#she knows one spell and it is Get A Little Kissie On The Forehead

[endivinity]

wizard time

[killerkillerkillher]

Bound to Fall in Love

Angel/Demon! 141 x reader

Tags: kidnapping, sacrifices, religious references, reader is too angry to die, reader commits murder lol, canon typical violence??, reader gets a kissy on the forehead, a tad crack-ish

Inclusivity tags: reader is referred to w he/him and they/them pronouns, no bodily description, no y/n

A/n: call my brain an apple w all the worms it's got. This was just a blurb at first, but I made room in there for me to potentially make it into... something I guess.

minors dni!

"Cole, I can't fucking focus while they're just... staring at us like that."

"Ignore it, Bess. We have to finish these candles."

You wish a bolt of lightening would come down and strike all three of you at once. Or maybe the building spontaneously combusting would be better. Anything, anything, would be better at this moment than watching your boyfriend and best friend work together to light a summoning circle after having tied you up in your sleep.

For a fraction of a second, you wonder if any gods are watching, if any of them would be willing to give you a boon and allow you one last chance to punch both of these betrayers in the face.

"Okay, okay, the book," Bess mutters, going to the pick up her ritual book from the coffee table you bought. Honestly, if they were going to try to sacrifice you somewhere, your living room is one of the most disrespectful places. Probably right under your bed room.

"I'm sorry," Cole has the gaul to look down at you with a face stricken with grief. Like you're dead already. "We didn't know what else to do. We're both in bad places and you've always been so good to us, so we figured-"

"You better hope this fucking kills me." You grunt. Cole's face melts into a glare. "Because if I'm still breathing, it's going to take more than Satan's intervention to save you from me. I swear on my mother." You jerk forward, making him jump back a step.

"Cole...?" Bess looks at you, then up at Cole with unease. Cole doesn't say anything for a second, sorting his feelings out with a leer before turning to her.

"Read the book."

He drags you into the middle of their pentagram while she sings Latin words off the old book pages. The candles flicker and waver before their flames grow twice as tall. Cole rolls you onto your back and pulls a knife from his back pocket.

"I meant it when I said I'm sorry," Cole mutters. You snarl, but don't jump at him like you want to.

"Yeah? Yeah, you're sorry? Kiss my ass!" You shout over Bess's reading. "If I'm still alive after this, I'm killing you and burying you in the fucking septic tank!" You crane your head up so you can see Bess as well. "Time to get some stuff off my chest, yeah? Bess, I fucked your older brother on the day we graduated."

Her eyes go wide, and she almost stops talking, but Cole shoots her a look that forces her to continue.

"And his friend Carl, the one you had a crush on. And Cole? I never. Fucking. Finished. Ever! You are the only person I've dated who couldn't get me off." Cole's hand's twitch around the blade.

"Are you serious?"

"Does now look like a time to- ack!" You don't get to finish because Bess finished the spell and it was time for your blood to fuel it. The blade buries in your gut, turning this way and that way at measured increments. You just lay there and twitch, breathy gasps falling from your gaping mouth, the pain only throwing fuel to the fires of your rage.

"Please, we call you here! Honor us with your presence!" Bess chants. Cole step away from you when the candles roar and your vision is filled with bright red and orange.

The ground beneath you rumbles. Whispers fill your ears, nothing you can ever imagine understanding, but something tells you they're other summoners. Or maybe little souls of those who were just where you are now, with a people sacrificing them.

It's odd, you think as blood soaks your back, your hair. You thought you'd be more scared in what could be your final moments. But there's only anguish where there should be fear. Only unfettered violent tension felt in your muscles, and a tongue hungering for iron and gore. You're jaw is wound tight enough to shatter your teeth.

If you could think straight, if you weren't about to die, you might be a little concerned. Never have you wanted to sink your fingers into someone's soft bits as much as you do now. This is normal, right? A normal amount of rage for the people taking your life.

Something in your gut tells you it's not.

In the fog of your rage, you missed the appearance of a pair of men above you. They hover, leathery plum colored wings sagging. One wears a leather strap harness across his chest, while the other favors an unbuttoned silk shirt. One of them looks at you curious as the fire dies, steam and copper colored smoke bellowing from his mouth. A thick cigar hangs on his lips.

"You came! There's... two of you?" Cole gawks, then falls to his knees beside Bess. You can't help but scoff at their sniveling forms.

"We did. There are." The one without the cigar brushes back his long mohawk to get a better look at the whimpering humans. They're nothing new to them, just another set of weak little things looking to get something without putting in the work for it.

Well, they might have had to put in the work to capture you, based on the way you still squirm and fight the rope keeping your arms together. So much blood has left you. You are going to die. Yet you spend your last moments doing what most humans find to be a waste of precious time. Being angry. It's interesting.

"What do you want?" The bearded one in the silk shirt grunts out around his cigar. Bess lifts her head just a bit to speak.

"We want to make a trade. A soul for a better life for us."

There's a moment of silence. You blink your heavy lids, growing too tired to do much else anymore. Both demons look back at you, then to the kneeling humans.

"They're not dead." They say at the same time.

Bess and Cole stiffen and finally chance a glance at you. You're bleeding, a glassy look to your eye and a smile on your face, but you're not dead.

"See, Bess?" You cough up blood only to swallow it back down, "what did I tell you? The cunt can't make me come and can't... can't even make me go."

The mohawked devil pops a wicked smile, not even hiding it from his would-be contractors.

Cole fumes. "I can finish the job. Fuck, am I going to finish the job." He stands, moving to step into the circle only to yelp, the invisible border around the summoning circle becoming visible if only to shock Cole back.

"Not so fast," the bearded one spawns a scroll in his hand. He's eyes glow a molten orange as he scans it. "Section 1, clause 3, part 19 states: executioner(s) must sacrifice one(1) human soul to contractee(s)... Let's see... Here it is: Sacrificee(s) must be dead upon arrival so that proper collection can be done. If sacrificee(s) is still soul bond upon arrival, then they are made the true contractor and all work will be conducted with them."

"In other words," the mohawked one grinned, "you should have went for the heart." He taps at his chest.

"Or the neck." The other devil offers.

"Or that vein in they're thigh."

"The sephenous, Johnny."

"Yeah, that."

"No, no!" Cole grabs at his hair as Bess looks like she's about to start crying. You want to laugh. They deserve the despair. They deserve the horror in their mistake. They were going to kill you!

"That means," the devils lean back to look at you. "You're our contractor. You get two requests at the price of one, human. I suggest one of those requests includes healing you." He flicks the ashes of his cigar on your leg. You don't even have to think of what you want most right now.

"I want you to untie me." You roll on your side. They wait for the rest. Cole and Bess look like they're going to shit themselves from the pale faced looks of terror they give you. Your eyes narrow. "And a hammer. A old fashioned iron and wood handled hammer."

Another beat of silence before the infernals bend over in laughter. The room shacks, sulfuric smoke pouring from their mouths to funk up the room. Cole tries to cox Bess to her feet while they're distracted. Their feet can't move though. It's like they're glued in placed and no amount of pulling and tugging could get them loose. Shame.

"Yer a funny one, love. I'll love having your soul for a few eternities." The one in leather floats over you, tilting his head this way and that way to get a good look at you. You settle him with a neutral look. "My name is Johnny. You sure that's what you want? I think you've only got a few minutes left in you."

"Then let's hurry this up a little, huh?"

"Ooh, you heard 'em." The cigared one snickers and snaps his claws. Two contracts appear in front of your face, both written in a language you can hardly comprehend. A pen appeared in front of your mouth. "Sign on the dotted line please."

You take the quill in your mouth, dip it in the blood beneath you.

"Rah 'ere?"

"Mhm."

You lean forward to dot the paper with your sloppy signature, but bizarrely enough, it seems like the powers that be have decided that they haven't made enough appearances. The floor trembles, and you worry about your poor infrastructure for a fraction of a second, when a set of gold doors spawn right behind you. You roll back onto your back to intake everything. You swear you're hallucinating when a pair of white winged angels step out, the clouded blue of heaven at their back.

"Hello?" You greet stupidly. You must be losing your mind, right? What the fuck is happening.

"Do not sign a thing." The bronzen angel instructs. "Human, we are here as messengers. God sees great things for you in your ascension. Please do not squander that to these demons." He shoots a sharp look at the demonic pair. The angel's counterpart wears a white cloak, obscuring all but his glowing golden eyes. You half expect him to sing "Be not afraid." despite you actively shitting bricks.

Oddly enough, their appearence seems to have some sort of healing property. Your lethargy starts to clear and the blade in your gut starts to get pushed out. Nothing hurts anymore.

"Oh, so we've got a big soul on our hands here, huh?" Johnny smirks. "Price, what's the plan?"

Price the devil throws his cigar to the ground and crushes it.

"Do what we do best. Bargain."

"Don't play with us, Price." The shrouded angel grunts. He's got a mind piercing voice that's got your head ringing, and you swear it echoes despite the room being well furnished. "We can provide them with just as much, if not more, at no cost of their soul." Those gold orbs land on you. "All we ask for is your faith."

"Jesus fucking Christ!" You tug at your bonds with renewed vigor. The angels wince at the mention of their Lord, but only watch as you force yourself upright. "I could not give a rat's ass who gets what! How about this? First one to get me free and a hammer in hand gets my loyalty."

There's two resounding snaps from either side of you. The ropes disappear, a hammer is in your left and right hand. You don't think deeper on what that implies. You finally stand, dropping the hammer in your nondominant hand, and march over to the two people you thought you could trust. They kneel now, seemingly ready to beg for their souls.

"Come on, don't look scared now." You drop your hands on your hips. "What happened to you finishing the job?"

"I didn't want-"

"Say it with your chest." You poke his breast plate with the iron hammer head.

"I didn't want it to come to this!" Cole yells. The divine audience doesn't say anything about it. They watch you curiously as you bounce the hammer in hand. Your soul is visible to them. What should be a glowing ball of light is a red and white morning star, all sharp edges and pulsing like a heart. Your soul will certainly not end up with the others, that much is true.

"I just... I couldn't keep up with you! Your life style, the way you act, your job. I never left good enough. Bess expressed the same thing and we just... clicked. We would have just left, but we could have never lived without struggling, so we just..." He swallows. You can't look at him anymore, hands clenching at what he says next. "The book called for someone we cared for."

''That supposed to make me feel better?" You tilt your head. Cole winces, eyes falling on your feet. You look to Bess. "Thought you were better than this. You were going to kill me. Because what, I was happy? I loved both of you, you could have just talked to me."

"We're sorry! What more do you want?" Bess sobs. You straighten up, bouncing the hammer on your hip, acting like you next action is something to deliberate. You already know what they deserve, and a flash of sadness bubbles in your chest, but it quickly passes as a hot, searing emotion burns a hole into what little hesitation you had left.

"Reckon I want your souls after all the shit you've caused." You grin before swinging the hammer back and caving in Cole's chest.

"Fuck..." is all you can say after everything is done. Cole and Bess lay in a bloody heep, all recognizable features destroyed and crushed. You pant, hands trembling and nothing but white noise and static crunching around in your head. You just killed your best friend and boyfriend. For some reason, you've never felt so light.

Someone's whistle gets followed by a clap.

"Impressive. Done that before?" Johnny chuckles. He floats closer, hand running down your back as he moves past and pokes around the pulped organs. "Shite, did them right in. Can't tell which is which."

"I've never-" you start to answer, but hands are clapped onto your shoulders, shocking you into silence.

"Well, that was a good place to start, lad. Your swings were a bit sloppy, but we can fix that." Price squeezes at your trapezius, massaging the stiffness out of them. A throat clears, and Price sighs like he forgot there was other company.

"We aren't finished. The human is our ward now, Price." The uncloaked angel snaps his finger, pulling you from Price and making you spawn between the two angels. The bronzen angel smiles down at you with teeth so white you could damn near see your reflection.

"There you are. It's nicer to have you close. My friend here is Simon and I'm-"

"Come on, Kyle, you know he's ours!" Johnny spits, his wings flaring out. "We gave him the hammer first, so piss off."

"Uh...huh." Kyle's smile falls. "I think you're a bit mistaken. Look, after executing the human's request, I have his name here." A stone slab appears in front of your face. It's smells like sunshine and warm grass. What the fuck. "His pledge to the Lord has been set and his soul already has a place next to Their throne."

"Right, right, like we don't have documentation neither." Johnny huffs. The stone disappears as a scroll appears next to the devil. The smell of sulfur and smoke wafts over to you. "His name is right there, pretty boy. Getting yer fuckin' lookers on."

Kyle ignores the rude tone and does pull out a pair of reading glasses to go over the scroll. You stand there in the silence, a little too scared to speak up. What could you do anyway? In a blind anger, you didn't really have the mind to think any of this out. Angels and devils are fighting over you because you'd stupid ass was too blood hungry to think past murder. All that can be done is for them to figure this out amongst themselves, and for you to wait for the sentencing. Heaven, or Hell?

"...Simon." Kyle slowly pulls his glasses off. "This is legit. His soul is promised to all of us."

You glance up at Simon, the scary motherfucker. He blinks. Once. Twice. Then pinches the bridge of his nose with a hagard sigh.

"Shit."

That's not good.

Johnny laughs, Price grinning like a dog with a bone. Kyle marches over to you, patting your shoulders with an awkward smile. His demeanor reminds you of the way your mom acted when she said she was going to divorce your dad. And all you can think is "Not this again." Are you going to be spending your afterlife going between heaven and hell forever? Does God get weekends because Their day is Sunday or whatever?

"We need to go and talk this over with some superiors. We'll clean this up," Kyle snaps and the gore is gone, so is the ritual circle and candles. "And we'll get back to you in the morning." He places a feather light kiss on your forehead, and suddenly you're squeaky clean and in the softest set of pajamas you've ever worn. "Stay safe while we're gone and don't allow these two to influence you. Get some rest."

"Blah, blah, blah," Johnny mocks from the sidelines. Price tilts his head, and there's nothing but amusement behind those eyes. Yeah, this is exactly like your parents divorce.

"O-okay? I mean, I'll try." You shrug.

Simon nods. "That's all you can do." He steps back into the golden doorway and Kyle falls in stride. You make some distance, and with a final wave from a white toothed angel, the doors shut with a slam that shakes the house's foundation.

"Just you and us now, stud."

You turn with a comedic slowness to the devils. Price chuffs and floats forward. His assess you, takes you in in all your fluffy white pajama glory, and it seems he finds what he wants when he nods.

"Guess we've got to talk with top brass to see what's going on ourselves. Pity we couldn't stick around longer." The devil's eyes never meet yours, staying glued to various parts of your face. They hop from ears, to your eyebrows, down to your lips. Christ on a bike, is it getting hot in here? His blue, glowing cerulean eyes appear to flash with something.

"Shite, yer right." Johnny groans. "I hate going down there."

"Suck it up, love. You know how I feel about sharing." Price drops his interest in you like an old toy and takes Johnny close by his waist. You watch with a lead poisoned stare as their noses touch intimately, words you can't hear being exchanged. It's kinda of awkward to just stand there and watch but your brain isn't really functioning well enough to tell you to stop.

"Hey, stud." You blink, refocusing on the pair. Johnny seems to have climbed his partner, his legs on his waist and arms around his neck. Price makes busy opening a portal to hell in your livingroom with one hand, supporting Johnny under his ass with the other. "Sit pretty, yeah? 'll be back before those two arseholes, promise."

"Right... yeah." You nod. "Uh, be safe?"

"Be safe, he says." Price mutters. "Cute." Johnny waves until Price steps through the infernal hole and falls from view. The portal closes right behind him so you'd have no hopes of seeing anything but the red hue of smog and dust.

And here you are. A little dazed, a little sad, probably holding back a break down from the last hour of events. But you're alive and you're healed. There's no blood to clean, you're in comfortable pajamas. Could probably sleep right now if your brain would stop for a minute, but it doesn't look like that's in the plans.

So you look for something to do. Cole and Bess and moved around all your furniture to make the summoning circle. Guess you can start there, right?

[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

Meeting and Dating Mark

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

- You and Mark met after you started working at Empire.

- Initially, he’d spotted you while you were in one of the music booths and immediately thought you were cute. Unbeknownst to him, you’d been filling out a resume while listening and would begin working alongside him in just a few days.

- You should have seen Marks face when you walked in and were introduced to everyone as a new employee. He was so excited. You caught him watching you a lot during the day, giving you a smile and that giggle of his anytime you caught him.

- If it we’re anyone else, you’d be freaked out, but even on your first day, you could tell that that was just how Mark was. He was dorky and you found that sort of cute.

- As you got to know everyone more and more, you found that you really started to like Mark, and while it was initially just platonically, your interest in him soon began to shift.

- So, upon realizing that you wanted to be more than friends with the boy, you started to try and test the waters. You started to flirt with him a little, subtly at first and then a little more obvious …and then what was probably blatantly obvious to everyone else in the store....

- Yeah ...Mark didn’t pick up on it. A part of you wondered if he just didn’t like you like that and if he was trying to let you down easy, but another part of you could see that he was just as interested as you were; he was just too nervous to ask you out and didn’t understand you were practically inviting him to do so in every conversation you had with him. 

- The conversation, the conversation between him and Lucas in the break room …god you should have heard it. Mark had mentioned to the boy how he was really into you and was asking if he thought you liked him too. Lucas stared at him for a moment in bewilderment before giving him a polite smile and saying “You know Mark, …something tells me she is”. 

“Really,” He asks excitedly before nodding and giggling “Aww great!”

