alongside his form. Suddenly a Texas-shaped bottle opener dangles from the set of keys that look far too beat up for a rental company to hand out. Obviously of course, why would a rental company have his truck?

One hand on the steering wheel, Jonah can no longer resist groping at the growing bulge that strains his pants. While it’s been certainly hard since the first glimpse of his bulging bicep, as his pride grows so does what may as well be the source of his masculinity. With each clumsy rub and grasp of his package as it threatens to break free from his pants, he continues to become the man to match his apparent wheels.

So too does his truck slightly shift to perfectly display the man that now identifies as its owner. The floorboard where a ball cap was hidden is littered with detritus from living in the country. Dirt paints the once spotless chassis of the vehicle and at the same time, hair thickens on his form as pubes inch above their brief containment, connecting with a treasure trail that begs to expand.

His balls throb as his once imperceptible treasure trail indeed races to cover the whole of his stomach before racing up to a chest that yields to its own mouth-watering pattern of fur. Pits still dripping with sweat lengthen and spread tantalizingly close to meeting with his garden of chest hair.

Jonah grunts as his new bulge grows large enough that the constriction is outright painful. Freeing his impressive rod it becomes clear that his accusations of redneck truckers compensating could not be further from the truth, in his case that is. His seat creaks under his weight as he squirms to pull his pants down to his knees, freeing bulkier thighs and a perfect bubble butt as both are similarly painted with haphazard brushes of hair. Inner thighs coated with curls add to the rugged forest around his pre-dripping package while new curls on his ass tickle against his warm, sweat-covered seat.

Halfway to masturbating he bites his lip as he tries to restrain his desires and continue driving, though the pushing down of his rigid rod so easily shifts to tugs and thrusts. His sticky, wanting breaths fertilize the growth of stubble on his face that will never vacate and a mustache sticking to his upper lip that will always be just a tad thicker. Meanwhile his calloused hands continue to tantalize a cock  edging closer to a release that he will not let yet arrive. Moaning from the intense need of his loins he grits his teeth and powers down the road voice deep and clearly accented as he whispers to himself, “Gotta save mah spunk for the party…”

Still with each slow grasp and pull towards release, his form continues to pack on weight and slick with denser forests of hair. So too does his outfit change to match his new life, with each half-thrust into his hand the brim on his hat widens, its cheap camo-green fading as it becomes a Stetson that any man of his stature demands. Slightly dressy pants stain blue and roughen into jeans while his shirt disappears entirely.

Finally, shoes that have given up the ghost long ago to feet that would cause anyone’s eyes to widen begin staining brown and reforming. Long, hairy toes that stick out from the once tennis shoes are corralled into the dark, expensive leather of genuine cowboy boots. The new soles click against the pedals of his truck and his thicker brows continue to furrow as he struggles not to cum at the sound of his beast rumbling down the road.

At long last Jonah comes up on the turn to his friend’s little shindig and he sighs in relief at making it before he spills a load on himself. Turning down a long dirt driveway he narrows his eyes as he feels something amiss, would’ve sworn his friend lived in a suburb or somethin’. But then he blinks and remembers obviously not. His boys’d never wanna share their streets with self-important, pretentious pricks. 

Parking in the grass alongside a handful of other trucks, Jonah grunts as he forces his cock down his jeans, its outline quite the clarion call down his pant leg. Buttoning up and cinching a gaudy belt-buckle, Jonah steps out into the party, grabbing a couple of six packs of Lone Star and waddles over to the gathered crew. Taking a deep breath of the cold dusk air as the sun begins to sink past the horizon, though beneath the smell of the woods there is a clear undercurrent of sweaty bodies and something richer, saliter.

Depositing beers that were once a host’s gift and some seltzers, Jonah turns to be greeted by cheers of burly men that seem to have already paired off. Scratching his stubble as he looks for his own quarry his eyes alight onto one shy looking twink standing to the side. Seems he didn’t get the memo that this isn’t some post-ironic gathering, not even wearing a cowboy hat. 

More than ready for some fun, Jonah grabs a discarded hat on the table and wanders over to the lone man. The twink eyes him with a wry smile as he can’t miss the obviously altered gait, they then widen when he recognizes the man as Jonah, “J- Jonah!?” his mouth drops open and his eyes glaze over as something readjusts, “You’ve really, uhm- filled out?” Though even as he says it the idea of the late-comer looking any different than this seems incorrect. 

Jonah ignores the man, Anton, and deposits the hat on his head, leaning down he whispers in his ear, “Evenin’ Ant. You wanna go have some fun?” Anton’s mouth waters as the larger man stands close enough to wash him in musk before deliberately jabbing him with his thick bulge. He babbles something as the new hat blurs his thoughts a tad though it’s more than clear that the thin man, bored out of his mind, has been looking for excitement that only Jonah could bring all night.