- Later that day, he paced behind you for a while, stepping closer before retreating before repeating the cycle. Finally, he was right behind you and you just so happened to turn, nearly bumping into him as he stood there. 

- You laughed a bit awkwardly and greeted him, he giggled and greeted you back. You could tell that he wanted to say something so you hung around, watching as he fiddled with his hands and fidgeted in his place, fumbling over his words. 

“So I was uhhh-well like aha, I wanted to know if you maybe wanted to do something later. ..You know …like a, like a date! Heh heh!” 

- Feeling like a higher power had finally hard your prayers, you smiled and quickly agreed. He asked “really” and you’d assured him that yes, you really wanted to. 

- He giggled, said “cool” and said he’d see you later before going to tell the guys. 

- The two of you didn’t really go into your first date knowing what you wanted to do but neither of you really minded. You just started walking down the street together, asking the other person if they had something in mind before settling on walking until you found something.  

- You ended up only walking around town, him occasionally riding his skateboard slowly beside you before he asked if you wanted to give it a try. You spent a good hour holding his hand as he tried his best to teach you the basics. 

- The two of you share your first kiss during your first date. He’d had his hands on your waist while he was teaching you something, his eyes focusing on your face while you were distractedly listening. When you turned to look at him, you locked eyes for a quick moment before he’d quickly pecked your lips, giggled, and continued teaching you. 

-All and all, you wouldn’t have had it any other way. 

- Constant Pda. Mark is obsessed with touching you and getting loved on so it’s only natural.

- Mark loves attention and affection. He will never turn it down, no matter what kind of mood he’s in.

- Please kiss his forehead. Expect him to giggle happily and wiggle in place after you do

- Giggling into kisses.

- Long, drawn out kisses.

- Enjoyably sloppy makeout sessions.

- Mark has definitely licked the entire side of your face at least once; and for no reason at all!

- Hugs from behind.

- Handholding.

- Cuddlinggggg. Cuddlingggg! He loves it so much. He’ll always find a way to snuggle into you, usually by spooning you; he likes being the big spoon.

- The minute you approach him/get his attention it’s like he’s seeing the greatest thing in the world. You’ll seriously never feel more loved than when you’re around him.

- Occasionally, he’ll pretend like he’s in some kind of old Hollywood movie and act all dramatic towards you. He likes the way you look at him so fondly and laugh whenever he does.

- He likes to act like he’s a hairdresser and mess with your hair just to make you whine at him.

- Tickling and poking. He thinks it’s both funny and cute when you jolt in place and smack his arm.

- You’re sort of desensitized when it comes to weird/bewildering stuff. Mark is a ...strange boy, if anyone else were to kiss your foot or forget how to spell his own name, you’d think they were mental, but that’s ...just Mark.

- Exaggerated manners. He’ll open doors and pull out chairs for you with a flourish.

- Randomly being handed little flowers or cute things that he finds.

- Eyebrow raises, finger guns, kissy faces.

- Moshing together.

- Letting him teach you music video dances.

- Singing along to songs with each other. He’ll usually sing at you until you join in with him.

- Your name is babe now. Get used to it.

- Sweet compliments. You should see the way he reacts when you call him cute.

- He’ll let you rant/word vomit to him and nod along to what you’re saying but bless his little heart, he really doesn’t understand a single thing you’re talking about.

- He’s not much help when you’re not happy, he doesn’t understand subtleties nor does he know how to comfort you so just ask him for a hug and let his affection do the healing.

- Even though he doesn’t have any advice for you or a way to really comfort you, he tries his best to make you feel better and stays by your side when you’re really going through something.

- Letting him tell you about his dreams and ambitions. You support him, even if you don’t quite think he’ll actually make it, or is even being serious.

- Unexpected visits. If he has a really sudden idea, he will come over uninvited and excitedly/impatiently ask if you can talk.

- Helping him expand on what he’s trying to do. He’s always asking your opinion on things and looking for your approval.

- Debates and playful arguments about music.

- Getting high together; if you’re into that sort of thing.

- Convenience store runs.

- Sharing food.

- Pizza dates.

- Movie dates. You’ll usually rent a film and hang out at one of your houses.

- Spending your lunch breaks together. You’ll usually sit outside the shop on that little platform with him.

- As spaced out and sort of stupid as he can be, he’s actually pretty good at thinking on his feet and helping you out when you have a problem. He likes when you kiss his cheek in gratitude and call him a genius.

- Mark doesn’t always notice that people are flirting with or interested in you so he doesn’t get jealous very often. When he does, he’s sort of that insecure type of jealous where he’s not so subtly asking if you like them or asking what you’re going to be doing with them. You can usually reassure him and make him feel better pretty quickly.

- Mark is sort of a coward at times, he’s probably hidden behind you at some points so he’s not the best person to protect you. He also just trusts that you can take care of yourself but if it really came down to it, he’d run over and try his best to be tough for you.

- He’s better suited for putting on bandaids and giving boo boo kisses than anything else.

- The two of you rarely ever fight. You might bicker and he’ll walk away with a huff but thats about it.

- Things are resolved fairly quickly. You’ll usually just forget you were even arguing about something or just choose to forget and move on since it wasn’t about anything serious.

- Lots of I love yous. He likes saying and hearing it. He’s surprised you even want to be his girlfriend so he feels the need to let you know that he does whenever he can.

- Mark really loves you so he’s hoping that you’ll want to stick with him, even though you’re like totally out of his league. Either way, he’s going to enjoy the time he has with you.

[ryosei-hime]

Date Night

Continuation of Personal Space. Husk spends the day getting ready for his date with Angel and the rest of the night being a mess. Can also be found over on AO3.

Husk groaned as he rolled off the sofa in the foyer, bottles clattering as he disturbed them. He dragged a paw down his face before a huge yawn escaped. A sound of agony followed as he stretched his back, every vertebrae popping and shifting. That damn thing was not meant for sleeping on. A feather floated down to the floor and he followed it’s trajectory back to the sofa to find more littering the cushions. Oh, great, molting. That’s what he needed.

He checked his phone for the time and saw a message from Angel. It was a picture of him splayed out on the sofa with his mouth open, a bottle clutched in one hand, and a leg over the back. He’d captioned it “Sleeping Beauty” followed by one of those winking kissy faces. 

Husk rolled his eyes as he picked himself up off the ground. If he found that damn thing on his social media, he’d kill him. Nobody had any damn privacy anymore. He texted back a threat and searched around his empties for any remnants - hair of the dog and all - until a static-filled voice interrupted him.

“Good afternoon, Husker.”

“Yeah, what’d you want?” 

“Simply passing through, my friend.”

Husk’s lip curled. Every time Alastor called him friend it caused a visceral reaction. Fuckin asshole. He’d rather the fucker just treat their relationship as it was instead of trying to paint a polite picture. You could put lipstick on a pig but it was still a fuckin pig. 

“But good luck on your little date tonight.”

Alastor’s smile turned sharper and his eyes more sinister. God dammit, Angel. Couldn’t he keep his fuckin mouth shut? Husk just gave Alastor the finger as he moved on with his day. He checked to make sure Angel hadn’t blabbed about this anywhere else. But it must have just been good old fashioned word of mouth.

Actually, he’d barely posted at all today which was weird for Angel. Probably knew he couldn’t keep his mouth shut if he did. Husk sighed and dragged himself to his room. He had a few hours to get himself together enough for this. Plenty of time to go over everything that would go wrong in minute detail.

It was Nifty who helped him get ready. Of course, she knew, too. Whole damn hotel knew. She insisted on helping him get dressed up in an old suit and tie. He didn’t see the need to bother. Wasn’t like he wore clothes regularly and they wouldn’t be on him long.

But it made Nifty happy to get him ready, giving him advice so fast he couldn’t take half of it in even if he’d wanted to. He smiled at her as she fixed his tie and stood back with her hands on her hips.

“You look great! Angel’s gonna love it. I’m so excited for you!” 

“At least someone is,” Husk muttered, resisting the urge to loosen the tie a bit. 

“Aren’t you excited?” 

“Ah, I’m no good at this stuff. You know that.” 

“Don’t worry! Just let Angel help you. He’s great at it.” She started dusting Husk’s own fur off his suit as it shed, her efforts only making it worse. “And he really likes you!”

“Yeah, I know,” Husk replied. “Thanks Nifty.”

Nifty gave him a big hug and he returned it gently. Her slight frame made him extra careful with her. 

“I have to get back to cleaning, but I hope you enjoy your date!” 

“Yeah. I’ll try.” 

He raised a hand in a slight wave as she hurried off. He decided to spend the rest of the day waiting for Angel at the bar. That turned out to be a mistake. Everyone had something to say. They wished him luck. They cooed and sighed like it was some big fuckin show. Their words were supportive but somehow they only made Husk more nervous, maybe even a little bitter. This shit seemed so easy for everyone else. 

It had been easy for him once, too.

Eventually the foyer emptied out as it got late. Husk knew Angel would be returning for him any minute. He finally had to loosen the tie around his neck and decided to fix himself a drink to calm his nerves, but just as he reached under the bar, the doors opened. 

His wings lifted slightly as Angel made his entrance. Husk wasn’t the only one who’d gotten dressed up. Angel’d gotten his hair done or some kind of extensions or something. Fuck if Husk knew. He wore a strapless pink number, the skirt covered with some kinda fake flower and vine decorations. Looked like it was supposed to be a train, but he was too tall for it to do much but brush the floor as he approached. Husk actually thought he looked beautiful all dolled up like that. Maybe he should tell him. Instead, what came out of his mouth was: 

“What’re we going to the fuckin prom?” 

“I dunno. Will you be doin’ my taxes when we’re done?” Angel shot back with a grin. 

He reached across the bar and fixed his tie. Dammit, he’d choke to death before he got through this night. Angel didn’t release his tie right away. He used it to pull him closer for a quick kiss. 

“Ready?”

No.

“Yeah, sure.” 

Husk came out from behind the bar and let Angel take his arm. He had no idea where they were going, but he just let Angel take the lead. Like Nifty had said, he was good at this. When they arrived at their destination, Husk was a little grateful she’d insisted on dressing him up. Angel had chosen some high end, classy joint. 

They got a lot of stares on the way to their table. He knew Angel was the center of attention wherever he went, but he didn’t like being caught in the crossfire of all those lustful gazes. A growl sounded low in his chest before he could stop it, his teeth bared. The stares become a little less overt.

Angel put a hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t scare my fans, Husk. I’m used to it.”

“Well, I’m not. People need to mind their own fuckin business.”

Without thinking about it, Husk pulled a chair out for Angel. At least he remembered something from the old days.

“Whatta gentleman,” Angel joked, batting his lashes at him as he sat. 

Husk gave his chair a rough shove up to the table, taking his own with a grumble. When he looked up, Angel had his chin on his hands, fingers laced to make a cradle, staring at him with such a soft look it took Husk’s breath away. He made himself busy with the menu. As the waiter approached, Angel sat up suddenly.

“Oh, I forgot. This place is Italian. Like Italian Italian. But I can order for ya, if ya want.” 

Angel looked quite proud of himself and Husk hated to burst his bubble. 

“I got it.”

He gave the waiter his order in perfect Italian and looked back to Angel as the waiter turned to him. Angel stared at him in shock for a moment before stumbling through his own order. He waited until the waiter had disappeared before going off.

“You know Italian? Holy shit, Husk! I been dirty talkin ya all this time at the bar and you knew?!”

Husk hid his smirk behind his menu, trying not to laugh. Angel pushed it away and stared him down, motioning with two fingers between them.

“You look at me, look at me!” 

Husk looked up, still grinning. Angel’s face had gone stern, and he held his gaze for a moment before simply uttering,

“You bastard.” 

Husk let himself laugh a little and teased him. 

“You get real creative when you’re drunk, you know that?”  

Angel just smirked and crossed his second set of arms while another hand brought a glass of wine up to his cheek.

“Well, I guess you know what you got to look forward to then, donchya?”

The conversation during dinner remained light-hearted and Angel kept reaching out for Husk’s paw, making eyes at him. He avoided making direct eye contact, insides churning every time Angel tried. Once their plates were taken away, Angel stood and held a hand out to him.

“Can I get a dance before we go?” 

Husk felt a little more confident as he put a paw in his hand. Dancing was something he knew he could do at least. He smiled back at him.

“Sure.” 

He let Angel draw him out onto the dance floor and pull him into a waltzing position. His extra hands found a place to rest on Husk’s hips as they began to move. Angel took the lead, but Husk had expected as much with the height difference. He wouldn’t let Angel know, but he was surprised he knew how to waltz. It seemed a bit old-fashioned for him. Or at least for how he tended to present himself. It was easy to forget he was from an older era than he was.

“Thank you.”

Husk looked up and felt all the air rush out of his lungs again. Angel gazed down at him with such a genuine look of gratitude. If he didn’t stop stealing his breath, he’d never make it through this night.

“A bet’s a bet,” he repeated.

“You didn’t have to go on a date with me, but ya did. I really appreciate that. It’s nice.” 

Husk closed their stance and pressed his forehead against Angel’s shoulder in response. Angel’s secondary arms held him close, his other hands sliding softly over his shoulders and down his arms. Husk turned his face in towards Angel’s neck instinctually. Everything felt so warm and comforting in this moment. Husk had to say something to break the spell before he started purring and embarrassed himself.

“You’re payin’ right? Cause I can’t afford this shit on my salary.”

“Don’t worry. I gotchya, babe,” Angel replied. “The least I can do is buy ya dinner first.”

Husk pulled back and a hand found his cheek as Angel leaned down to kiss him softly. Then again, a bit harder, staring at him through half-lidded eyes. Husk had to close his, but his paws slid up Angel’s back to grip his shoulders as he reciprocated. Angel broke the kiss and lowered his lips to Husk’s ear, brushing over the hairs at the tip for a moment, sending a thrill through his whole body. 

“Let’s get outta here.”

Husk just nodded his agreement as Angel moved towards the table to pay, his hand sliding off Husk’s shoulder as he went. Husk loosened his tie as he focused on breathing. Fuck. This was happening. Shit. Fuck. As he panicked, a feather slowly floated to the floor then another. Oh, fan-fucking-tastic! This shit!

He stepped on the feathers to hide them as Angel returned, trying to keep a neutral expression. He probably wouldn’t have noticed the feathers anyways. He had his eyes locked onto Husk’s as he reached for his arm again. A devious light there had chased away the tenderness that had been prevalent the rest of the night, letting Husk know Angel’d fully shifted gears. 

Thankfully when they returned to the hotel it wasn’t to some kind of fuckin fanfare. He’d half expected some kind of congratulatory party, the way people acted around here. But the foyer was as empty as it usually was this time of night. Just the two of them as it so often was. Angel stopped by the bar and released his arm. 

“Okay, gimme ten to slip into somethin more comfortable,” Angel said with a joking tone. “Then meet me in my room.” 

He made a show of walking away, swinging his hips and looking back at Husk over his shoulder before disappearing down the corridor. Husk just stood there calmly until he was out of sight. Once alone, he threw himself abruptly over the bar, gasping in air like a drowning man. He sent bottles clattering to the floor as he fished around for a drink. He leaned back against the bar and sank to the ground as he chugged whatever booze he’d managed to grab. The chugging became less frantic after a moment and he started to breathe again. Thank fucking god for alcohol. 

“You did this to yourself, asshole,” he muttered under his breath. 

He watched the clock as it ticked away the seconds he had to get himself together. He finally did away with his tie entirely and ran a paw over his head. Okay, this wasn’t such a big deal. God, it wasn’t like he didn’t find Angel attractive. And this would make him happy. 

All of Husk’s limbs went limp and his head banged back against the bar. Dammit, he wanted him to be happy. How had he let this happen? He sighed and let the empty bottle roll out of his grasp before picking himself up off the floor. 

He trudged down the hall to Angel’s room, leaving a sparse trail of feathers in his wake, and gave a light rap on the door before pushing it open. The lights were low and tinged pink from the scarves draped over the shades. Angel had tossed rose petals around the room wildly. He followed their general trail over to the bed where Angel was, of course, poised seductively. 

He’d changed out of the prom dress and into lacy black lingerie, makeup entirely redone to match. How the fuck did he do that so fast? Angel shifted forward and pushed himself off the bed, sauntering over to him the way he approached a pole at a show. He brushed the back of a hand against his cheek as he circled around behind him. All three sets of arms snaked around him, hands working at buttons and sliding under his shirt.

Husk froze as his clothes just fell around him, only brought back to motion by the shiver that went down his spine when Angel pressed soft kisses against the back of his neck. Damn, he was good. His paws rose to find the closest pair of Angel’s hands and slid over them. Angel nuzzled his face into the crook of his neck before finding his ear. 

“I’ve been waiting for this.” 

Husk turned in his arms and tried to think of something to say. All he could think of was how long it had been and how badly he was about to fuck up. He started backing away slowly, but Angel followed. 

He felt his knees buckle as he backed up into the bedframe. He fell back onto the bed and Angel leaned over him, using a pair of arms to hold himself up while the other two ran down his chest. Husk’s throat felt like it had closed up and he gasped for air. 

“W-wait.” 