Arm around Anton’s shoulder, Jonah escorts him to the back of the nearby barn, already littered with cans and clearly stained by haphazard bodily fluids. Neither man cares as they begin to use the wall just as seemingly every party-goer before them has. Jonah pushes him against the wall and the pair indulge in each other as if there were nothing else in the world. The hat falls from Ant’s head as he begins to change with or without it. His trimmed pubes rapidly stretch above his hairless waistline, racing to connect with chest hair that isn’t even there yet.

His waxed face scratches against Jonah’s itchy jaw and his mouth waters with hunger and jealousy. Before he can even consciously wish for something similar, his own face is overcome with the burning sensation of pores expanding into stubble that has never been given the chance to seed bursting forth. Soon enough his entire face is overtaken by thick lancing curls of a beard. After not much time at all the pair are worked up enough that making out is not nearly enough.

Even as his suitor puts on weight and muscle mass, Jonah easily hoists him up and finally makes use of his new heavy cock. It’s not clear how long the pair exercise their new forms behind the barn. Ant’s rushed initiation into the world of assless chaps and hairy backs and Jonah’s final steps into the hard-working world of farm living last forever and no time at all. Though by the end both men are thoroughly consumed by their new hairy, muscled selves. 

Their hairy bodies rub against each other as new lives together bloom in their minds. Maintaining a small homestead in the town they grew up in, often traveling into the nearby city to show city-folk that country boys ain’t all bad and making it clear to any small minded townies that they better treat their fellow man with respect or get what’s coming to them.

As they reach what must be the apotheosis of their new forms both men lose control at the same time. Awash in the heightened sensation of their new powerful selves and lost in love for each other stronger than they ever thought they’d achieve, Ant and Jonah stumble out from behind the barn.

Ant walking with a gait that can only mean one thing since they certainly weren’t horseback riding. The pair are jeered at by their fellow country queers and finally enjoy the party. It’s a joyous celebration of the first day of the rest of their lives surrounded by their fellow odd folk. When Jonah’s eyes fall back upon the truck he’s been driving for bout a decade now he can’t help but smile in contentment. She ain’t the prettiest wagon in the west, but she got him here. Surrounded by butches and bears alike Wade sits on a bench and pulls his man onto his lap, “Gonna be a good night Ant.” The pair crack open beers and drink in the new world around them, eager to see what their lives together have in store.

[asgardianangel]

Sugar life-Two

Warnings: 18+smut Lalo being a psycho sugar daddy again, little dark, reader kinda gone crazy, switch, angst, rough sex, riding in the bath

The cracking of the fireplace was therapeutic as the warmth hit your body. Almost taking away the uneasiness of Lalo’s presence as you lay your head on his lap watching the movement of the flames. 

“Are you going to be good baby?” He asked running his fingers through your h/c hair his voice came by after spending half an hour in complete silence  

You sniffed quietly still looking at the fireplace “I expect an answer querida” he ordered going a bit rough with the stroking. You look up at him seeing the reflection of gold from the flames in his auburn eyes. Lalo smirk at you looking like a depiction of the devil himself.  

Expect he was.  

“I will be good” You replied shaking his frightening appearance off. 

“Good girl” He praised taking a sip of his blood red wine savouring the taste. Putting the glass down on the table with a clink. “Now I got some business to take care of I’ll tell Nachito to run you a relaxing bath you seem on edge baby” You sat up fiddling with the blanket that covered you. Lalo got up to leave the living room “And you never know I might join you” He cheekily teased with a wink.  

You shuddered with both fear and undescribed arousal. These last few days you felt all sorts of emotions swive Lalo was an evil drug trafficker and even worse a murderer and yet you still saw the spark of the generous older man who you will admit you started to fall for.  

‘The Salamanca name is most feared in the cartel mi amor and you're with the very best. No man will ever threaten you as long as I'm around’ You remember his dark chuckle after that statement. 

Conflict that what it was in the hands of the wolf in sheep’s clothing. Lalo Salamanca. 

Getting up for the couch felt like it took a lot of energy from you wrapping the cosy blanket around your fragile body. Walking through his home in Chihuahua made you feel more vulnerable especially since Lalo’s ‘good guy’ (he calls it) façade came off you wished you could return to your home in Alburquerque but for that reason he extended the stay. 

Stepping upstairs you headed towards the master bedroom shutting the door behind you so you were alone you looked at yourself in mirror. “I need to get out of here” you said in such hopefulness  

There was a knock at the door. 

You open it to see Ignacio standing there with the look of the concern. “Your bath is almost done are you okay y/n?” He asked.  

“I'm okay thanks” You lied. Ignacio shakes his head looking at you 

“That’s a stupid question to ask obviously you're not.” You sniffed nodding. 

Ignacio looks behind him nervously “I’m going to help you get out here, okay?” He said in a whisper. 

You were slightly taken back by his words. Is this a trick? Orchestrated by Lalo himself to see if you would escape him at every given moment. 