[watchyourbluesturngolden]

my annotations for chappy 11 of ysijwa

this is just for drea and leyla to read so if you're not drea or leyla pls keep scrolling :)

ok this is pretty chaotic and like i said earlier i treated this ike a wattpad comment section so... have fun ig :)

SHERLOCK AND WATSON CINEMATIC UNIVERSE SHUT UPPPPP I LOVE YOU SM DREA

NOT MISS SNAP CRACKLE POP

jealous y/n you say???

now i know why you ignored all my tiktok asks lmao

HELPLESS OH MY GOD

truly madly deeply intended :)

damn he's kind of a narcissist yk? like "I have to be serious my entire family depends on it" shut up mr darcy you're not special

devout in his religion hmmmmmm hopefully we see some more religious trauma content bc me too vampy

awww he wants kids but now he cant have them bc hes... dead :(

AWWW his sister taught him to knit :( if he doesn't knit bloodbag a sweater i swear to god

stuffy moron is correct

"IT'S A FUCKING WONDER HE EVER GOT LAID" OIJRIOJWEIOJIEWOJFIOEJOF

"THE ATROCITY THAT IS BEING ACQUAINTED WITH NIALL AND HIS HORRIBLE AFFINITY FOR CHEAP FLANEL" ORJFOIJFEIOWJ YOURE SUCH A POET

he's so dumb she was with him bc he's hot that much should be obvious to him🙄

FOOLISHLY HOPELESSLY UNMEASURABLY IN LOVE HWAT THE FUCK DREA IM SAD

i love that he remembers the spinal cord dislocation and the dead leaves . like yea im dead rn but the leaves in my hair are really what's bothering me the most

what the fuck is a maw

ok i looked it up i get it now

"attachment is for gullible idiots" yup and youre one of them vampy 😌

"the warmest skin his icy fingers had ever had the good fortune to touch" im so soft rn

oh so now she has "a wholesome beauty about her nature" ? i thought she was just cute enough 🤨

HE THINKS HER SMILE COULD RESTART HIS HEART THATS SO CUTE IM OUHOIJFOEWIJFIOEWJ

"the responsibility of keeping her safe, satisfied, and happy" how 🥺 🥺🥺

"as long as he breathes" i thought he didn't breathe lmao BUT I GET THE SENTIMENT

"always when it comes to her" IM SCREAMING RN THIS IS SO SOFT I CANT

ill never forgive him for being so dense either his brain is basically a rock

HE WANTED TO COMMUNICATE THAT HE BELONGED TO HER IM GONNA HAVE A STROKE

couldnt be me i dont want to be percieved

HE ADDED A FUCKING BUTTERFLY AFTER THE DISCO BALLS IM OIWFJIOEWJFIOEJIOEWNOJIWJ(*H(WUIOFJIOEWJFIOWHVIFUEH)U)($UT

HEY a hamilton obsession is not childish😤

'the only person who was allowed to touch him there was y/n' he's like a little kid who's possessive omggggggg

oh this reminds me i rlly hope everything in that chest was new and had never been used on anyone else owijfowiejfioewj

oh please my irish king can control himself let y/n meet the other vamps���

"if they knew all along why did it take so long" yk im wondering the same thing dummy

"every day was a battle to earn her love and affection" wtffff how could she hurt him like that he is just a baby

i think he needs therapy tbh

yes he does deserve to be treated with respect and dignity😤

"supporting and tolerating them despite your differences" exactly unless they're a republican

IM SORRY THAT WAS MEAN OIWFJOIWJFEIOw i said what i said tho

they did everything backwards but it's what baby needed🥺

im literally gonna 🔪 bradley how dare he hurt my favorite ribeye like that

PROPER BOYFRIEND-GIRLFRIEND BONDING PLSSSSS im sure he makes sure to say stuff like "as your boyfriend' or 'since youre my girlfriend' all the time now

"everything that has to do with harry has always and will always make her feel safe and secure" ...who's gonna tell her👀

HE BECOMES CLINGY IVE BEEN WAITIN FOR THIS ONE TURN IT UP

awwww my love language is also quality times bestiesssssss

(this is more serious you might want to change the words to nose kisses or something because esk*mo is a slur)

HE wants to be wrapped in HER arms and get forehead kissies like a little baby🥺🥺

i can tell you wrote this chappy bc leyla would never write about ice cream

IF CHRIST CAN GET A DATE MARKER SO CAN HARRY OIFJOEIWJFIOEWJFWI PLSSSSSSSSSS I LOVE HIM

ALWAYS FOR HER WEJFIOJWEIOFJEWIOFJOIEWJFOIEWJF HES SO IN LOOOOOVE

HE DID IT AND IM SO PROUD OF HIM🥺

omg i have a thot imagine if she got a heart murmur or something and obvi he knows bc he can hear it so now he has to find a way to make her get it checked out out without being suspicious 😭

HE ROCKS HER TO CALM HER DOWN WHEN SHES HAVING NIGHTMARES IJFEOWIJFOIWEFJ

“nearly blinds himself for eternity” what a drama queen i love him

maybe learn how to turn your brightness down grandpa

“can women sense emotional distress” why is this so funny oiewfjwieojfioewj

DEHUMANIZING OWEIJOIAJAKLFSDJLKSDJFKLD

not a psychotic episode 😭😭

crippling mommy issues woejfkljdklsjsdf me too king

awwwww he made her a full buffet i would cry

matchy socks im gonna sob

king is a chef 😌

y/n’s head @ harry’s clavicle rn: 💥

“his plush chest” drea its ok you can say titties

“absolutely flawless”? are you sure shes not just cute enough 🤨

he got her oat milk 🥺the sign of true love

hes such a shithead i love him

SPELLING HIS NAM E ON HER TUMMY IM HAVING ANOTHER STROKE

“I DIDNT WANT TO LEAVE YOU ALL ALONE” HES SO WOIFJSJFSDKJKLSDJF

HE DIDNT HAVE TO DO NIALL LIKE THAT 😭😭

RAPUNZEL HAIR OSIDJSKJKLSJF

she traces a tiny heart on him wtfffffffffff im sad

this… is hot

“theres no room on the counter” owifjlksjfslkfjklsj

HE WOULD WALK THROUGH FIRE FOR HER maybe then he’d be a little less cold

im sorry that was wrong of me lisjfskldjfwoiejewiojrei

OH MY GOD OWEIJFKLJSKLFJL SHES SO BOLD “can’t i?” OSIJFKSLJLKJF

oh boy hes gonna kill her

I WONDERED WHEN THE YOURE HOT WHEN YOURE MEAN THING WAS GOING TO COME UP

literally shut the fuck up mr english major

do it bestie kick him in the balls

SPARE BOOBIES MAAM I CNAT BELIEVE YOU aCTUALLY WROTE THAT OWIFEJWIJEKLJFOIEWHOEWIFEHFLKEWJFKLEWJKLJFL

IM WHITE IM ALLERGIC TO SPICE WEJFLKJFKLEJFLKJSKLJKFSJD

“character development at its finest” what a self aware king

y/n stop being mean to him baby just wants to feel close ☹️

“I’m anemic” ok king whatever u say

“ME AND MY CHRONIC ILLNESS IM SENSITIVE” IJFKLSDJFKLJSDKLJ

ahhhhhhh it’s yoga time

“just ask your cervix” jlksdjflksdjflkdsjflk

“if only you knew” ☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️

yeah y/n isnt like those other girls 🤪 shes different 🤪

yes bestie objectify him

THERE IT IS MY FAVORITE LINE IN THIS ENTRIE BOOK

PERHAPS MY FAVORITE LINE IN ANY BOOK EVER

“He hasn't been this stiff since rigor mortis”

i think about this on a daily basis i truly do

grey shorts? what a slut

“call the lapd im pressing charges” me after walking up the stairs

OH SO THIS IS WHERE THE GREYS ANATOMY CHARACTERS FROM THE SPOILERS WITHOUT CONTEXT COME IN

him using his shirt as a towel im BARKING

“I wasnt jealous” yea ok 😃

AGAIN HIM DRAWING HIS INITIALS ON HER SKIN THATS SO WOIJFSKLDJFLSJ

yeah harold she just wanted a little kiss 😤

yeah 😃 its bc he ran track 😃

no bc thats so fucking cute that she pretended she had never seen the show before bc he was excited to introduce her to it 🥺

I would do the same tbh i feel like it would be fun to wash dishes with harry idk why

“that skank” oisjksldfjklsjfklsdjflkd

YOUR THICK SKULL COULD DAMAGE THE MARBLE LSKFJKLDSJKFLSDJFKLSJFKLSJKLSJLDKFJLSKDJF I WOULD CRY

he gets her a cup of water 🥺

ok but like wouldn't she want to wash her hair after it got all sweaty at yoga

awwwww she got his toothbrush ready for him why am i so soft rn

memory foam mattresses sound nice but actually they kind of suck bc you sink down and feel trapped in them 😃

HE WATCHED THE TIKTOK SHE SENT HIM IM HAVING A THIRD STROKE

niall is probably on the dumbest side of tiktok idek what side but it’s probably annoying and he thinks it’s hilarious

noooo baby youre not a monster🥺 someone give him a hug rn

well actually you are kind of a monster but its ok we still love u bestie

I too run on caffeine and pizza pockets 😌

TONSIL HOCKEY WHAT THE FUCK OIEJFLSDKJFKLSDJFLSJLKFJSDKLFJ

chatsnap hes such an old man 😭

true lmao if you dont have social media i immediately dont trust you

not the i just washed my hands tiktok 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

HE FEELS STRANGELY PERCIEVED RN KJFLSJFLKSDJ IDK WHY THIS IS SO FUNNY TO ME BUT IM LIKE LEGIT LAUGHING

DO IT BESTIE BITE HIM CHOMP CHOMP

“my eyes are stinging” hes such a baby 😭

“MY SIGH”TS ALL FUZZY” SJFKDSLJFLKDSJFLKDSJFLK

“are you all right” “I dont know :(’ i cant handle this my face hurts from smiling lksjflkjafklj

he has a kitchenaid stand mixer omg thats so sexy

ok but has anyone ever gotten salmonella from raw cookie dough bc i think thats just a myth

fuck u for that one vampy

wow he could never deal with my chronically ill ass

WAIT IS IT WAP

NOPE ITS BETTER LSDFJSDKLFJDS

I agree body is absolutely an instrumental masterpiece

I KNEW HE KNOWS SOME TIKTOK DANCES I KNEW IT

“I know youre kinda into that (getting smacked in the face)” SHUT UPPPPPPP SKJFSKDLJFDS

NOT HIM TWERKING SLKFJSDKLFJDSKLFJDSKL

YES YN GET THAT VIDEO AND BLACKMAIL HIM

“I think i popped something” ok old man 😭

why is the word wench so funny lkfjslkfjdslkfjsdlkfj

dont hand it over i want to see him snap

OH SHIT HE JUST JUMPED THE TABLE LSDFJSDKLFJLKDNMNXCMNJKHOIUIOEUR

oooooooooooo

OH MY GOD AGAIN SHE REALLY IS BOLD SLKDFJDSKLFJLSKDJFLKJFS

not guerrilla warfare 😭😭😭😭

do it bestie give him a concussion he deserves it

“no piece of art could ever compare to her” 🥺🥺

“remember that time you told me making out was childish” “no” i hate him 😭

THERE IT IS AGAIN “sex isnt the only way he can feel close to someone anymore” SHUT THE FUCK UP IM SOBBING

this reminds me of the dehydrated intercourse with demonrry

“don’t care, relationships are about sharing’ hes so sdjfksldjfklsjf

DO IT BESTIE KICK HIS KNEECAPS IN

suing disney for false advertisement 😭

THIS SCENE IS KILLING ME LKJFKLSJFLDSJ “just pucker your lips over it” “You have actual brain damage, dont you?” DREA I LOVE YOU KSDJFLDSKJFLKSDJ

how do those bubbles taste babe

ok drea wtf i was so happy and now this??????

“everything’s wrong” NO SHUT UP SHUT UP ITS HAPPY HOURS

not the boob privileges 😭

WAIT THIS IS FROM THE BSE MV ISNT IT “dance is just so hot rn” “depressing shades are just so hot rn”

NOT HIM GETTING ALL STUTTERY WHEN HE ASKS HER IF SHE WANTS A DRAWER 🥺

NO ONE HAS EVER BEEN THIS GENTLE WITH HIM BEFORE WTFFFFFFFF IM CRYING

“youre so fucking cute, my baby” me when i see literally any picture of him

JELLO HAS a STRONGER BACKBONE THAN THIS KSFJSDKLFJDSKLFJ

“betrayed. objectified. taken advantage of. used. “ i hate him sm 😭😭

OH MY GOD IS SHE GONNA SHAVE HIS FACE THATS SO CUTE IM

SHE ISsSSSSS IM SQUEALING

stop him worrying she’ll think it's weird and wont want to do it 🥺

“bold of you to assume id ever be convicted” PLS DREA LAKFJDKSLFJ

“the more you talk, the more appealing manslaughter sounds” I CHOKED DLSKFJDSKLFJDKSJFDSKLJ

HIM WHISTLING TO GET HER ATTENTION WHY IS THAT SO CUTE

Im sorry but its really funny to me how you wrote the sentence “wrong metal, he thinks ironically” … get it ? like IRONically lkfjdslkfj im sorry i’ll show myself out

“this boy?” what a fucking cutie i want to kick him

I forgot what a bop helpless is thanks for reminding me im gonna go listen to the entire soundtrack again-

theyre so fucking cute i hate them

so yea bascally this is the best thing ive ever read and i love you so much and my face hurts from smiling :)))

[hawksmagnolia]

In times of sickness we all need a hero.

Darcy is sick so Clint, Nat and Sam send her a hero to save the day. 

A/N: Based on the prompt: “What do you mean you’re sick? You’re my partner in crime!”

Warning: Fluff, bathtime snuggles, sweet Bucky

“What do you mean you’re sick?! You’re my partner in crime! Who else is going to encourage me to do dumb shit?”

Darcy sniffled through the phone. “Clint, you’re perfectly capable in doing dumb shit all on your own.”

Clint considered this. “Well, yeah. But it’s not as much fun without you. Plus who is going to warn me when Nat is coming? Wilson sucks at being the look out. He gets distracted.”

“Sam gets flirted with. You get distracted. You’re the walking, talking poster child for ADHD. You’re like one of those monkeys who ate all the cocaine at that drug lord’s house down in Miami. Although you’d probably be calmer on coke, pretty sure it’s just like super Adderall.”

“Ha ha. Very funny.”

She sniffed again. “I’m going back to laying on my couch in misery and watching Hallmark Christmas movies until I feel better. Stay out of Tony’s expensive espresso or you’ll die and we won’t know because you’ll be twitching for another 48 hours.”

“Spoilsport. Call me if you need anything.” Clint made kissy noises into the phone and hung up.

Clint looked over at Sam and Nat. Natasha looked bemused and Sam looked annoyed. Which was his normal state around Clint.

“I do NOT get distracted.” Sam grumbled.

“You do get flirted with a lot though.” Natasha pinched his cheek and he batted her hand away. 

“What about me?!” Cried Clint and Natasha kissed him on his pouting lips. “I threaten to kill people who flirt with you.” Clint smiled fondly at her.

“Now what?” Sam eyed Clint suspiciously. “I know you’re up to something but since we have Nat here I feel much safer.”

Clint cut his eyes at Sam. “You feel safer with her? She’s an assassin!”

Nat thumped Clint on the back of the head. “So are you. Give me your phone. He won’t expect you to be capable of this kind of manipulation.”

Clint looked hurt and Nat kissed him again as she took the phone from his hands. “We all know the stupid is an act.” She held the phone to his face to unlock it and then began to type on the screen. Clint leaned over to watch her and a smile blossomed on the archer’s face. 

“Oh Nat. When you’re good…you’re good.” He plucked the phone from her fingers and held the screen for Sam to read. 

“Damn girl. You almost sound like Clint in that text. Except it has proper spelling and grammar.”

“Not many schools in the carnival life.” Clint shrugged. “Doesn’t affect my aim. Find bad guy, shoot bad guy. The end.”

“Will you two idiots shut up? I’m setting the trap, let’s see if he takes the bait.” She pressed ‘send’ on the text and then spun around in her chair to watch the monitor screen of the gym where their mark, also known as James Buchanan Barnes, was working out.

Clint pulled out a box of caramel popcorn and kicked his feet up onto the desk where Natasha immediately shoved them off.

“Really Barton? Popcorn?”

He held out the box to Sam. “Want some?” 

“I’m not sure why I’m still surprised by anything you do.”

Natasha shushed them as she saw Bucky glance at his watch before re-stacking his weights and going to his bag to get his phone.

“Hook, line and sinker.”  Natasha smiled smugly as they watched Bucky pack up his bag and jog out of the gym.

——————————

Darcy laid on her couch in a pile of blankets as she wallowed in self pity. She felt awful, with a congested head and fever. Everything ached. Downfall of living with so many super people? None of them got sick but somehow they managed to bring home many, many germs to those of the non-super people variety. She coughed and considered calling Clint back so she could whine and then guilt him into bringing her food. She had food here but it was not food she wanted. 

She had just picked up her phone when there was a knock at her door. She looked back at it before pressing her phone screen to unlock the door. 

When the door opened Darcy desperately wished she had died and this was now heaven. Because that was preferable to the reality of the super hot super soldier actually seeing her looking like a hot mess. 

And, dear gods of thunder, he looked super hot. His hair was damp and loose around his face and he was dressed like he’d just left the gym. His tank top showed off every single defined muscle of his arms and was just clingy enough to give a hint of those abs while his shorts rode low on his hips. He was also looking at her oddly. Which is when she realized she was not only staring, but staring with her mouth wide open. She snapped her jaw shut and felt her face burn with something other than fever. 

“Darcy? You okay?”

“Um. Yeah. Peachy.” She tried to flash a smile but ended up coughing again. She heard a thump on her table and then a broad, warm hand was rubbing her back. 