“How can I trust you? You're his right-hand man” You lightly exclaimed not wanting anyone to hear. 

“Trust me y/n we are on the same boat I hate him as much as you do.” He states quietly 

“Bu-” You were cut off by Ignacio’s hands on your shoulders. “Listen to me y/n I’m going help you but you got trust me and act natural flatter him. Let him think your still his” Ignacio instructed softly 

“What if he kills me, Ignacio?” Thinking of the situation you dreaded the most  

“He won’t listen you need to trust me on this one” 

“But-” 

“He’s in love with you Y/N or at least he thinks he is” 

You had no words. Not knowing if Lalo being in love with you was good thing or bad thing. Is he really capable of loving someone? You thought. During the time you have spent with Lalo you felt yourself coming closer to loving him at least the romantic caring version he was portraying. Dreaming of a night where the L word would drift from his heart to yours. But come to the unbearable understanding he didn’t even have a heart to begin with.  

You let out a little laugh 

“Loves me? He never had a heart” You stated 

Ignacio nodded looking down “I can help us get out please trust me” 

“Okay” You sighed in defeat 

“Good. He can’t know about our conversation, okay?” 

You nod lightly sniffing a little “now relax in that bath I promise everything is going be okay” 

Taking his word, you closed the door with a gentle goodbye. Everything was quiet as you walked into the fined tiled bathroom that was attached to the master bedroom. You admired the candlelight that outlined the spacious tub as you unwrapped the blanket from your body before taking off the white button up that Lalo gave you fall to your feet. Once bare you stepped into the bath with a slight wince at the hot water bracing yourself in. Lavander embraced your senses as the bubbles sway around you.  

Closing your eyes and letting the madness all go away or so you thought. 

A creak of the door broke the sweet silence then the voice that made your stomach turn “Got room in there for one more princesa?” Lalo asked by the door darkness indulged him you could only make out his huge figure. 

“I thought you had business to attend to Lalo?” Even in the warmth of the water you felt a slight chill run down your spine. “Well, it was cut short and I’m happy it was querida.” He said in a rather cheerful tone as he stepped closer to the tub his menacing appearance brighten by the candle light. Lalo sighed running his hand through the grey streak in his hair.  

“Sooo can I join?” He asked playfully dipping his hand in the water before holding your chin so you were looking at him “You are just so beautiful baby” You couldn’t help the faint blush that appeared on your cheeks. Why is he like this? You thought closing eyes and started pushing your back against the golden taps. The faint sound of Lalo’s humming and the rustling of clothes made you want to sink your entire self into the water and stay there. 

He sat down in the tub gazing at you before splashing some water on his face. His wet hair sticking up a bit You tried not look at him focusing yourself on the candles that burned around you both. “Something on your mind?” Lalo asked trying get your attention by waving his hand in front of you. “Hm no just tired I guess” you shift in the water with a faint smile. Eyes meeting his bare chest for a man his age his body never fails to impress you.  

Trying shake off the memory of the night he took you to bed for the first time. The hunger in his eyes as he stripped off in front you everything about him made you so aroused from the tribal tattoo on his arm to the little spurts of hair on his quite muscular torso. You never wanted someone so badly. He was so gentle with you that night as you weren’t used to a big man like him.  

“You are still scared of me, aren’t you?” His lips curved into a slight smirk.  

Yeah, no shit I’m sitting in the bath with a murderous drug lord. 

“Yes, I am Lalo” The honestly shone through you.  

His expression was sympathetic but then he laughed a little like it was funny to him. “It’s very obvious to me just wanted to see if you were honest with me baby.”  Drifting his fingers across the flame of one of the candles. 

“Like I said that night I would never hurt you y/n. We really have a lot to work on.” You casted your eyes unsure what to say.  He laughed again “c’mon you look like a scared little kitten around me” Lalo tusks making you annoyed. 

 At this point you no longer cared what Ignacio said about ‘acting natural’ you just wanted to get away from him. So, you stood up allowing Lalo to get an eye full of the body he knows so well. But he was quick to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you back down into the water “Where do you think you're going huh?” He asked in an amused tone. 

“Away from you" You huffed as Lalo chuckled “Aw poor baby I’m sorry for calling you a kitten” He could see the annoyance in your face “Can I just leave please?” You beg pushing your knees in front of you like a child.   

“Aw querida” Lalo drew closer to you in the water rubbing your cheek smiling as a few tears streak your face. “Turn your back to me baby” He softly instructed. You felt hopeless as you obeyed him. His arms wrapped around your waist more gently this time and pulled you to his chest. Caging you against him “Look at me kitten” Lalo ordered after he pulled the tie from your hair letting it fall. You looked at him in the eyes tucking your hair behind your ears.  

There was that spark again the man you met at the bar that night looking back at you. Warm brown eyes and lips curling into a warm smile.  