“Jesus. You’re burning up.”

She waved a limp hand at him. “I’m not quite dead yet.”

“Clint said you were sick and asked me to check on you. So I brought that egg drop soup you like since you can’t get me sick.” He pointed to brown paper bag on her tiny kitchen table.

She peered up at him. “How do you know what soup I like?”

Bucky smiled at her. “You order it every single night we get Chinese.”

“Oh. Oh!” She yelped as Bucky reached over the back of the couch and scooped her into his arms. She hissed as his prosthetic pressed against her fevered skin. 

“We gotta get you cooled down Doll.” He carried her with ease into her bathroom. She was suddenly very, very grateful that she’d actually put her laundry down the chute earlier instead of leaving it in a pile on the floor. Keeping her cradled in his arms, he sat on the edge of the oversized tub and turned the tap on.

“What are you doing?” Darcy’s voice was a little muffled from being buried into his chest. She peeked up at his face.

“Told you. Getting you cooled down.” He kicked off his sneakers and reached down to peel off his socks. 

“But why are you getting…less clothing-ish?”

Bucky laughed as he checked the water. “I’m getting in with you. I can watch your temperature with my arm easier than any other way.”

Darcy squeaked. “In with me?!”

He laughed again and kissed the top of her head which sent little tingles all the way to her toes. “I promise your dignity is safe with me. I’ll keep my shorts on.”

“What if I don’t want my dignity to be safe?” Darcy mumbled and Bucky chuckled.

Bucky turned the water off and shifted her again as he yanked his tank top over his head. Darcy tried very hard not to stare but she was 1000% sure she failed. 

He stood, her still cradled in his arms and against that gloriously naked chest, and stepped into the tub. He sat, putting her between his legs with her back against his chest. She shivered a bit and he wrapped his arms around her.

“Sorry doll. But this-“ He plucked at her tank top. “has got to go.”

Darcy felt herself blush, she wore nothing under it, but Bucky leaned forward and whispered in her ear. “You have absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about. You’re gorgeous and should know that.” His lips grazed her ear as he slid his prosthetic hand over her stomach and lifted her shirt with his other. Once the soaked fabric was tossed aside he settled her back against him. His thumb slowly traced a circle on her abdomen while he used the other to run through her hair. Darcy practically purred as his fingers slid across her scalp.

“How long have you been like this?” His voice rumbled against her back.

“Mmm…I don’t know. A couple days? What day is it?” 

“Have you been miserable the whole time? Why didn’t you call someone?”

“Clint and Nat have been checking on me. Steve came by too and dropped off some Gatorade and cold medicine. Sometimes you super people forget that not all of us have magic immune systems. Normally I’d have Thor bring me Asgardian medicine but he’s off in space doing space things.”

He pulled her a little closer and she snuggled into him. The water felt amazing on her skin and Bucky was warm enough to ward off the chill of the water and her fever finally breaking. 

“Next time call me. I’ll come stay with you.”

Darcy craned her neck to look up at him. “Don’t you have world saving to do though? I’m pretty sure that’s way more important than babysitting me.”

Bucky pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll decide what’s important.”

“Does this mean I’m important?”

“I don’t go climbing in bathtubs with just anyone.”

She sighed dramatically. “Of course you pick now to do it.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow at her. “You sayin’ you want to do it again?” His Brooklyn drawl crept into his voice.

“Only if you want to. But, I’d be either dead or a complete idiot to say no. Please know if I am asked about this later I will blame fever.”

“Then we will make a habit of this…especially when you’re better.” He flashed a wicked grin at her that made the heat she felt throughout her body have nothing to do with her illness. “But until then, out we go. I don’t want you gettin’ too cold.” He slipped from behind her and out of the tub, reaching to grab a towel. Darcy swallowed hard at the sight of his ass in water soaked clingy shorts. She crossed her arms over her chest self consciously.

“You done lookin’?”

“Um…no? I mean, I can lie and say yes but no. I’m not.” 

Bucky smiled and held out his hand and Darcy slowly stood on unsteady legs as she attempted to keep her chest covered. Gently he wrapped her in a towel and sat her on the side of the tub before wrapping one around his waist. Grabbing the wet fabric of his shorts, he pulled them down his legs and tossed them aside.

Darcy gaped at him. Her brain shorted out and the only noise to escape her mouth was a wheezy gasp. 

Bucky pretended not to notice as he grabbed another towel and tenderly began to dry the ends of her hair that had fallen into the water. She closed her eyes as he ran his fingers through her tangled curls until was able to braid it out of her face. 

“Where did you learn to braid?” 

Bucky was pulling a hair tie from around his wrist and he paused. “My sister. She was constantly running around with wild hair but she’d let me brush and braid it at night after her bath.” He secured her braid and stood. “Out of your wet stuff. I’ll be back in a minute, going to try and find you dry clothes.” He disappeared into her bedroom. 

She heard him moving around in her bedroom. The idea of James Buchanan Barnes going into her underwear drawer was enough to make her yelp. He stuck his head back into the bathroom. 

“You okay?”

“I..I can find dry clothes.”

He searched her face for a moment and then slowly nodded. “I’ll clean up in here.”

Darcy wobbled her way into her bedroom and stopped in surprise. Her bed had been carefully spread up with the quit and sheets pulled back so she could climb in. A bottle of Gatorade sat on her bedside- it wasn’t her normal flavor so she wondered if it was from him. She pulled on another tank top (this one with a built in bra) and dry boy shorts, kicking her wet ones aside. She was sitting on the edge of her bed attempting to get a pair of shorts up her legs when he came in still just wearing a towel around his waist. Without being asked, he knelt at her feet and slid them up for her. His fingers grazed over her bare flesh and it broke out into chill bumps.

“Into bed with you.” He gestured and she crawled up towards her pillows. He sat on the edge and pulled the blankets up. 

“Are you leaving?” She whispered.

“Do you want me to?”

She shook her head. 

“I’m going to put your soup up and grab dry stuff for me. I’ll be right back.” He kissed her forehead again and padded barefoot out of her room.

Darcy closed her eyes for just a second, she wasn’t asleep, just resting her eyes. She opened them again when her bed shifted. Bucky sat there in another tank top and shorts. His hair was scraped back from his face and the light from the bathroom cast shadows across his face. 

“Hey. You good?”

Darcy nodded sleepily and he went to stand up but she grabbed his hand. “Stay.”

“I ain’t leavin’ doll. Just going to lay on the couch.”

She shook her head. “No. Stay here.”

Bucky’s eyes widened slightly. “In bed? With you?”

She nodded.

“You sure?”

She nodded again. He carefully went to the other side and slid under the covers behind her. Darcy sighed when she felt his body pressed against hers, her legs tangling with his. He tucked her head under his chin and wrapped his arms around her waist.

“Not exactly how I expected our first time in bed to go.”

“What?!” 

Bucky laughed. “Sweetheart, I’ve wanted to do this for months.”

“I’m sorry. I must be delirious. I could have sworn you said you’ve been wanting to get into my bed for months.”

“Well, me into yours or you into mine. I ain’t picky.”

Darcy shifted and then rolled to face him. Her eyes roved over his face and she traced the angle of his jaw with her fingertips. “So, why the hell haven’t you done something before now?”

Bucky shrugged a little. “Figured you weren’t interested.”

“Are you high? How would I not be interested in you? Have you seen yourself?”

“I’ve got…baggage.”

“So does everyone. But you also have lots of muscles, pretty eyes and a great smile. And you’re a good person. You’re here, in my bed, making sure I don’t die.”

“You’re not going to die from a cold.”

“I might. This is why you have to stay. To protect my life. It’s very important to my health that you stay.”

“Well, if it’s that important then I’ll stay.” He pressed his lips to her forehead and left them there. His warm breath slid over her skin and she pressed a little closer. “You keep that up and I’m makin’ no promises about your dignity being safe with me.”

Darcy picked up his arm and draped it over her side where he curled his fingers against her skin.

“What if I say I’m feeling much better? Like I’m almost cured?”

“I’ll still be here when you’re actually well.”

“But..!”

Bucky cut her off by pressing his lips to hers and when she gasped and opened her mouth, his tongue slid over her lips deepening the kiss.

When he broke off from her, she looked a little dazed. “You’re really good at that.”

He gently kissed her again. “I’m really good at a lot of things. But for now, you need to rest.”

“Promise you’ll show me?”

“Hell yes.”

——————

“Told you it would work.” Clint tiled the box of popcorn to dump the crumbs into his mouth. “Wasn’t expecting him to go wandering the halls in a towel though.”

Sam nodded slowly. “I have to admit Barton, I’m actually kind of impressed.”

Natasha tapped her fingernail against her lips. “I think this is exactly the push they needed. Bravo Clint.”

Clint shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m a genius sometimes. Can we go eat now? I’m starving.”

“You just killed an entire box of Cracker Jacks. How the hell are you still hungry?”

“It takes a lot of food to power my big brain.”

“Come on Sam, let’s go feed him before he starts drinking coffee again on top of pre sugar. I don’t want to have to get him out of a tree again.”

“That was ONE TIME. And I could have gotten out. Eventually. I was almost out of my belt when Wanda got to me.”

“You were almost out of your pants and you damn near scandalized the poor girl.”

“Shut up Wilson. Food time. FEED ME SEYMOUR.”

Natasha, who had stood up, leaned over and kissed Clint. “If you shut up, I’ll buy a pizza just for you.”

“Deal.”

@the-ss-horniest-book-club @eurynome827 @cchellacat @daughterofsteven @sevans-is-my-weakness @sallycanwait68 @nano--raptor @buckys-broody-muffin @godofplumsandthunder​ @book-dragon-13​ @fuckyeahdarcylewis​ @fuckyeahwintershock​

[spongeguyandlelouchvibridankia]

Christmas Bet: A Christmas gift to @ArendAlphaEagle

@arendalphaeagle

It was Christmas day, and no one was more excited than Milo Murphy and Amanda Lopez-Murphy.

 Because, well, they were sort of in a…

 “So, it’s time to find out who won our little bet!”, Milo called out, eyebrows wiggling as he looked at his wife on his side on their bed.

 Amanda, already turned too, taunted. “Came to see me win? I hope you’re dressed for my celebration, I’ve got a whole parade outside, waiting to declare my superiority!”

 Milo, already dressed, with a jumper that stated that he was “Number 1”, threw off the covers and jumped up. “I want to see you try!”

 Amanda got up too, fully dressed with a Jumper that pointed to his and said “Is me”, and grinned. “Bring it, Murphy!”

 They then kissed.

 “I love you”, she whispered flirtingly.

 “Yo también te quiero”, Milo whispered back with a wink.

 The two then ran off, like children on Christmas morning, ready for victory.

 Already up was the product of their happy union, Miguel Murphy, 9 years old and visibly confused as his parents shook him up awake.

 “Come on, Miguel! Wake up! It’s CHRISTMAS!”, Milo shouted, nudging his son awake.

 Amanda resorted to air horns. “It is equivocal that you WAKE UP, MIJO!”

 Miguel turned to his parents with an annoyed face. “Guys, a child needs 11 hours of sleep, and if my calculcations are correct…”

 “And they always are, light of my life!”, Amanda complimented.

 “Yes, well, then, it’s only been 10 hours. Please return in an hour before I am fully awake and forced to partake in “holiday joy” before my time.”, Miguel made air quotations before closing his eyes.

 Then, Murphy’s Law intervened, making his bedpost crack and run off.

 “CHRISTMAS, BABY!”, it cried, running down the stairs.

 Thankfully, his “Emergency Bed Post if Bed Post cracks and leaves to partake in “holiday joy” device worked perfectly!

 Miguel, grunting, rubbed his eyes and put his glasses on, which proceeded to wash his eyes with water.

“I’m up, I’m up…”, he regretfuly admitted, and fter much squeeing from his parents, he was taken downstairs to see his presents.

 Downstairs, Miguel immediately counted 5 presents, thanks to his A.I glasses “Assessing Familial Failings Like Endless Curse Kit” (or A.F.F.L.E.C.K for short, which is why it always spoke like Ben Affleck’s Batman).

 “3 PRESENTS FROM SANTA CLAUS, BUT TWO OTHERS ARE CLEARLY LACED WITH FAMILIAL GENETICS! IF ONLY ONE OF YOUR PARENTS WAS CALLED MARTHA, THEN I COULD REALLY RELATE!”

 “Thanks, A.F.F.L.E.C.K, that will be all. do please play some German Classical Music, circa 1897. It is introspective, and I need to introspect.”

 Miguel looked at the two humongus presents before him, towering over his small stature.

 They were so big, that even Milo and Amanda failed to reach.

 The two bright eyed faces, with wide smiles, awaited impatiently for Miguel to make a move.

 “…You gonna open your presents, little man?”, Milo asked, anxious.

 “Yes, please, Mijo! I need to know if I wo… I mean, if you like them.”

 Miguel looked back at the screen with a knowing look.

 “They think I have been fooled by such a trope. It would almost be funny if it wasn’t so pitiful.”

 Avoiding the 3 of the 5 trees that tried to crush him with immense ease, Miguel moved towards the presents, feeling the wrapping paper.

 Scratching his chin, as if in deep thought, he looked at his parents with a bored look. “Madre, Father, may you hand me my Christmas list, please?”

 He blushed furiously, flustered. “I would, but I can’t reach the place you put it on the fridge.”

 Milo ran out and gave it back, still grinning like an idiot.

 Miguel cleared his throat and adjusted A.F.F.L.E.C.K to translate it audibly to Czech, just to make it a little challenging.

 “Ahem. Well, if memory serves here, I requested 3 presents from Mr. Claus, clearly seen here. Does the jury see my exhibit as true?”

 Milo and Amanda nodded, still not noticing the point.

 Miguel then looked at the presents before him. “And these two other ones… Seem not to be on my list.”

 “…No, but we thought you deserved something extra, our love!”, Amanda said, pinching his cheek.

 After rubbing it, Miguel continued. “Well… There is no other reason?”

 Milo and Amanda gulped. He was on to them, but maybe they could fool him with an age old technique.

 “…What did you say?”

 Miguel face palmed and opened the presents at the same time, revealing the largest telescope in the world, that could see to the end of the universe and beyond (Milo) and a Time Period Broadcaster that showed you history as it happened, and in your very own living room (Amanda)!

 Milo and Amanda then began to brag.

 “I knew it! I knew he’d prefer a telescope! All the hints were pointing to it! Like when he said Telescope that one time! Was that a sneeze? Never mind, it was Telescope! I can’t WAIT to see you build it, son!”, Milo said, pride in his eyes.

 Amanda rolled hers. “Oh, come on! Is that really what he wanted? It’s clear that he wanted a chance to view history with no danger to himself! Our son is all about knowledge, but he wants to look to the past to improve the world! Didn’t you see him spell that out in his cereal?”

 “Actually, I was writing down a new symphony, but that’s besides the point.”, Miguel said, adding another 3 notes once he was done.

 Turning to his parents, he addressed them. “I am sure you want me to tell you who won…”

 “ME!”, Milo shouted, dancing in front of Amanda.

 “Oh, don’t you start trying to charm me! I’ll dance sexier!”, she said, mom dancing.

 Miguel sighed and turned on A.F.F.L.E.C.K.

 “WHAT IS THY BIDDING, MASTER?!”

 “Air horn protocol, please.”

 One loud air horn later, Miguel felt like he could actually talk to his parents.

 “Guys, look, I really do appreciate all this, and you are correct with your assumptions that I didn’t put my number one on the list, but well…”

 And now, while Milo and Amanda were surprised, Miguel felt a little… Shy.

 He was not much for emotions, but even child prodigy’s have to feel sometimes.

 “…I was kind of hoping for something else. I’m sorry if I sound very ungrateful, that is not what I intend.”

 “What were you hoping for?”, Milo and Amanda asked, and Miguel, who was busy storing the gifts (he was going to use them, even if they weren’t exactly what he wanted), walks over to them, very flustered.

 “Well… Due to understandable reasons, you two are very busy. And… Well…”

 He closes his eyes and forces it out.

 “I was hoping we could spend a quiet Christmas together! If that’s ok.”

 Milo and Amanda share a glance, the bet forgotten.

 And they hug their boy.

 “Most definitely, Mijo!”, Milo says, kissing his forehead.

 “There’s nothing I’d like more!”, Amanda adds, kissing him too.

 Miguel groans, wiping the kisses, but his “holiday joy” is clear.

 “…Thanks, guys.”

 He then sets A.F.F.L.E.C.K up again. “A.F.F.L.E.C.K, do put some festive music on. I am in the mood.”

 “AS YOU WISH, SIR!”

 Suddenly, Mariah Carey’s “All I Want For Christmas Is You” starts playing, and Milo and Amanda get all kissy with each other.

 “Ce La Vie, I guess…”, Miguel shrugs, and smiles at his parents as Christmas begins properly.

[starkatana]

I Want U (Part 1)

Summary:

Your mom stops by to visit and makes a deal.

Angst

Dabi x Reader

Note:

I was in the mood to write something angsty, so using this prompt list by @gvgvdans . I tried my best to incorporate most of them into the story.

Also, I listened to a lot of Alison Wonderland when writing this!

I Want U – Alison Wonderland

Hope you enjoy it!

There is a consistent pounding at the door. Dabi wakes up from his long night out for the league. He grumbles as he walks over to the door. Looking out the peephole is a small woman he's never seen before. He opens it and leans against the frame looking at her.

“I'm sorry I must have the wrong apartment.”

“It's no problem.” He goes to close the door when she put her hand on the door, stopping him from closing it.