His hands gently moved up your waist to welcome of your breasts. Kneading them before kissing you with so much need. Lalo groans as you pulled away from him getting up on your knees “You are so used to power, aren’t you?” He bites his lip gazing at your breasts above the water “I may be born into it querida but I have made sure my family kept it.” You sighed Lalo continued “Just make money. How else am I going keep my princesa pampered hm? I killed for you” he chuckled. This man killed so many people and ruined so many lives and thinks it’s the most hilarious thing ever. His hand cupped your chin ready to kiss you again but you were quick to slap it away moving back to against the end of the tub 

“I hate you” You whisper 

Lalo was taken back by your sudden venom “hate me?” He chuckled pointing to himself. You nod then he smirked before empathising a silent ‘wow’ with his lips.  

“Tell me again” He ordered now you were the one taken back you say it again a bit louder.  

‘Again’ Lalo kept repeating so you say it again louder than before drawing your body closer to him still looking in the eye in hopes he gets the message. 

Your voice bounced off the walls off the fine tile “I fucking hate you Lalo!”  

Your body was almost on his lap and for the last time you were going say it to his face 

“I fuck-” Gasping as Lalo pulled you completely on his lap you could immediately feel his hard cock slap your thigh. So big and thick. He delved his wanting tongue in your mouth before you could reject. A whine emits from the back of your throat as he grinded you against him feeling the tip almost slip inside you completely.  

“Mi amor feel what you did to me hm?”He asked in a husky tone before his lips roam your collarbone finding that sweet spot forcing a loud moan from you.  

“Fuck that hate baby fuck me” He groaned. You were hypnotised by his sudden submission. The degradation and truth you screamed turned him on so much. Pushing his chest so his back was against the tub you lifted yourself up a bit so he could finally slide inside. Wincing slightly, he always felt like he was tearing you apart. 

Maybe he was mentally and physically you could no longer handle it. 

“Mierda” Lalo cussed as you stared at him getting into a rhythm of bouncing up and down on him. Feeling him tug at your walls as the water splashed around you both your fingers intertwining pulling the chain of his necklace (the mark of the cartel) you fucked him hard making sure his eyes were on yours. 

His hand raised to your throat wanting to grab it but you moved it away “Is this what you want?” You questioned letting go of the chain letting him kiss and suck your tits “oh yes baby mierda” Lalo gasped you pulled the grey streak in his wet hair. 

Moans and groans echoed in the bathroom as well the splashing of bath water. 

His cock pulsed and stretched you out so perfectly as you pounded yourself roughly on the older man. The state of ecstasy was a little frightening making you forget what kind of man you were eagerly fucking. But you didn’t care you were going escape soon enough.  

“I’m so close querida” Lalo whispered in your ear with a hiss the tip of his cock hitting that glorious spot you moaned at the sensation.  

The knots in your stomach became too much you were ready to burst and so you did. Lalo groaned letting his head fall back against the ledge of the tub as his loaded shot into you.  

Panting like dogs in the heat you rested your head on his chest. “I fucking hate you Lalo” 

“I know” He replied playing with your wet hair 

This is so fucked up  

End 

For now... 

Sorry for the long delay what should this become a short series hm? 

Thanks for reading  

[grimoire-of-seven]

DRABBLE: Sweet Tooth for Three

Rating: SFW

Words: 800

Characters: Beelzebub and Belphegor + MC / Gender-Neutral Reader

Notes:  In honor of the twins’ birthday, the attic sandwich club is here to make it all better and fun!  ❤ (ɔˆз(˘▽˘>ԅ( ˘⌣˘)  ❤ 

“Luke.. can I ask you a favor, please?”

Shoving your notes into your bag before strapping it to your shoulders, your eyes darted downward to the little white boy, arms already crossed, shaking his head;

“You know that if you said please, whatever that favor is, it would be difficult to say no to it.”

“Well…” letting your classmates walk out from the room, you soon let out the secret; “Belphie and Beel’s birthday is tomorrow and I have not really bought anything yet to celebrate the occasion.”

“Their birthday? Demons celebrate their birthdays?”

You did not think of that..

“I do not know.. Do angels, do?”

Rendering only an awkward silence to a particular dim-witted question, Luke rolled his eyes, his arms loosing themselves from the knot as his little petite hand rubbed his chin.

“And now.. you want me to go shopping with you?”

“No..” Taking a seat, considering how looking down to a child-looking angel could be tiring for your neck, your voice soon lowered down similar to how a secret is shared;

“I was thinking if you could, perhaps.. help me in baking a cake for the twins..”

“Baking a cake?”

“It doesn’t have to be extravagant!” Your voice sending an alarming panic, in fear should the angel decline,  “It is just that I know so little about baking plus if I decided to bake on the house’s kitchen, Beel might sniff and eat my ingredients out before I could even start... Plus! I do not feel like buying since it does not seem sincere to me…”

Taking this moment to breathe in, somehow being with the little angel influencing you to talk too much, your eyes could only reflect a beaming smile;

“You really like my baking so much that you come to me to help you?~”

Nodding, the little man gleamed like the sun, his smile reaching both his ears with dilated eyes as he took hold of your hand, much to your confusion;

“Come on now! You’ll go shopping with me. We got some cake to bake!”

---

Like an infant, precious and fragile, the cake was sheltered in a box and secured by your hands as your toes walked like television in mute.

Yesterday’s challenge was fun and educational. And to think Luke would even go as far as sketching several ideas as to how the cake would be designed. The deliberation was proven difficult by your indecisiveness yet alas, both of you settled to the two-layered cake whose hues are similar to their room, ornated with stars with the sun and moon entwined as the cherry on top.

As for the candles.. Well..

Knowing so little about their age.. you just went on covering the topmost layer with candles that thinking of it now, would be problematic should you try to light them all up while they are still asleep.

Yes, you woke up early to set the whole surprise and it is now all coming to fruition.

---

“Surprise!”

Seeing their eyes widen and dilate with wonder as Luke truly did justice onto making the whole cake a bombshell, by the corner of your eye, you could see Beel drool like a mad man, his gluttony hindered as both twins marveled by how grand the gift was. Even Belphie, who would put anyone waking them to snooze, is definitely much more awake than when caffeinated.

And it is so hard to intervene.

Not to when they are all just so adorable. Like little children who just saw magic for its foremost time.

With three spoons clasped by your hand, you tried wiggling in between, handing over the silver utensil,

“Well.. let’s dig in!”

You could care less about the two digging in, since this is much more of a race with Beel definitely going to consume the gift in two bites, or one if he would share it equally with his twin, and went onto picking up the star-décor fondant by the side.

Chihuahua’s baking skills are heavenly.

“Say ahh!” Looking at your right, the Avatar of Gluttony’s eyes were on your lips, hand curled to catch whatever may fall at a giant heap or serving of cake he took with the silver spoon.

“Eh?”

“Come on. Say ahh.~”

Reluctant at first, considering you have taken a spoonful for yourself, only moments away from eating, your lips surrendered and parted and scooped in the treat, your cheeks warming up to be fed by Gluttony and to see his lips with a charming smile…

This is definitely my treat.

Suddenly, you felt weight put on to your other hand, making your glance over to the source, seeing Belphegor munch and flustered too from being fed with your own spoon.

“Now human,” Belphegor purred to your ears, “say ahh for me.~”

Feeling your hand, held by another, the Avatar of Gluttony added; “Feed me too, human.”

[noctuascion]

cryptage can have a little angst "i need to cry but i don't think i can." AND a little fluff "you didn't have to do that for me." as a treat :D

They can have a little angst. As a treat. Also I'm sorry if I mess up somewhere I'm awful with keeping to the prompts fnsns

--

The sickening crunch of bones being crushed between mechanical fingers seemed to echo for miles around. Everything had gone mute, like sound was sapped from the land around him. There was no gunfire, no battle cries or orders shouted; there was deafening silence that haunted the Legend, paralyzed with a familiar sensation of fear.

A yellow clad corpse was tossed effortlessly aside, like he weighed nothing, like he was nothing. Wide hazel optics followed every movement the body made, falling bonelessly to the ground. The man's body eventually faded to be replaced by a death box, like this was just a game—and it was a game, just a bloodsport; no one died and no one got hurt.

But the information couldn't reach the shaken hacker's mind, frozen body refusing to move even as the simulacrum slowly approached, glowing amber optics focusing on his prey.

"Skinsuits are fragile little things, aren't they?" Revenant said, raising his gun toward Park's prone form, aimed for his head. "Don't worry. It'll only hurt a little."

The hacker hadn't even had the chance to properly process everything before a Peacekeeper shot was heart. However, Revenant had been holding a Flatline, not any shotgun, and the simulacrum was actually now dead on the ground. Reality came crashing back in the form of Makoa Gibraltar, their other teammate. The normally smiling visage was replaced with a look of worry, knelt down beside Park and the hand not wielding the Peacekeeper placed upon his back.

"'Ey, ya okay there? Not like ya ta sit there like a chihuahua," the shielded fortress spoke, and it had just barely reached Park's auditory processors.

Park didn't fear death, and he certainly didn't fear the bucket of bolts now laying dead on the ground, just a death box. He just didn't think he would have to watch Elliott, of all people, he finished off by this creep, didn't have to see his neck get snapped so easily, covered in scarlet and bullet wounds and choking on his own blood.

He's watched Elliott die plenty of times. It was a plethora of ways, of continuous deaths that were always met with very little malice (aside from Alexander and Revenant, of course), but there was something different this time. There was something terrifying about the aspect of Elliott dying in front of him, an assassin completely capable of killing him whenever he wanted being the one to end it, no qualms against it whatsoever.