“Do you know where I can find y/f/n y/l/n?”

“Why?” Dabi looked her up and down. He had never seen this woman before.

“I'm her mom.”

After she said it, he saw it. You two had the same eyes.

“She hasn't been answering my messages, and I want to make sure she's okay. I was in town and wanted to visit.”

“Uh...” he wasn't sure what to do next let her in and talk to her? Send her on her way and let you decide. He knew you weren't on the best of terms with your parents but from what he did know about her. Why was your mom was here?

“I'm sorry I don't know her.” And he goes to shut the door when she steps in blocking him from closing the door.

“You may not "know" her, but I know you. Dabi.”

You came home late. Far after your mom was gone and Dabi acted like nothing was wrong, but their conversation was going through his head.

“Do we have a deal?" her face was devious. It usually wouldn’t bother him, and he’d tell anyone to fuck off, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that she was right. He had a soft spot for you, you were his only weakness, and somehow she knew that.

Dabi came home but wasn't his usual self. He just stood there with his head hung low, and shoulders slumped.

“What's up?”

“I just . . .”

“Yeah?” you sit up, stopping whatever it is your doing and put your full attention on your boyfriend.

He gives you a weak smile. “I don't know.” He puts his hand on his forehead before pushing his hair back. “I think...I'm in desperate need for a hug.”

You hug him without hesitating, and slowly his arms wrap around you, and he holds you close your breath in the scent of his jacket and skin.

“I think. . . I forgot what human contact felt like. It's been a while.” You continue to hold him, giving him a small squeeze. “This feels nice.” He wraps his arms around you, and you feel him bury his face into your hair and neck "Do you mind if we stay like this for a little longer?"

“Not at all.”

A few days pass, and Dabi kept his distance from you, but you didn't think it was anything different from how he was normally. He came by when he wanted and left without a word. What was odd was whenever you made advances towards him or tried to greet him, he wasn't himself.

You were eating dinner by yourself when he came home.

“Welcome home!”

Silence. You sit up and look at him. Then pretending to be him, "Hi, my gorgeous beautiful girlfriend who I adore! I'm home." And then you make a kissy face at him. “I missed you!” you sang.

You look up from your food at him. He's leaning against the wall just staring at you. His stare is cold and dead. “What's up with you?”

“I just think it’s cute.”

You smile and tilt your head. Thinking you are not hearing him correctly.

“It's cute because you think I care about you.”

You stop, blink numerous times, and get up from the couch. Did you hear him right? You make your way over to him. “Dabi... I know you care about me.”

“I don't care about anyone, Doll Face.”

“Excuse me?”

“I think you forgot that I'm the bad guy and I don't care about anyone but myself.”

You scoff. “What the fuck is this attitude?”

“It’s a reminder.”

You roll your eyes. “For what?”

“That I’m using you and that you mean nothing to me.”

“Dude.” You raise your eyebrows, where was this coming from? “You need to check yourself before I knock you out.”

“This is over.”

“Whoa.” You felt a pit in your stomach. “What?”

“Do I need to spell it out for you?” he rolls his eyes as he stands up, shoulders still slumped, and fists in his pockets. “We. Are Over.”

“Over what? I don't get it Dabs.”

He shrugged and shook his head. “I don't care anymore. Do what you want and leave me alone.”

“Dabi!” You grab his shoulder and try to turn him around. He quickly shrugs you off, and you immediately jump in front of him, holding your arms out, “What the fuck?”

He doesn't make eye contact with you. He keeps his head high, only looking down at you from the corner of his eye with a snarl on his face.

“Was this all just a joke to you? You know what? I don’t want to know. I want to know what's on your mind."

“You want me to be that honest? ”

You raise an eyebrow.

“I gave up on you a long time ago. ”

You felt your shoulders slump, but you kept your ground.

“Touya.”

Something in Dabi snapped he grabbed your wrist and pulled you close you stared back at him not backing down.

“This isn't something Touya would say to me.”

He let's go of you before shoving his hands into his coat.

“Does hurting me make you feel good? ”

His face and body didn't change, but he kept his eye contact with you.

“I gave you everything I had. I still need you. ”

“Sometimes, things don’t go your way Doll Face. ”

That one hurt you. Things never went your way. Until Dabi came in but even then things weren't how you wanted it. It was how Dabi wanted things.

“Fine. Don’t come back. ”

You step away to let him pass. Dabi takes a few steps, and now he's behind you.

“You’ll never see me again."

This time you don't respond.

"Okay? ”

You're so full of anger that tears form and start to fall. Were you sad? You knew you were mad.

“Stop crying. ”

You snap up and try to ignore him.

He's walking out of the apartment, and you hear the door open. "Y/n, of course, we meant something.”

You turn to look at him, making sure to make eye contact one last time. "Your eyes can be so cruel … ” seeing him hurt didn't make you feel good, but it brought you some sense of satisfaction, and he left. Hearing the door click you fell to your knees, bawling your eyes out. All that pent up emotion just came out in the form of tears.

“I can never do anything right, can I!?" You cried and cried. Nothing in your life felt right until Dabi came you two were such a fit for each other how did it all change so fast?

Then you heard your phone go off. Picking up the phone, it was your mom. You knew she was in town and had purposefully been avoiding her and it was only a matter of time. You wiped off the rest of your tears and let out a big sigh trying to stabilize your breaths before answering the phone.

“Hi, mom.”

“Oh! You picked up.”

“Yeah. I've been busy with work lots of numbers to crunch and paperwork to do.”

“All work and no play and you end up like your mother.”

You let out a pity, chuckle, “Of course, mother.”

“Well, I'll just cut to the chase I'm leaving tomorrow, and I was hoping I could see you before I leave?”

You bite your lip desperate not to let her know.

“C’mon, it doesn't have to be long just some coffee I just want to see my baby girl.”

“Fine. Coffee.”

“Sounds good dear! Do you have a favorite spot? Oh or that fancy dessert one we used to go to when you were a kid!”

You let out a light laugh; it had been a while since you even thought about that place. “There's this new cafe that just opened up it's pretty tasty we could meet there?”

“Sounds good dear is tomorrow at  pm good for you?”

“Sure.”

“Sounds good I can't wait to see you.”

“Yeah.”

“Y/n, I love you.”

“Yeah, I know.” and you hang up. You weren’t in the mood to fight with your mom. You just figured agreeing to see her meant less time bickering on the phone and more time to process what just happened with Dabi. It didn’t make sense. You went through what you could’ve done or what could’ve happened. Nothing came to mind. What the fuck was his problem?

~Part 2~

[holylulusworld]

Absent father – Part 7

Summary: Reader and Dean have friends with benefits agreement. When the reader gets pregnant Dean makes the mistake of his life…making her leave…

Pairing: Dean x Reader, OMC Josephine (JoJo)

Warnings: language, daddy! Dean, fluff, tension, making out (barely), fingering, oral (female receiving), smut, protected sex

Absent father Masterlist

MoC set during Season 12

Watching your daughter sleep fear is creeping into your thoughts. What if Lucifer gets hold on her? Starting to shake you embrace yourself until you feel strong arms slung around your waist.

“No one will harm her. I swear no one will hurt her,” Dean whispers in your ear.

Pressing you against his chest he nuzzles his nose into your hair, sniffing at it he sighs. Relaxing in his arms you close your eyes for a moment.

“If I would’ve stayed back then, would you’ve been happy to have a child with me?” You ask.

“I always regretted making you leave, but honestly I would’ve been an awful partner and father. Having the mark, being a demon. Imagining what I could’ve done to you or our child scares me.”

“I see…”

“I want you and our child more than anything else. When I heard you kept our baby, that I’ve got a child I felt like the happiest and the saddest man in the world at the same time.”

“We need to make sure Jojo is safe,” you whisper.

“No one will get close to her. I’ll defend our daughter till my last breath.”

Turning around in his embrace you lock eyes with him. Searching his face you know he’s telling the truth.

Tilting his head he wants to brush his lips over yours, but he stops, afraid you push him away.

Biting your lower lip you cup his face with your hands. Standing on tiptoes you press a soft kiss on his lips.

Smiling against your lips he holds you tight, crushing his plump lips onto yours he groans when you open your mouth for him. Snaking his tongue with yours he presses his hot body against yours and you can feel his hard crotch against your core.

Gasping you move your arms around his neck to keep him in place. Squealing Jojo watches her parents giving each other kisses.

“Kissy.” Josephine babbles.

"Uh-oh, she saw us," he stammers. Giggling you look at Dean’s flushed face.

“Yeah. Relax. She knows what a kiss is.”

"How? Did she see you kissing someone else?" Dean asks worriedly.

“No, she’s saw it in a book.”

“Wait she’s got a sex book?”

“What? No, it’s a cat kissing the cheek of a puppy, you little PERVERT (and you spell the word again). I explained to her that people kiss other people when they really like them.”

“So you really like me?” Dean rasps.

Looking into his emerald eyes you bite your lower lip. “So full of yourself again?”

Humming he gets closer again, kissing your forehead he smiles at his giggling daughter.

"She's happy to see us together," he whispers in your ear and you start to shiver. God, you can't fall for him again.

“We should make her sleep again and…”

“And?” Dean asks starring down at you.

“Get some sleep too…”

“Sleep?”

“Yeah, sleep Dean,” you whisper moving your hand over his chest.

"Good, let's get some sleep then."

Half an hour later…Dean’s room…

Pushing you against the wall in his room Dean tilts his head to suck a hickey at your neck. Moaning you move your hands under his shirt.

Ripping your blouse open Dean doesn’t care that the buttons fly into all directions. Growling he licks his lips at the sight of your breasts.

“So fucking hot.”

"He language! No, swear words!" You scold in your mommy tone.

“God your mommy tone turns me on even more.”

“Going to punish you if you use your dirty mouth in front of our daughter.”

"Baby you can punish me, spank me, don't care, as long as I get you naked right now."

Deftly unbuttoning your pants he shoves one hand into your panties. Pressing his fingers against your clit he feels how wet you already are.

“Fuck, so wet.”

“I warn you, stop swearing!”

“I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Good. Get naked Winchester.”

“Yes, ma’am your daddy is going to get both of us naked.”

“Don’t daddy me!”

“You always loved me being your daddy.”

Humming you kick off your shoes, tossing your ruined blouse aside you grab the hem of Dean's shirt to kiss him roughly.

Breaking the kiss you start shoving his shirt upward, tossing it aside too you push him against the wall.

Sliding your tongue from his stomach up to his chest you make him groan.

“God Baby, stop being so hot or I’ll come in my pants.”

Moving your hands over his chest you look up at him. Licking your lips you strip your pants off.

Opening his pants too Dean slides them down. Smirking he calls out “pudding!" and you can hold back the laughter.

“Really?”

“You liked it when I told you the story.” He insists.

“Hmmm…yeah. Now I want pudding.”

“What? No!” Stepping out of his pants he stalks toward you like a wild animal circling his prey.

Pushing you onto his bed he hovers over you in an instant. Giggling at his hungry expression you move your hands into his boxers. Slowly stroking his cock you lock eyes with him.

Groaning he rips off your bra, followed by your panties.

“You need to stop or I’ll come in your hand.”

Humming you release his cock while he starts sucking at your hardening nipples. Moving from one to another nipple he makes you whine under his assault.

Kissing down your stomach he’s nipping and sucking at the soft skin, leaving marks on his way. Spreading your legs open he dives between them, sliding his tongue through your wet folds.

Whining you move your hands through his hair while he starts sucking at your sensitive clit. Tugging at his hair you scream in pleasure when he sends you over the edge.

“Missed the sweet noises you make,” Dean rasps in his sexy low voice.

“God, I’m so doomed.” You whimper.

“Yeah, going to doom you right here and now.”

"Fuck, I hate you so much, Winchester.”

“Uh-huh…Who used a swear word now?” He asks smirking.

“Fuck it, fuck me…now! Four years, Dean.”

“Shit, yes…wait…condom.”

Stroking his cock a few times Dean shoves the condom over his hard length. Placed between your legs he admires the sight for a few moments.

Watching him you groan frustrated when he slides his hard cock through your wet folds.

“Stop teasing I need you now.” You scold.

“Hmmm…god your mommy tone is so fucking hot.”

Chuckling at your expression Dean lines himself up with your entrance. Teasing you he only pushes the tip in.

“I swear if you don’t start fucking me right now I’ll spank your ass later,” you grunt.

“Fuck Baby…I think I need to spank your cute ass.” He rasps pushing in completely.

Moaning you arch your back when he starts moving. With punishing thrusts Dean starts fucking you. This is not making love or just sex this is pure desperation to feel you again.

“Dean, more, fuck…still so good at it,” you whimper when he moves your legs over his brought shoulders. Fucking deeper into you due to the new position he growls at your tightness.

“Baby, so tight…god could die inside of you right now. Would die as a happy man.”

"Don't you dare to die before making me come!" You scold smirking at him.

Humming he picks up the pace fucking you even harder he brushes over you g-spot over and over again.

Trembling underneath him you reach your climax screaming his name. Gasping you still meet his thrusts until he spills his cum into the condom.

Laughing he looks at your satisfied face.

“What?” You ask.

“You look so sated.”

“Maybe.”

“Baby, you looked sex hungry the whole time.” He states while removing your legs from his shoulders.

“What do you want to hear?”

“That you missed doing this with me,” Dean rasps, looking hopeful down at you.

“Yes, Dean Winchester I missed doing this with you…I missed you. Satisfied?” You grunt.

“Such a good girl. Give me a bit time and I’m going to satisfy you again…and again…and again.”

“Fine, now I need a rest but first I need to check on Jojo.”

“No, wait. I can do this. Just relax and I check on our daughter.”

Gently pulling out of you he tosses the condom in the bin. Picking his pants and shirt up her gets dressed to check on his daughter.

Sighing you grab the blanket to cover yourself, closing your eyes you hope you didn’t make another mistake by trusting Dean once again.

Smiling down at you Dean’s heart swells. Lying down next to you he kisses your shoulder softly.

“I swear I’ll never hurt you or our daughter, please give me the chance to show you that I can be the man and father you and our daughter deserve.”

Resting your head on his chest you let him hold you tight. “Okay.” Is all you say before drifting into a nightmare free slumber…

Forever Tags

@donnaintx, @screechingartisancashbailiff, @fallen-wolf22 , @curly-haired-disaster, @sister-winchesters99, @mogaruke, @the-is13, @helloitsmeamie203, @strayrosesbloom , @thewinchesterco , @hobby27, @kittycatlover18, @gh0stgurl , @marvelfansworld , @sandlee44, @unlikelysamwinchesteronahunt, @katpatrova17, @hawaiianohana15

Dean/Jensen Forever Tags 

@spnfamily-thewinchesters, @love-my-not-natural-babies​, @supernatural-bellawinchester​, @butifulsoul125, @lyinginthegingerlocks, @mirandaaustin93​, @hawaiianohana15

Absent father Tags

@love-my-not-natural-babies, @mirandaaustin93, @spnfamily-thewinchesters , @anushay1998

[mondregen]

 “Have you used a portal before?”  Minchan asks the question like he doesn’t care much about the answer. The click of his heels on the pavement is distracting, a staccato in bright pink. He’s a lot to handle in the group chat, but even more of a handful in real life. Glittery eyeshadow and perfectly manicured nails, he’s a living doll, making mock kissy faces at every person walking by who dares to stare. A force of nature if Lysander ever saw one.  “Hello? Are you listening?”