He shuddered at the thought.

"Hey," Makoa fried again, this time his voice softer. Park's head turned to meet gazes with him. "Ya got this, brudda'. Gotta be brave and get goin'. Revenant's squad is all gone, and he ain't comin' back anytime soon." He delivered a pat to the hacker's back. "I'm gonna grab Mirage's banner. You take a sec to breathe, okay? You're safe and he's safe. Ya got that?"

Park's head nodded, which was enough for Makoa.

"Good! Up 'n at 'em!"

Suddenly, the surveillance expert was being lifted into the air, shocking but not too unexpected, and placed back on the ground gently, like he was some distressed kitten. Makoa flashed him another smile before hurrying over to Elliott's box and fetching his banner. Park, meanwhile, did as Makoa suggested.

He breathed.

— ;

The match afterwards had gone fairly well. Park was still a bit shaken up, but, after seeing Elliott's smiling visage, blood absent from his apparel and body, he calmed down rather quickly and was able to participate in the match with his usual competence. They didn't win, but it was still a good match overall.

Elliott just wasn't fond of the earlier part of the match, having his throat crushed by Revenant. There was a phantom pain where those deadly fingers wrapped around his throat, but, frankly, he, much like everyone else, was far too accustomed to Revenant's and Alexander's methods of killing to be too bothered anymore (Park especially; the killing machine seemed to have some strange fondness for killing him).

After the match, the trickster headed over to his boyfriend's room, the man in question having immediately made a beeline for his quarters and having not been seen since. He missed lunch, and he missed hanging with Ajay and him, so there was likely something wrong. Makoa had mentioned he was shaken up after Revenant had taken him out, and he's worried that Park's beating himself up over it—or worse.

He raised a hand to knock, waiting for the inevitable bout of silence, before, shockingly, he heard a quiet, nearly inaudible, "come in."

Pushing the door open, Elliott was met by darkness. That didn't come as a surprise; Park's room was only illuminated by computer monitors most of the time, and they were currently off (which was an immediate means for concern). The light emitting from the open door allowed Elliott to spot Park's location: curled up on his bed, back against the wall, and eyes focused solemnly on the trickster that had entered his room.

He stepped inside, shutting the door behind him, and once again enveloping the room in darkness. Carefully, he maneuvered his way through Park's room, careful not to trip on any wires, and found his bed. He moved to sit on it, reached over to his nightstand, and flicked the small lamp on. It was still relatively dark, but it was enough to Illuminate the hacker's dour visage.

"Let there be light," Elliott said, hoping to lighten the mood; alas, Park's gloomy demeanor remained. "Okay. What's up, sweetheart? You're depressed, but not usually this bad. You skipped lunch!"

A shrug was his response, a delicate raise of shoulders that could've easily been missed.

"I can't help you if you don't talk to me, baby."

Further silence from the smaller promoted a sigh from the trickster. He moved to sit beside Park instead, his own back pressed against the wall. The hacker remained still, quiet, and, for a moment, so, too, did Elliott. He wasn't one for quiet, however, and began speaking again within moments.

"is it about what happened with Revenant?" he asked, his normally bright and chipper tone replaced with something quiet, almost forlorn. "You don't have to beat yourself up over that, honey bear. You didn't have a weapon, and he's kinda just—a literal weapon."

"… I watched you die…" spoke the other after an elongated silence, Elliott's head snapping to look at the other. He looked ready to start sobbing. "I sat there, frozen in fear, as he broke your neck…"

"Hyeon—"

"He killed you, and it could happen at any moment again…!" the other cried, knees curled tight against his chest, head held within his hands, fingers gripping tightly at raven locks. "And I want to cry. I can feel my eyes stinging because of it, but I just… I just can't…" A deep, shuddering breath was taken, his grip tightening on his hair.

For a moment, silence was once again stifling the air, the only sound being Park's labored breathing. For a moment, Elliott was merely staring, merely watching as his lover came undone before his very eyes. For a moment, he didn't know what to do. He didn't know how to comfort someone who had just watched him die.

"… When I was a kid," Elliott began, Park's head moving to look up at him, curious, "my brothers and I… We were all pretty stupid."

He… never talks about his brothers… Park thought, frowning. Why…?

"One time, we got lost in a crowd. My mom kept shouting for us, kept calling out our names. I couldn't find her or my brothers, and I ended up crying. A lady found me and tried helping me find them. We did find each other, but we all got scolded… a-and that day kinda just sucked in general. I scraped my knee, I didn't get the toy I wanted, I lost my favorite pencil—it just sucked.

"But I remember everyone smiling a lot during that day. I remember the relieved smiles, the laughter, and the warmth. I remember thinking that I could've lost them, so I needed to—to treasure them more, live life knowing I made good memories with my family." A bitter chuckle left him, head moving to lean back against the wall and eyes focusing on the ceiling. "I'm glad I did."

Immediately, Elliott felt arms wrap around his neck, yank him down, and felt his nose press against the other's bony shoulder. Park was shaking, and Elliott couldn't tell if he was crying or not, but he sure as hell was. He could feel the warm liquid trail down his cheek, soak into the hoodie the other was donning. His own arms wrapped around his lover's midsection, pulled him as close as physically possible, and then there was nothing. There were no words uttered, no hysterical sobs nor cries of agony. There was just silence, only healing.

Eventually, Park pulled away enough to look into Elliott's eyes, a half-synthetic hand reaching up to gently brush away a tear. His own eyes were red and puffy, only confirming Elliott suspicions.

"No one's ever taking me away from you," he said, confidence in the statement. "I don't care who they are. I'm not leaving you 'till you physically pry me off yourself." A hand left Park's waist, placing itself upon his cheek, and gently pressing their foreheads together. "I dunno if I'll ever lose you, but everyday's gonna be the day I treasure every moment we're together, every conversation we have. Gonna make you feel like I'll never forget you if you're gone. Gonna make you feel loved and make it known I'll be a fucking wreck if I lose you. I'll kick my own ass for letting someone like you slip away."

Park could feel himself choking on his own words, reduced to nothing but tears by the confession, pouring from his eyes without any sign of stopping. All he could do was press his lips against Elliott's, convey through contact his desperation and adoration, the love he feels and the connection that he refuses to ever let be severed. There was so much pouring out of his heart that, by the end of the kiss, when they broke apart to breathe, he felt like he left a piece of his heart to the other.

It was where it belonged anyway.

"Thank you," the hacker whispered, trying to calm his hiccups, calm the shaking. "You… You didn't need to…"

"I know." Elliott smiled with sadness in his eyes. "But… you're a part of me. Telling you that story… s'just like I'm telling it to myself. I'm visiting memories with the only person I'd ever let see them." Another kiss was pressed to Park's nose this time, a simple way of showing his affection. "I love you so much, darling. Never leaving you alone. I'm here to give you that happily ever after you seem so convinced you're never getting."

Park allowed a smile to replace the look of sadness constantly worn by the man. There was joy in his eyes, endearment swirling with the hazel optics. It was like watching a fire: so enrapturing, so warm and beautiful, dangerous but healing. He was falling in love all over again.

"I love you as well, Elliott."

[bokunodorks]

Hi! uh... can you do the ''home invasion'' scenario you did with Aizawa, but this time with Amajiki? Thanks ❤

There were five days left of summer vacation and only two days until she comes home. He wanted to spend more time with her but was unable to tell her this or stop her from going on the trip because she looked so happy. He couldn’t just lay around and do nothing while waiting for her so when Mirio suggested to go out Tamaki accepted. He could even get her of his head for a while.

She was finally here and wanted to surprise him. She brought the camera and all those packages filled with delicacies she bought. There was so much she wanted to tell and show him. As she was smiling and humming while crossing the road she saw him on the bus stop. She picked the pace so she can go to him as soon as possible but the bus showed up from the corner. “Tamakiii!” She shouted his name but when the bus stopped he got on without even looking in her direction. That’s when she noticed he had his headphones on. She dragged her feet to the bus stop and sat on the bench. “Should I call him or maybe he’s busy.” She sighted. In this moment of desperation she remembered those funny videos she watched with her friends during the trip and laughed. A devilish sparkle appeared in her eyes for a second. He gave her a key to his apartment so she could get in easily and prank him. Oh no. Why prank him when scaring him would be more fun.

Tamaki unlocked the front door. At first he didn’t see it because only a corner of it was showing underneath the doormat. It looked like a piece of paper and he had no idea where it came from. He bent to pick it up. It was actually a letter but it had no address or recipient written on it. Did someone make a mistake? But in the end he was curious so he opened the envelope and there was a small piece of paper with the shape and size of a business card. It was blank but when he turned it to see its back he froze.

“If you don’t send this to ten people the way it was sent to you by the end of tomorrow something bad will happen.”

Was it a chain letter? Who would do this to him? He paced back and forth. These things weren’t real. Nothing bad happen to anyone. He gulped. But what if something actually happens? His stomach was in knots. “Those aren’t real. People are just having fun sending them. You don’t have to go with it. Just relax. Just relax.” This was too much. He couldn’t take it anymore so he rushed to the nearest post office for envelopes. When he was home he took a piece of paper and scissors without taking off his shoes. He cut the paper in precisely the same way as the one from the chain letter. With trembling hand he wrote the exact same words while being careful not to make a mistake. After his meticulous work the ten envelopes were arranged in a straight line on the table. The only thing left was to decide the receivers. He shook his head. He couldn’t do it. The time limit was tomorrow so he had time to think about it. He looked at the clock. It was one in the evening and he felt tired from all of this. He put on his pajamas and lied down unsure if he could fall asleep.