 Minchan snapping his fingers in his face brings Lysander back to reality. “Um, what? Sorry, I wasn’t… “  With a huff and a quick wave of his hand, Minchan dismisses his reply. “It doesn’t matter, does it. I’m not walking all the way to Rei’s stupid forest. I’m not going to let my baby witch do it, either.”  As always when Minchan uses this nickname of his, Lysander’s heart skips a beat. It’s one thing to read it, yet another entirely to hear it. And maybe it’s imagination, but something fond colors it, something soft. Lysander fights a smile, biting his lower lip hard. It’s somehow endearing, that particular brand of a handful Minchan is.  He drags him into some alley, its dead end around a brickwalled corner. From his jacket’s pocket he pulls a piece of white chalk, and promptly begins to draw a circle lined and filled with odd symbols on the wall closest to him. Lysander watches in awe and confusion both.  “Oh,” Minchan says, shooting him a grin over his shoulder. “It’s for the portal. You see, for some magic, we need preparation. Magic circles, sometimes little sacrifices, that sort of thing. It’s too advanced for you right now.”  Instead of dampening his mood, this revelation makes Lysander’s stomach flip in joy. “I’ll… learn this, too?”  “Of course!” Minchan finishes his work off and takes a step back, pocketing the chalk again. “You’ll learn this, and how to make potions, and, if Hiroki doesn’t tell me not to, I might just teach you some conjuring, too. Just… don’t go trying to summon some demon, yes? That never goes well.”  Once again, Lysander only half listens, too entranced by the casualness of Minchan going about his business. He squares his shoulders and places an outstretched hand into the very center of the circle. As soon as his fingers touch the chalk, it springs to life, glowing a gentle white. Minchan pulls his hand back slowly. The circle lifts off the wall, sticking to his skin like a spiderweb. It hangs in the air, still connected to Minchan’s hand. Lysander’s jaw falls open.  Of course, Minchan notices. “Neat, isn’t it? Wait until you see Qiaomeng doing it. He doesn’t even need a surface, just draws the thing in the air right away. Talented bastard.”  He falls silent, eyes closed. The glow of the circle brightens. Around it, the air flimmers like it does in the hot summer sun. Lysander inhales, catching the slightest whiff of ozone.  Minchan balls his hand into a loose fist, only his forefinger sticking out. He drags the pad of it down the length of the circle, and, little by little, it breaks open in the wake of his touch. When Minchan reaches the end, the chalk peels back in its entirety, revealing a swirl of muted purples and greens dispersed in a sea of endless black. It takes over the circle, stretching to about Minchan’s height. It stops as soon as it touches the ground.  Lysander’s heart flutters in his chest. His arms break out in goose-flesh. “Wow,” is all he manages to press out.  Minchan hums. “This is a portal. It’s like… a door, except it leads into someone’s home if that someone allows it. Rei isn’t a fan of it, but he lets us use one, anyhow.”  “Why doesn’t he like it?”  “A talented witch could trace this magic back to him. I’ll have Parfait erase as much of it after we’re done as she can, but there’ll always be some leftover in places spells were used. Rei’s mostly worried someone might have the idea to murder him in his sleep, really.” Lowering his voice, Minchan adds, “He’s got a bit of a reputation. The plants he grows are highly sought after, some impossible to get around these parts unless you want to pay a hefty sum. He has all reason to be cautious.”  Lysander makes a little noise of understanding. All he knows about Rei is that he lives in a forest -- magical and weird, as Qiaomeng had put it -- and that he’s powerful, too. He should have asked more questions.  “Anyway.” Minchan grasps him gently by the shoulders and steers him towards the portal. “It’s best if you close your eyes and keep your limbs pressed to your body until you’re back on solid ground. Got it? I’ll be right behind you.”  Before Lysander gets another word in, Minchan pushes him.  Everything goes dark.  His stomach swoops again, but not at all in joy this time. He finds himself hovering in nothingness before he’s swept away. Like a tornado toying with a skinny branch, he’s scooped up and tossed about, a deafening roar in his ears. Static sticks to his skin, crawling across it in a numbing tingle. Lysander opens his mouth to scream, but no sound makes it out.  A flash of green breaks through the dark. Lysander slams face first into a tree, its leaves shivering with the impact.  “Oh. Oh, no,” a voice close to him says. Someone places a hand on his shoulder in cadence to a wave of nausea flooding through him. Lysander retches, hunching over. The hand moves to pat his back, all gentle. “There, there. Travelling with portals is never fun, I’m afraid. He should have told you.”  He chances a look to his right, to where the voice is coming from, and is met with bare feet on mossy forest floor. Pressing the back of his hand to his mouth, he straightens slowly.  Miles and miles of forest stretch out around him, trees and bushes and a little creek gently running its course. Birdsong fills the space, lined with the rustle of leaves overhead.  Rei lives in a forest. This forest.  “Is everything alright again?” the voice asks, and the hand disappears. Lysander nods absently.  “Sorry, I… oh.”  A young man steps into his view -- the one those bare feet belong to -- and gives him an encouraging, but small smile. He’s taller than Lysander is, his hair a warm shade of blond reminiscent of honey. Something about him is… off. His skin is too perfect, his movements just shy of oily. There’s a startling darkness to his eyes. Not human, his instincts scream at him, though he passes as one well enough.  The portal buzzes. Minchan emerges with grace, touching his feet to the ground as though he were a cat leaping off the sofa. He beams at the both of them, the definition of cheeky.  “I see you’ve already met our hermit.”  The not-quite-human huffs, crossing his arms. A few heads of flowers peek through his hair, all varying shades of red. “Why did you let him go through it like this? It’s dangerous.”  “Oh, relax. Don’t talk to me about dangerous. You grow flesh-eating plants.”  “ -- that never harm anyone unless I tell them to --”  “Right. That makes it better.”  The puzzle pieces click belatedly. “Oh!” Lysander says, clutching at his chest. “You’re Rei!”  Rei turns toward him, wearing the same smile as before. “And you’re Lysander. I’ll get you something for the queasiness. Portals get to everyone the first time, especially if you’re not fully prepared.” He shoots Minchan a weighty look at his last few words. Minchan retaliates by sticking out his tongue. Rei ignores him. “Come, I’ll show you inside.”  “Inside”, as it turns out, is a little hut hidden behind layers of what Minchan calls “glamour”. After a simple wave of Rei’s hand, it appears out of thin air, flimmering at the edges like Minchan’s circle had done. It sits in the middle of a fenced in, lush garden, a plethora of brightly colored flowers and plants. Some, Lysander recognizes, but others he’s never seen in his life. A walkway of grey stones leads to the entrance door, heavy looking and wooden.  The door swings open on its own, or so it appears. Rei bends down to pick something up, cupping it ever so gently in his palms.  It’s a tiny, albino hedgehog.  “Thank you, Lilac.” Rei presses a kiss to the hedgehog’s forehead. The hedgehog makes a noise that sounds suspiciously flustered. “This is my familiar,” Rei follows it up with, showing Lilac to Lysander. “Say hello. Try to be friends. I’d hate for you two to not get along.”  Lysander wrings his hands, staring at Lilac. Lilac doesn’t move, either, staring right back.  “Um. H-hello. It’s nice to meet you.”  Lilac raises his little snout into the air, and Rei frowns down at him.  “What did I just say? Play nice.”  Still, Lilac doesn’t look very impressed. He turns around in Rei’s palms before he vanishes in a shimmery flash of light. Rei shakes his head.  “Don’t mind him. He needs a bit to warm up to someone.”  Minchan mutters something about it being Rei’s own fault for never socializing. He goes ignored again.  The inside of Rei’s hut is surprisingly normal. All his furniture is wooden or partly wooden, from the round table in the kitchen to the sofa lined with the plushest cushions and pillows to the TV stand. Herbs and flowers hang from every wall, both dried and fresh. The most outlandish item is the big cauldron in the middle of the kitchen, a fire lit underneath it. Whatever’s inside it bubbles gently, filling the air with a sweet, herby scent.  Of all the cliched witch-things Lysander expected to see, this is the most accurate to his imaginations.  Upon closer inspection, however, he finds that the TV and the kitchen itself are both highly modern. Rei even owns a gaming console. How and where is he getting his electricity from? Something tells him the answer will either be magic, or so mundane that he would have never considered it. A question for another day.  Rei gathers them together in the middle of the living room and has them sit on the floor after pushing the coffee table aside. He hands Lysander a small pill and a glass of water instead of the potion he’d expected, and Lysander gulps both down. Apparently, even witches have a need for regular medicine. Perhaps solving everything with magic is against the rules. If there are any rules.  He has so much to learn.  “Did you bring the salves?” Rei asks, seated cross-legged next to Lysander.  A few days earlier, Rei instructed him to prepare a couple of standard salves to put on wounds, ones that his job as a nurse has long familiarized him with. He’d told him to make them with the intent to heal, to concentrate on and visualize the process of a wound closing. So Lysander had done exactly that. And though he’d found himself tempted to test them, himself, he thought it more prudent to wait until both Minchan and Rei could ascertain their capabilities. If they had any special ones, anyhow.  Lysander gives a quick nod, taking the two small, rotund plastic containers out of his sling bag. They used to be filled with store-bought skin care, serving this purpose just fine. Rei takes them with a grateful nod. One he hands Minchan, the other he keeps, unscrewing the lid. He tilts it gently in his palm so the light catches in the creaminess of the salve, making it glisten. He brings it up to his face to smell it, humming as he does. Whether or not it’s a satisfied noise, Lysander can’t tell.  “They smell nice,” Minchan comments, tilting his container every which way like Rei had done. “Why’d you make him make these?”  Rei smiles, that same, small smile, but there’s an edge to it. Smug. “Because I asked him what he’s interested in. Have you done the same?”  Minchan sputters. “I -- you know, it’s not like we can just jump into what he likes. He needs basics. That’s what I’m concerned about.”  This playful back and forth is just as endearing as Minchan’s whirlwind persona. Lysander can’t stop himself from giggling, which earns him a wider smile from Rei and a noise from Minchan like he’s terribly martyred. But he’s smiling, too, unable to hide it even behind that huffy facade.  “Well,” Rei says after a moment of comfortable silence, “I suppose we’ll need to test these.”  He gets up and walks over to the kitchen to rummage in a drawer. What he pulls out glints silvery in his palm, and only when he sits back down, it becomes clear what it is. A knife. Vines snake around its handle, deep green in color. The blade itself is simple and two-edged, a small symbol etched into the very tip of it.  Rei reaches out, takes one of Minchan’s hands and quickly drags the knife from one side of his palm to the other. Minchan yelps.  “What the fuck?! Have you lost your --”  Minchan struggles, but Rei tightens his grasp on his hand, keeping him in place. Blood wells up from the cut, beading along the surface.  “As I said, we need to test his salves,” Rei says, his voice unaffected. He turns his attention towards Lysander, who has since frozen in his spot. His heart hammers in his chest, a new wave of sickness sloshing in his stomach. As used as he is to seeing blood, a warning would have been nice.  Minchan struggles again, but it’s still in vain. He goes slack a moment after, averting his eyes. “I’m going to be sick.”  Rei hums vaguely, still looking at Lysander. “Which one of them would you use for a cut like this?”  “Um.” Lysander slowly inches forward to take a closer look at the cut. It’s not deep, something that would heal just fine on its own once its dressed. He picks up one of his salves, offering it to Rei. “This one.”  “Well, go on then. Put it on.”  Lysander blinks at him. None of this is what he’d expected of this get-together, but he doesn’t have the luxury to complain. Hesitating, he asks Rei for something to clean the blood up with, and Rei disappears again only to return with a damp washcloth. Lysander wipes the cut down, careful not to hurt Minchan too much, before he dips a finger into the salve, coating the pad of it with the thinnest layer.  “This… might sting a little,” he warns as he gently rubs the salve along the cut.  Even before he manages to reach the end of it, the cut begins to close.  He and Minchan both gape at it, at the way the skin knits together on its own right in front of their eyes. Lysander finishes his job to watch the rest of it close, too, leaving Minchan’s palm pristine as if nothing ever happened. No scab, no scar. Nothing.  “Holy shit,” Minchan whispers in awe, inspecting his hand up close. Next to him, Rei chuckles.  “I knew it would work the moment you handed it to me. You must have felt that, too, Minchan.”  Minchan, rubbing his thumb along the spot where the cut used to be, nods dumbly. “I… felt something, sure. But I’m not good at healing magic. I couldn’t tell it was going to be like this.”  Rei wipes his knife down with the damp washcloth. It’s all a little much to take in -- Rei being so casual, Minchan so shocked, this place and Lysander’s salve actually working. His head spins with this slew of information. Judging by the softness of Rei’s face, he’s noticed. He puts a hand on Lysander’s shoulder, squeezing gently.  “You have a talent. Very potent magic. You’ll make a great healer one day, baby witch.”  For the umpteenth time, Lysander’s heart skips a beat.

[everdreamts-blog]

  “Have you used a portal before?”   Minchan asks the question like he doesn’t care much about the answer. The click of his heels on the pavement is distracting, a staccato in bright pink. He’s a lot to handle in the group chat, but even more of a handful in real life. Glittery eyeshadow and perfectly manicured nails, he’s a living doll, making mock kissy faces at every person walking by who dares to stare. A force of nature if Lysander ever saw one.   “Hello? Are you listening?”