All of the time she was hiding in the closet observing the whole scene. She waited a few minutes before continuing with her plans. She opened the door silently and went in the living room. She looked around and opened some of the cupboards but this wasn’t the right place so she walked in the kitchen. The fridge immediately caught her attention. It was the perfect to put them there. He would open the fridge for sure and this way they would look more realistic. Before commencing phase two of the operation she opened the front door in order to have her escape route ready. Afterwards she stepped on her toes quietly and entered his room. He was asleep so everything should go the way she planned it. She closed in on him and bent over his exposed neck. She breathed out heavily in order to wake him up. He flinched and turned around while hugging his pillow. She repeated it again and this time he opened his eyes slightly. It was time to make her move.

“I will kill you in your sleep.” She whispered with the most ominous voice she could pull out.

Tamaki woke up from the breeze that came from the opened window. Or so he thought until he heard those words. He squealed and almost jumped out of his bed. He was so scared that the only thing he saw was a dark figure leaving the room and the only sound he heard was of a shutting door. He looked around but the one who did it had already left. In this panicked state he reached for his phone and called Mirio. His heart was racing faster with every second as he waited for Mirio to pick up.

“Tamaki why are you calling me this late?”

Tamaki just realized it was late at night. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

Tamaki’s voice trembled and Mirio could sense that something was wrong. “It’s ok. Tell me what’s the matter.”

“Yesterday I received a chain letter saying something bad will happen if I don’t send it to ten people. I hesitated and didn’t do it because I wasn’t sure if it’s the right thing to do but now someone was in my room and woke me up by saying *I will kill you in your sleep*. What should I do?”

“Just stay there. I’ll come in a few minutes.”

Mirio hung up and Tamaki couldn’t tell him that there was no need for him to come. Tamaki waited for him while still hugging his pillow. When Mirio arrived he felt so relieved and fell asleep right away.

The next morning both of them woke up late and Mirio asked Tamaki to show him the chain letter.

“So you don’t recognize this handwriting?” Tamaki shook his head. “Now that I look at it, it looks like it’s been printed.” Tamaki looked confused. “You know you can color the letters in different colors when using Word, right?”

Tamaki didn’t look well. “So I have to redo all of the other letters.”

“No. But you look pale. Maybe we should eat first.” They went in the kitchen but Mirio decided to ask another question. “Can you remember anything about the one who was here last night?”

“No. I was sleepy and barely understood what happened.” Tamaki opened the fridge but he ran behind Mirio. Mirio found the cause behind Tamaki’s fear. It was because of the eyeballs placed all over the food. Mirio picked one and squished it. It was soft.

“Don’t touch it.” But Mirio didn’t pay attention to Tamaki’s pleads and put it in his mouth. “Don’t eat it!” Tamaki was really worried.

“It’s just candy.” Mirio extended his hand towards Tamaki offering him to try one. Tamaki took it and looked at Mirio before starting to chew reluctantly. “I don’t think someone’s trying to harm you. More like prank you.”

“But who and why?”

“I don’t know.” Neither of them knew what was going on. “Sorry Tamaki but I have some work to do.”

“Are you leaving me all alone?”

“It won’t take long and if something happens you can call me.” Mirio gave him a thumbs up but this wasn’t comforting enough. After Mirio left Tamaki had to find some distraction so he went out to buy ingredients for lunch. He should plan the meals carefully because it someone attacked him he had to be prepared.

She was hiding behind a tree and when he headed it the direction of the supermarket she sneaked into the apartment again. She wasn’t there to see his reaction to the eyeballs but she intended to watch from the closer this time.

Tamaki was back with a full menu in his head. He was going to the kitchen but as he passed by the living room he saw a vague red stain on the wall. He entered the room and the moment he saw it he dropped the shopping bags and his blood froze. There was a writing on the wall that said “watch your back”.So someone threatened him for real. He looked around but there was no one but him. He was honestly about to cry from all the tension and he hid behind the couch.

She was watching from the closet how he trembled like a chihuahua. She played too much with his fragile heart and she could’ve even broken it. She came out of her hideout and headed towards him. He was curled into a ball and wouldn’t stop shaking. At least she managed to scare him though there wasn’t much comfort in this. She padded his shoulder and he jumped from the surprise but when he saw her he did the most unexpected thing: he hugged her.

“Tamaki are you alright?”

“My angel are you here to save me?” She couldn’t believe her ears. Did he really say this? He might be thinking it but he couldn’t possibly say it out loud. She clearly overdid it.

“Y yes.” She tried not to sound guilty but it didn’t work out. “You know I saw a suspicious looking guy coming out of your apartment so I chased him down and gave him hell. I’m sure he won’t bother you anymore.” She didn’t want to confess about her being the perpetrator but she still wanted to help him calm down which wasn’t going well. “Hey wanna hear a little about the trip?” She only felt how he nodded still unwilling to break the hug. She really did a horrible thing.