  Minchan snapping his fingers in his face brings Lysander back to reality. “Um, what? Sorry, I wasn’t… “   With a huff and a quick wave of his hand, Minchan dismisses his reply. “It doesn’t matter, does it. I’m not walking all the way to Rei’s stupid forest. I’m not going to let my baby witch do it, either.”   As always when Minchan uses this nickname of his, Lysander’s heart skips a beat. It’s one thing to read it, yet another entirely to hear it. And maybe it’s imagination, but something fond colors it, something soft. Lysander fights a smile, biting his lower lip hard. It’s somehow endearing, that particular brand of a handful Minchan is.   He drags him into some alley, its dead end around a brickwalled corner. From his jacket’s pocket he pulls a piece of white chalk, and promptly begins to draw a circle lined and filled with odd symbols on the wall closest to him. Lysander watches in awe and confusion both.   “Oh,” Minchan says, shooting him a grin over his shoulder. “It’s for the portal. You see, for some magic, we need preparation. Magic circles, sometimes little sacrifices, that sort of thing. It’s too advanced for you right now.”   Instead of dampening his mood, this revelation makes Lysander’s stomach flip in joy. “I’ll… learn this, too?”   “Of course!” Minchan finishes his work off and takes a step back, pocketing the chalk again. “You’ll learn this, and how to make potions… I might just teach you some conjuring, too. Just don’t go trying to summon some demon, yes? That never goes well.”   Once again, Lysander only half listens, too entranced by the casualness of Minchan going about his business. He squares his shoulders and places an outstretched hand into the very center of the circle. As soon as his fingers touch the chalk, it springs to life, glowing a gentle white. Minchan pulls his hand back slowly. The circle lifts off the wall, sticking to his skin like a spiderweb. It hangs in the air, still connected to Minchan’s hand. Lysander’s jaw falls open.   Of course, Minchan notices. “Neat, isn’t it? Wait until you see Qiaomeng doing it. He doesn’t even need a surface, just draws the thing in the air right away. Talented bastard.”   He falls silent, eyes closed. The glow of the circle brightens. Around it, the air flimmers like it does in the hot summer sun. Lysander inhales, catching the slightest whiff of ozone.   Minchan balls his hand into a loose fist, only his forefinger sticking out. He drags the pad of it down the length of the circle, and, little by little, it breaks open in the wake of his touch. When Minchan reaches the end, the chalk peels back in its entirety, revealing a swirl of muted purples and greens dispersed in a sea of endless black. It takes over the circle, stretching to about Minchan’s height. It stops as soon as it touches the ground.   Lysander’s heart flutters in his chest. His arms break out in goose-flesh. “Wow,” is all he manages to press out.   Minchan hums. “This is a portal. It’s like… a door, except it leads into someone’s home if that someone allows it. Rei isn’t a fan of it, but he lets us use one, anyhow.”   “Why doesn’t he like it?”   “A talented witch could trace this magic back to him. I’ll have Parfait erase as much of it after we’re done as she can, but there’ll always be some leftover in places spells were used. Rei’s mostly worried someone might have the idea to murder him in his sleep, really.” Lowering his voice, Minchan adds, “He’s got a bit of a reputation. The plants he grows are highly sought after, some impossible to get around these parts unless you want to pay a hefty sum. He has all reason to be cautious.”   Lysander makes a little noise of understanding. All he knows about Rei is that he lives in a forest – magical and weird, as Qiaomeng had put it – and that he’s powerful, too. He should have asked more questions.   “Anyway.” Minchan grasps him gently by the shoulders and steers him towards the portal. “It’s best if you close your eyes and keep your limbs pressed to your body until you’re back on solid ground. Got it? I’ll be right behind you.”   Before Lysander gets another word in, Minchan pushes him.   Everything around him goes dark.   His stomach swoops again, but not at all in joy this time. He finds himself hovering in nothingness before he’s swept away. Like a tornado toying with a skinny branch, he’s scooped up and tossed about, a deafening roar in his ears. Static sticks to his skin, crawling across it in a numbing tingle. Lysander opens his mouth to scream, but no sound makes it out.   A flash of green breaks through the dark. Lysander slams face first into a tree, its leaves shivering with the impact.   “Oh. Oh, no,” a voice close to him says. Someone places a hand on his shoulder in cadence to a wave of nausea flooding through him. Lysander retches, hunching over. The hand moves to pat his back, all gentle. “There, there. Travelling with portals is never fun, I’m afraid. He should have told you.”   He chances a look to his right, to where the voice is coming from, and is met with bare feet on mossy forest floor. Pressing the back of his hand to his mouth, he straightens slowly.   Miles and miles of forest stretch out around him, trees and bushes and a little creek gently running its course. Birdsong fills the space, lined with the rustle of leaves overhead.   Rei lives in a forest. This forest.   “Is everything alright again?” the voice asks, and the hand disappears.   Lysander nods absently. “Sorry, I… oh.”   A young man steps into his view – the one those bare feet belong to – and gives him an encouraging, but small smile. He’s taller than Lysander is, his hair a strangely warm shade of black. Something about him is… off. His skin is too perfect, his movements just shy of oily. There’s a startling darkness to his eyes. Not human, his instincts scream at him, though he passes as one well enough.   The portal buzzes. Minchan emerges with grace, touching his feet to the ground as though he were a cat leaping off the sofa. He beams at the both of them, the definition of cheeky.   “I see you’ve already met our hermit.”   The not-quite-human huffs, crossing his arms. A few heads of flowers peek through his hair, all varying shades of red. “Why did you let him go through it like this? It’s dangerous.”   “Oh, relax. Don’t talk to me about dangerous. You grow flesh-eating plants.”   “ – that never harm anyone unless I tell them to –”   “Right. That makes it better.”   The puzzle pieces click belatedly. “Oh!” Lysander says, clutching at his chest. “You’re Rei!” Rei turns toward him, wearing the same smile as before. “And you’re Lysander. I’ll get you something for the queasiness. Portals get to everyone the first time, especially if you’re not fully prepared.” He shoots Minchan a weighty look at his last few words. Minchan retaliates by sticking out his tongue. Rei ignores him. “Come, I’ll show you inside.”   “Inside”, as it turns out, is a little hut hidden behind layers of what Minchan calls “glamour”. After a simple wave of Rei’s hand, it appears out of thin air, flimmering at the edges like Minchan’s circle had done. It sits in the middle of a fenced in, lush garden, a plethora of brightly colored flowers and plants. Some, Lysander recognizes, but others he’s never seen in his life. A walkway of grey stones leads to the entrance door, heavy looking and wooden.   The door swings open on its own, or so it appears. Rei bends down to pick something up, cupping it ever so gently in his palms.   It’s a tiny, albino hedgehog.   “Thank you, Lilac.” Rei presses a kiss to the hedgehog’s forehead. The hedgehog makes a noise that sounds suspiciously flustered. “This is my familiar,” Rei follows it up with, showing Lilac to Lysander. “Say hello. Try to be friends. I’d hate for you two to not get along.”   Lysander wrings his hands, staring at Lilac. Lilac doesn’t move, either, staring right back.   “Um. H-hello. It’s nice to meet you.”   Lilac raises his little snout into the air, and Rei frowns down at him.   “What did I just say? Play nice.”   Still, Lilac doesn’t look very impressed. He turns around in Rei’s palms before he vanishes in a shimmery flash of light. Rei shakes his head.   “Don’t mind him. He needs a bit to warm up to someone.”   Minchan mutters something about it being Rei’s own fault for never socializing. He goes ignored again.   The inside of Rei’s hut is surprisingly normal. All his furniture is wooden or partly wooden, from the round table in the kitchen to the sofa lined with the plushest cushions and pillows to the TV stand. Herbs and flowers hang from every wall, both dried and fresh. The most outlandish item is the big cauldron in the middle of the kitchen, a fire lit underneath it. Whatever’s inside it bubbles gently, filling the air with a sweet, herby scent.   Of all the cliched witch-things Lysander expected to see, this is the most accurate to his imaginations.   Upon closer inspection, however, he finds that the TV and the kitchen itself are both highly modern. Rei even owns a gaming console. How and where is he getting his electricity from? Something tells him the answer will either be magic, or so mundane that he would have never considered it. A question for another day.   Rei gathers them together in the middle of the living room and has them sit on the floor after pushing the coffee table aside. He hands Lysander a small pill and a glass of water instead of the potion he’d expected, and Lysander gulps both down. Apparently, even witches have a need for regular medicine. Perhaps solving everything with magic is against the rules. If there are any rules.   He has so much to learn.   “Did you bring the salves?” Rei asks, seated cross-legged next to Lysander.   A few days earlier, Rei instructed him to prepare a couple of standard salves to put on wounds, ones that his job as a nurse has long familiarized him with. He’d told him to make them with the intent to heal, to concentrate on and visualize the process of a wound closing. So Lysander had done exactly that. And though he’d found himself tempted to test them, himself, he thought it more prudent to wait until both Minchan and Rei could ascertain their capabilities. If they had any special ones, anyhow.   Lysander gives a quick nod, taking the two small, rotund plastic containers out of his sling bag. They used to be filled with store-bought skin care, serving this purpose just fine. Rei takes them with a grateful nod. One he hands Minchan, the other he keeps, unscrewing the lid. He tilts it gently in his palm so the light catches in the creaminess of the salve, making it glisten. He brings it up to his face to smell it, humming as he does. Whether or not it’s a satisfied noise, Lysander can’t tell.   “They smell nice,” Minchan comments, tilting his container every which way like Rei had done. “Why’d you make him make these?”   Rei smiles, that same, small smile, but there’s an edge to it. Smug. “Because I asked him what he’s interested in. Have you done the same?”   Minchan sputters. “I – you know, it’s not like we can just jump into what he likes. He needs basics. That’s what I’m concerned about.”   This playful back and forth is just as endearing as Minchan’s whirlwind persona. Lysander can’t stop himself from giggling, which earns him a wider smile from Rei and a noise from Minchan like he’s terribly martyred. But he’s smiling, too, unable to hide it even behind that huffy facade.   “Well,” Rei says after a moment of comfortable silence, “I suppose we’ll need to test these.”   He gets up and walks over to the kitchen to rummage in a drawer. What he pulls out glints silvery in his palm, and only when he sits back down, it becomes clear what it is. A knife. Vines snake around its handle, deep green in color. The blade itself is simple and two-edged, a small symbol etched into the very tip of it.   Rei reaches out, takes one of Minchan’s hands and quickly drags the knife from one side of his palm to the other. Minchan yelps.   “What the fuck?! Have you lost your –”   Minchan struggles, but Rei tightens his grasp on his hand, keeping him in place. Blood wells up from the cut, beading along the surface.   “As I said, we need to test his salves,” Rei says, his voice unaffected. He turns his attention towards Lysander, who has since frozen in his spot. His heart hammers in his chest, a new wave of sickness sloshing in his stomach. As used as he is to seeing blood, a warning would have been nice.   Minchan struggles again, but it’s still in vain. He goes slack a moment after, averting his eyes. “I’m going to be sick.”   Rei hums vaguely, still looking at Lysander. “Which one of them would you use for a cut like this?”   “Um.” Lysander slowly inches forward to take a closer look at the cut. It’s not deep, something that would heal just fine on its own once its dressed. He picks up one of his salves, offering it to Rei. “This one.”   “Well, go on then. Put it on.”   Lysander blinks at him. None of this is what he’d expected of this get-together, but he doesn’t have the luxury to complain. Hesitating, he asks Rei for something to clean the blood up with, and Rei disappears again only to return with a damp washcloth. Lysander wipes the cut down, careful not to hurt Minchan too much, before he dips a finger into the salve, coating the pad of it with the thinnest layer.   “This… might sting a little,” he warns as he gently rubs the salve along the cut.   Even before he manages to reach the end of it, the cut begins to close.   He and Minchan both gape at it, at the way the skin knits together on its own right in front of their eyes. Lysander finishes his job to watch the rest of it close, too, leaving Minchan’s palm pristine as if nothing ever happened. No scab, no scar. Nothing.   “Holy shit,” Minchan whispers in awe, inspecting his hand up close. Next to him, Rei chuckles.   “I knew it would work the moment you handed it to me. You must have felt that, too, Minchan.”   Minchan, rubbing his thumb along the spot where the cut used to be, nods dumbly. “I… felt something, sure. But I’m not good at healing magic. I couldn’t tell it was going to be like this.”   Rei wipes his knife down with the damp washcloth. It’s all a little much to take in – Rei being so casual, Minchan so shocked, this place and Lysander’s salve actually working. His head spins with this slew of information. Judging by the softness of Rei’s face, he’s noticed. He puts a hand on Lysander’s shoulder, squeezing gently.   “You have a talent. Very potent magic. You’ll make a great healer one day, baby witch.”   For the umpteenth time, Lysander’s heart skips a beat.

[kdfrqqg]

Put a ring on it!

Sam x Plus Size Reader Word Count: 1,626 Summary: Sam and Reader have to pretend to be a married couple to steal an object. Warnings: Implied sex, mostly fluff, negative body image talk, mild cursing

“And you look like a douche, you’ll fit right in.” You heard Dean say as he slapped Sam’s back in the other room. You chuckled to yourself, “He can’t look that bad.” You yelled from the bathroom while you fixed your makeup. “Oh no, he’s right, (Y/N/N), I look like a douche.” Sam replied. You quickly walked out of the bathroom, in a short 50’s style floral halter sundress and a pair of wedge sandals, to witness Sam’s attire and immediately you heard a cat call whistle. “Yowza! Sweetheart you look great!” Dean hooted. “Doesn’t she look good, Sammy?” Sam cleared his throat, “uh yeah… she looks real nice.” “Tell me again, why do you get to play her husband on this case? “Dean asked in a jealous tone. “Because…we are closer in age, so that’s more believable.” Sam responded. “Also Sam can act like a much better douche than you can, Deano.” You added mocking Sam. “Hey, hey, that is no way to talk to your husband.” Sam sassed back.

It was an outdoor auction at this snooty country club, Sam and I had to steal an occult spell book on display for Rowena. On the way to the event, you asked Sam, “so I know, I have only been hunting with you guys for a bit, but does your brother ‘like me, like me’ or is he just being nice, ‘cause I can never get a read on him.” “Dean, like you?” Sam asked the air, “(Y/N), there is a huge difference between Dean liking you and Dean wanting to screw your brains out. He is practically a connoisseur of women. Why do you ask? Do you like him?” “Not really but, if I thought he did, I might show him a good time. Let’s be honest, you Winchesters are my type,” “Your type?” “Yeah, my type, strong, smart hunters but I don’t really think I would be his.” gesturing to your body. “Are you just fishing for a complement now? ‘Cause you know you’re beautiful. Dean wasn’t joking, you really do look good.” His words were a nice assurance but a ton of self hating talk ran through your mind, “It’s just that, I will probably be the fattest girl there, I bet all these women have personal trainers and are skin ‘n bones.” “Nobody is going to look at how big you are. That dress hits all your curves, just right.” he encouraged. “Ok thanks! I am a little out of my element here.“ pressing the side of your forehead on the window, “I think that’s why I am freakin’ out a bit.” “You’ll do fine. Now tell me, what’s your name?” Sam asked. You sat up and in a very natural pleasant tone you recited your lie, “I am (Y/N) Young, this-this is my husband Sam.“ You smiled, “Oh how did we meet, well Sam and I have been together since college.”

You pulled up to the event, “Do you think I’ll fit in?” Sam asked. You looked over his outfit, a dark blue polo; khaki shorts and pair of boat shoes with no socks and then you looked out the window and saw three men wearing almost the exact same outfit. You pointed to the gentlemen, “Yeah, I think you will fit right in.” You giggled. “Ok then.” Suddenly, he gently grabbed your wrist stopping you from leaving the Impala, “Oh! I almost forgot, will you (Y/N) (Y/L/N) marry me?” He said with a kissy face pulling two gold bands from his pocket. It was probably the first and only time you would ever hear these words and it was a joke, your heart broke for a second but you recovered fast. “Why yes, Sammy Winchester, I would love to marry you.” You replied in a southern accent quickly giving him a peck on the lips. You walked in on Sam’s arm, showed your stolen invitation, and you didn’t even look out of place, so far everything was going well. Both of you grabbed a champagne flute and started to case the place by the bar. “I think we need to get back there.” Sam suggested pointing to a back room. You causally moved towards the door, “how do you suggest we get in there? This place is crawling with people.” “Well we are married!” you said raising your eye brow. You reached up and kissed Sam hard and passionately enough to make people uncomfortable and not want to watch. He was a little surprised at first but then he caught on. He walked you backwards down the hallway while you lean up to kiss him tenderly and smiling along the way, keeping eye contact like a couple in love. There was a large group of staff near the door you needed to get in, you pushed Sam down in an arm chair that was positioned in the hallway. You giggled as he grabbed your waist pulling you onto his lap. Your legs flung over the chair’s arm as your hands worked their way into Sam’s long sun kissed brown hair. You began to grind your plump large ass in to his crotch. “Oh baby, we should probably find some where a little more private.” You cooed trying to keep up the facade. You continued to giggle as his massive hands ran up your leg and he kissed into your neck, until the wait staff finally cleared the area. You were smiling so much at Sam that your cheeks had begun to hurt; you almost forgot why you were there in the first place. “You ok?” You asked Sam moving from his lap, he nodded adjusting his underwear. You knew both of you had enjoyed that a little bit too much, “we should move!” You said sternly. You both swiftly snuck into the unlocked room, “I got this side, you get that one.” Sam suggested. You made quick work of locating the book and slipping it into your purse. You heard voices outside the room, “Sam!” You whispered pointing towards the door. You sat up on a table, untying the top half of your dress down to your waist. You pulled Sam into you by his belt, as you wrapped your legs around him, just in time for a few staff members to find you. One of them coughed, you faked being startled. “Oh dear,” covering your bra with your arms, “oh we are so, so sorry. We didn’t think anyone would find us in here.” “You can’t be in here.” One of the men informed both of you. “Yeah, we understand.” Sam apologized. He helped you with your dress and walked you out of the room. You continued to laugh as the staff watched the both of you walked towards the car. “I can’t believe that worked.” You sighed. “Thanks for just going with it.” “I have to admit that wasn’t awful.” Sam smirked at you. You both chuckled and drove off. The ride back to the motel was in almost total silence, it was awkward, you weren’t sure how to feel or what to say. Yeah, you were acting but it didn’t change the fact that now you were extremely turned on. “So how’d it go?” Dean asked. “We got it!” You replied. “Now I am ready for a shower.” You said smiling at Sam. You ran off to the bathroom to take a cold shower to calm down.

“What happened? How’d you get it?” Dean asked Sam handing him a beer. “Well… We pretended to make out and crept in and stole it.” Sam explained. “Wait. You got to make out with (Y/N)? Damn, I’m so gonna be her boyfriend next time.” Dean searched Sam’s face for his reaction, “Unless you want to make her your real girlfriend?” “My girlfriend? She isn’t really my type.” “Isn’t your type?” Dean questioned back. “Dude, she is a beautiful, smart, voluptuous,” he made hand gestures out from his chest referencing (Y/N)’s large breasts, “hunter.“ Sam chuckled at Dean, “Do you hear me? She is everybody’s type. You can’t tell me that she didn’t look good on your arm.” “Well yeah, she did look good.” “Exactly, I know you don’t really go for the plus size women but let me tell you, they feel so good.” Dean continued, “Think about it Sammy, just think about it.” as he clinked his beer to Sam’s beer.

Later that night, “Y'all wanna go get a drink?” Dean asked. “No, you should’ve asked an hour ago, I wouldn’t have put my PJs on. Besides I wouldn’t be any fun, one drink and I’d fall asleep on you.” You told him. “Agreed, I think I’m going to go to bed early too.” Sam informed the room. “You two are lame. Ok don’t wait up.” Dean said leaving the hotel room. You slid into bed ready for rest and to put this day behind you. You tried not to think about Sam’s firm body under yours. This was going to difficult, Sam joined you soon on the empty side of the bed not touching you but you could feel his warmth. This was the sleeping arrangement for the week and you didn’t think anything of it, you rolled over on your side turning away from Sam to avoid any temptation. “So I was thinking about earlier.” Sam hesitantly said, you hummed. “I really enjoyed that.” “Yeah, me too.” You agreed turning back to him flashing him a smile. “What do you say we try this out for real?” Sam asked. You sat up and bit your bottom lip, “I think that’s the best idea I’ve heard all day.” You straddled your thick thighs over Sam’s hips and bending down to press a slow deep kiss on his lips. Part two

@greenappleeyes @bandobsession98 @jensen-jarpad

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[believe-that-you-can-my-friend]

Under (the) Cover

(Okay, I have a ton of one-sentence prompts to fill, a gazillion prompt requests and two of these prompts lurking half-finished in my documents folder but YET the Bughead pic for tomorrow’s episode got releashed and Betty’s wandering hand got my mind in dark imaginative places. I thought I was the only thirsty one but I guess there are a lot of us out there so you asked and I happily deliver. This is SIN, this is something I don’t know where it came from. Nevertheless, I hope you all enjoy! )

“Well, never thought I would be stood up by Jughead Jones but I guess there’s a first time for everything.” Veronica mused around the stripped straw of her milkshake, lopsided smirk intact and chocolate eyes shining in teasing, feeling Archie’s chest vibrate from light laughter besides her, the back of her arm brushing casually his pec.

Betty rolled her pretty eyes from across them, the happy grin that she was sporting all day turning even more delighted. “He’s on his way.” She let them now, abandoning her phone in the space next to her on the leather seat, its screen still illuminated by the private chat with Juggie <3 on top, the kissy emojis she had sent him last depicting her playful and bubbly mood. “They had a lot to talk with his dad now that everything’s over.” She sighed in content, still trying to settle down after the emotional roller-coaster of the previous days, the two other teens on the table nodding in understanding before all three of them engaged themselves in an easy-going chat about tonight’s successful jubilee.

As per queue, the characteristic chime that indicated the arrival of new customers echoed in the small diner and Betty whiped her head around, golden locks dancing graciously around her beautiful face, only for her perpetual grin to turn into a full, dashing smile, along with rosy cheeks and all, at the sight of her boyfriend, smiling charmingly back at her and making his way to their now personal booth in his typical lazy strides.

“The prodigal friend returns.” Archie exclaimed around a chuckle, relishing in the feeling that all was good once again with his best friend. Jughead offered him something between a snort and a scoff, baby blues rolling at his awful attempt for a pun, while climbing over the booth to land next to Betty with a squeaky plop and an arm over her shoulders.

His girlfriend’s fingers immediately laced with his against her collarbone, personal space never an option for either of them. “Wow… Biblical references and fancy words… You know, I used to be friends with that jock that spelled “different” with one f up until tenth grade, Archie Andrews, do you happen to know him?” Jughead offered in full sarcasm and a smirk that screamed mischief, leaning closer to the table and bringing along a glued to his side Betty who snorted a giggle at his theatricals in coordination with Veronica’s scoff of appreciation at the snarky comment.

Archie just narrowed his eyes in fake threatening, goofy smirk still plastered on his lips, before a polite employee interrupted them to take Jughead’s order which weirdly consisted of only a strawberry milkshake.

“Hey you…” he whispered sweetly to the girl in his arms, settling back more comfortably on his seat and giving her the boyish smile she always loved.

“Hey you back, stranger.” She giggled with a scrunched nose, making him lean in and brush against it with the tip of his own, unable to resist her adorable side and the happy feeling in his heart that he could wrap her once again in his embrace. Betty smiled at his sweet gesture, eyelids fluttering and shooting a shy glance towards his lips, tracing his cute little dimple next to them with the pads of her fingers in simple affection. “How did it go with your dad?” her eyebrows knitted for a second in concern.

“Great.” he nodded once, biting the inside of his cheek not to let the biggest smile in the history of smiles form on his lips. “It’s real this time, Betts. My dad cares about me, loves me.” He huffed in relief, whispering the last part like the most sacred statement in the world, like he was still in disbelief that his father’s love was unconditional.

“Of course he does.” Betty spoke in a heartbeat, determination evident in her tone and the green shade of her pretty eyes. “Only a tad more than I do.” She smirked cheekily, feeling her cheeks get warmer to match his own blushing ones, her declaration of love another thing Jughead still felt incredulous about. She had said it to him the next day after Clifford Blossom’s reveal to be the killer, when he was pacing up and down at the Blue & Gold, angrily ranting to her about how much of a dick Keller was and how unfair the rehabilitation system of America was proving to be, her finally calming him with the promise that they would get his father out before she uttered those three little words that changed the course of his whole universe forever.

He smirked back at her, pushing some curls behind her ear and getting lost in the sea of green in her eyes as he mouthed a silent ‘I love you’, away from the prying eyes of their friends and the world, before settling back on his seat and brining his leg to rest between them, Betty’s arm curling around his thigh and resting casually on his lap.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there to watch you deliver the opening speech at the jubilee. I know it means a lot that mayor McCoy chose you.” He sighed in regret really wishing he had been able to see her shine.

“It’s fine.” Betty shushed him immediately with a shake of her head; being there for his father was way more important than a stupid speech in her books. “You’re here now and that’s all that matters.” She assured him with a lovesick smile and he awarded her with an identical one back, feeling her small hand patting the inside of his thigh in affection.

“So, Arthur Conan Doyle” Veronica interrupted any interaction between the couple who turned to face her at the mention of her new found nickname for Jughead “now that the case is closed, what are your plans about Riverdale’s very own Death On The Nile?”

Jughead laughed lightly, the fingers of his free hand drumming over the table in excitement. He started talking about his novel then, how he intended for it to end, all the aspects he wanted to show, how he was now considering the idea of starting a series of books this time, murder mysteries again, but set on the mysterious background of their town’s Southside. Betty was left there watching him, watching his eyes shine with excitement, his lips eloquently expressing his views and opinions, his Adam’s apple bop with every gulp and every breath he took, that single raven wave in its best behavior against his forehead, peaking from the inside of his slightly misplaced beanie. He looked so damn handsome in that moment, even more so than usual, and Betty caught herself licking her lips slowly while admiring her boyfriend.

The waiter came with Jughead’s milkshake and slid it over the table, the boy catching it with ease and offering a polite thank you, before snatching the cherry from the top and popping it in his mouth, Betty’s eyes flickering a little disorientated at the action that caused a tingling feeling low in her stomach.

“Stop staring. It’s creepy.” Jughead’s voice came out of nowhere in a hushed whisper next to her ear, words rolling over the mushed now cheery and lips forming a cheeky little teasing smile, while he kept his eyes trained on the chatting duo across them, faking attendance in their conversation.

“Wha- I… I didn’t.” Betty stumbled around her words, feeling her cheeks now turning redder than the booth they were sitting on.

“I know they say male species lack any peripheral vision but I can assure you that I saw the way you were looking at me.” He replied cockily and with a pleased smirk that reached his challenging eyes, the girl next to him internally cursing herself for getting caught and wanting with every fiber in her body to wipe that annoying smirk off his stupidly handsome face.

Jughead dropped back against his seat and winked at her, Betty narrowing her eyes at him and scoffing in fake offence, before settling back on her own seat with a pout. She could see him return his attention back to the people at the other side of the table, Archie’s voice being just a background noise at this point, and then she felt her boyfriend nudge closer to her side, his body heat radiating through the delicious grey sweater and black jacket he had chosen to wear, as well as his male scent mingled with his choice of soap doing all kinds of stuff to her overly sensitive hormones. The thought of him coming out of the shower in a cloud of steam with just a towel low on his hips and hair dripping down his already soaked board shoulders suddenly invaded Betty’s mind and she bit her lip, involuntarily shifting on her leather seat and crossing her legs, feeling the heat of her cheeks now spread all over her body.

Her fingers started drawing abstract shapes over the hard material of his dark jeans against his calf on their own accord, Jughead resting his head back on the red leather and casting a small smile down at her at what he thought was an action of affection. Betty returned the smile, a little foxier since she knew his easy-going behavior would not last for long, and she started altering her ministrations from innocent drumming against the same spot on his calf to feathery caresses of her fingers from the inside of his ankle up to the inside of his knee and back down.

“The song was a hit, Juggie! Everyone was having such a great time and the fact that Josie decided to sing with me means the world to me right now.” Archie’s voice reached Betty’s ears as she made herself focus on the ongoing chatting around the table, almost bouncing on her seat in excitement at what was about to come, or, more correctly, who.

“Well, thank you, Veronica, I’ll forever be grateful to you and I swear to dedicate my life to your complete and utter mercy.” The brunette girl next to him recited dramatically like another Bronte heroine and all of them laughed, Betty taking Jughead’s relaxed posture as a sign to continue with her naughty little plan. Feeling bold, she let her hand roam over his knee and then drop down to land on the inside of his thigh in a swift, sudden movement. To any onlooker, that would look like a random sign of affection or just her changing the position of her numbing hand. But it wasn’t. And something told her that Jughead was starting to notice it too by the way he jumped lightly at the weight of her small hand on that particular spot on his body.

“The duet was amazing. I can totally see it making it on YouTube and killing it.” Betty contributed to the conversation, letting her hand be still for a moment, solemnly because he could feel Jughead looking at her and raising an eyebrow, clearly not sure what to believe of her actions. “Happy songs suit you, Arch.” She continued their private ongoing joke about Archie’s depressed muse and the redhead rolled his eyes in exasperation, gaining a supportive pat on the chest by Veronica. “Isn’t that right, Juggie?” Abruptly, Betty turned to him, as well as the other two pairs of eyes, and Jughead would be fine with the attention if it wasn’t for the blonde’s hand that delivered a rather firm squeeze against the inside of his thigh.

“Yeah, um, yeah, sure…” He replied with difficulty, clearing his throat and dropping his eyes to his lap to avoid her piercing stare, only to come across that petite hand of hers dangerously close to the place he didn’t quite know it functioned before her and their heated make out sessions in her room. He cleared his throat again, louder, as if in warning, and shook his head to push away the images of her under him mewling and gasping as his lips worked wonders on her neck, strongly believing that right now was not the ideal time for him to sport a boner.

“Who would have thought four months ago that we would experience such odd situations? I mean, it’s Riverdale, everything was pretty much standard.” Archie wondered out loud, surprised how everything had completely changed for them and their small town. A conversation that Jughead would gladly want to elaborate in if it wasn’t for that damn hand against his thigh that was starting to make him sweat all the way through his woolen sweater and fleece jacket.

“Hasn’t it all changed for the better though?” Veronica nodded in thought. “I mean not the murder part but, you know, us? I would still be a stuck up suburban bitch, you would still be pining over a pointless football career and those two would forever be in denial.” The girl waved a manicured finger over the couple across her, smiling lovingly when they both casted lovesick glances at each other.

Betty was not in the mood for romance tonight though. So she squeezed Jughead’s thigh again and then let her nails scratch lightly down its back, only for his eyes to widen in shock and his Adam’s apple to bop violently as he gulped in uneasiness, his expression of pure love turning into one of pure sexual frustration in just a heartbeat, making Betty flash him her most pleased with herself smile.

“Jug, seriously, breathe, we all know you are both practically head over hills with each other at this point.” Veronica giggled in a girly manner, misconstruing his panicky expression as a sign of uneasiness in regards of his feelings for Betty being put at the spotlight.

“Yeah, that, exactly.” Jughead offered in anything but eloquence once again, his mind a mess of teenage urges and his throat dry and threating to betray him and his male condition with a choke or, worse, a pathetic cry out and he straightened up his back, untangling his arm from Betty’s shoulder and dropping his foot on the ground to regain some control. Something that never happened since now her hand was comfortably settled exactly between his thighs and exactly a few torturing inches away from the place that his blood was gathering to in lightning speed.

He hated his body. And he hated the smirking blonde by his side for playing such dirty tricks with his pathetic teenage self.

“At least we still have each other through it all.” Archie mused with his wholesome smile, trying to be sentimental and all, not that Jughead noticed or cared right now because his whole attention was to calm his breathing and freaking stop that irrational member between his legs that always jolted up happily at any mention of sweet and innocent Betty Cooper. Sweet and innocent my ass, the raven haired boy thought in frustration upon glancing at her profile, the blonde angel sending cute smiles at their friends while rubbing deliciously and sensually slow the spot on his thigh.

“Having each other’s back was the only thing that got us going, right Juggie?” Betty turned to face him again, biting the inside of her cheek not to burst out laughing at the look of despair and total plea for mercy her boyfriend sent her way. She ignored it all together, in the mood to make him break and break fast, and brought her hand further up his thigh, her warm palm caressing the denim against his inflamed skin, and he instantly grabbed her wrist, sending her a side glance in warning. Betty just offered him her most innocent look under her eyelashes, wiggling her wrist free from his grip and lowered her hand only a few inches, though enough for the boy to audibly exhale in relief. His jeans were starting to get impossibly tight by the minute, his cheeks felt like he had a deadly fever and he was trying desperately to control his breathing, not wanting to alarm Archie and Veronica with his heavy pants of pumped up sexual tension.

“Seriously, in this Hitchcock crazy town I wouldn’t have done it without you.” The brunette city girl voiced upon seeing Jughead not responding and Betty nodded happily at her friend, before sending another innocent glance to her boyfriend and leaning down to capture the straw of her vanilla milkshake inside her glossy lips, totally wrecking his self-control at that very moment.

Her volumous lips closed lasciviously around the stripped plastic roll.  

Then they let it go with a sexy, smack sound.

Her tongue darted out to lick the excess of vanilla milkshake from the tip of the straw. 

Her tongue disappeared in her sinful mouth with a delicious curl upward.

His own thirsty lips opened in a low male gasp. Holly fucking shit.

“Jug, are you okay?” Archie’s voice echoed at the back of his mind but he couldn’t find the words to reply or the will to snap his eyes away from the bubbly blonde that was toying him like a Kama Sutra guru, now twirling innocently the straw between the fingers of the hand that wasn’t torturing him.

“Yeah, Jug, are you okay?” Betty’s lips dragged the question teasingly and she dig her nails on his thigh to wake him up from his hormonal reverie, the boy blinking rapidly to regain his sanity and remember how to talk, think and generally function like a normal human being. With no blood left on his brain though that was a lost battle to begin with.

“I’m” choke “I’m fine.” He snapped in a high pitched tone of voice that surprised him and the others around the table. “Just feeling a tad hot, isn’t it hot in here?” he worked to drop his voice to its normal level and tried to appear aloof with his usual knitted eyebrows expression but failed miserably, letting a cooing sigh and grabbing the hem of his jacket, swinging it desperately back and forth to offer some much needed air to his minutes before exploding self.

“Drink your milkshake. That will cool you down.” His menace of a girlfriend suggested with the sweetest smile and Jughead offered her a threatening glare that she just brushed off with a cute nudge of her shoulder against his. He was at the verge of screaming, frustrated that she appeared so pure and loving to the world while she was being the literal definition of the devil under the plastic white table, grabbing his cold drink with both hands and practically chugging half of it in one go, physically enjoying the cold sensation it spread on the inside of his burning skin. Betty Cooper, though, was relentless tonight.

He didn’t even have the chance to shallow his mouthful when her hand travelled back up his thigh, lavender nails roaming a little under the seam of his jeans on the inside, and her fingers finally came in contact with the place he needed her the most, for only a brief second, before her wandering hand rested on his flexing adnominal muscles. He choked around his milkshake, hips jerking upwards on reflex and without any shame, turning immediately to Betty and widening his eyes in full horror. She just patted his abdomen in reassurance, laying on his side and resting her head on his shoulder, like any other couple in a normal PG movie, despite the fact that Jughead’s chest was now rising and falling in full force, just by the simple promise her naughty hand had left on the embarrassing bulge at the front of his jeans. She toyed with the hem of his sweater, fingers lightly creeping under it to dance over the small patch of raven hair and a low, male groan vibrated though his chest, making Betty silently giggled while licking her lips, proud and turned on by his body reactions to her and only her.

“Aw, you guys are adorable!” Veronica cooed in a sugary voice that made Jughead roll his eyes. If only she knew, he thought, dropping his arm around Betty’s slender figure and squeezing her bare shoulder, sighing again and thinking that maybe his torture was over. “Let’s take a picture; it’s time we start creating memories.” She clapped her hands in excitement.

He tried to object, he really did. First of all, he wasn’t a fan of his face being in front of the camera and second of all he was mentally and physically exhausted to indulge in some juvenile notion regarding capturing random moments for eternity. But it was three against one and he finally caved, earning a kiss on the cheek, an open-mouthed and dangerously low on his jawline one to be exact, that made him unable to think straight once again. And when Betty thought it would be cute to climb on her boyfriend’s lap for the round of selfies that followed, that’s when Jughead felt the most helpless for the first time in his life.

She was in a mini skirt and he hated it. The skirt was nice, baby blue and flowy, and it was definitely something very Betty Cooper appropriate. But he, even though he found her beautiful in everything, hated that piece of clothing with every fiber in his tortured body. Because it barely reached the middle of her thighs and he was hard. Unbelievably and dangerously hard.  

“Oh dear Lord, kill me now.” Jughead murmured with a groan against the back of her shoulder, eyes snapping shut and chest heaving once she was settled on top of him, her perfect, firm butt directly on top of his now painful erection. The shameful times he had lately thought of Betty late at night when lying in bed or during his morning shower, he would always picture her being all shy and flustered upon seeing or feeling him for the first time. That reaction was something he had never imagined even in his most intimate and wild fantasies.

“I didn’t quite catch that, Juggie.” She offered back in all her good-girl polite manner, pretending as if she didn’t know what she was doing to him. But with her back against his chest, he could clearly feel her heart pounding and matching his own running one. She grounded herself more against his lap, like she was just adjusting herself or getting more comfortable inside her boyfriend’s embrace, but Jughead knew better, he knew that this was provocative enough to tease him even more and sent him spiraling to a place of pleasure he didn’t even know it existed before her.

“Why are you doing this to me?” his lips ghosted next to her ear and his desperate question was accompanied by a gasp, as he felt her ever so subtly deliver a firm circle of her ass against his stiff erection, Jughead turning his face to bury it in her neck in order to hide his small, painted grunt.

“Then maybe I should get back to my seat.” A great amount of selfies had been taken by now, not that Jughead noticed, and the other couple on the booth was too preoccupied by checking them out while giggling at the occasional bad angle or funny grimace. Betty was thankful that their attention was held by Veronica’s phone, feeling her own will slipping any time now and her cheeks flaming red at this point. Not to even mention about the mess his muscular body and thick member had caused inside her periwinkle panties.

“Don’t you dare.” He practically growled, hands going to grip her hips for dear life, the action making her glorious behind slide up his lap, the hem of her skirt getting stuck against his belt, leaving now only the soaking lace rubbing against the hard denim. He bit the inside of his cheek not to groan and she held her lips tightly close to prevent her high-pitch gasp from spilling off them. As if they had a mind of their own her hips wriggled against him and his grip on her hipbones became bruising, Jughead not knowing if he wanted to hold her in place or urge her to move but being one hundred percent sure that both options would offer him an immediate death.

Sensing the desperate state she had put him in and feeling her whole body tremble from the naughtiness of the situation, Betty let her hips continue their small circling movements, sensual but still subtle enough not to raise any attention from around them but wanting to bring him to the final stage of utter pleasure right here, helplessly under her. She rolled her hips against him again, this time clasping the tiny muscles of her center while sliding over the length of him and she felt his teeth attempting to bite the sensitive skin at the back of her neck but ultimately just grazing it in an uncalculated movement due the intensity of it all, his hot breath causing goosebumps to appear on her porcelain skin and run donwn her spine, fueling her own desire between her legs. A rush of wetness drenched her lacey panties and Betty knew he felt it by the way his hips bucked up towards her heat, violently seeking to get lost inside her world of sin.

“Don’t think. Do it.” she turned around to face him, curling an arm over his shoulders as if she was sweetly cuddling with him and changing the angle of her hips to ground heavier on his lap and grind directly up and down his iron hard member, as if there was not a single barrier of clothes between them.

“What?!” Jughead whisper-screamed at the absurd thought of Betty urging him to come undone right at that moment, inside Pop’s while their friends were a few feet away babbling happily about photos and Instagram posts. She just pecked the corner of his lips, messy and wet, and bounced her head back to look him straight in the eyes, challenging him to hold back if he could. Turning her back at the two teens across them and keeping a steady, slow rhythm over his lap, she brought two of her fingers to brush over the whipped cream of his now melting milkshake and then moved them to her lips, the white sweet substance disappearing into the abyss of her mouth. She sucked sensually, without breaking eye contact, letting a sexy mewl at the taste and the pitch black of his dark orbs, seeing the erotic image that was playing at the dephts of his mind and groaning around her fingers at how turned on she was too at this point. And right before his bewildered eyes, the innocent damsel of all his mystery stories, whined filthily and twirled her tongue around her fingers, just like he had shamefully imagined doing around the part that was now pulsing under the soaking lace of her panties, and that’s what ruined him, turning his body into stone and his limps into an unuseful mess of bones, his chapped lips opening in a silent gasp as he came, eyes wide and glued to those luscious lips wrapped deliciously around her slim fingers.

“Hey, earth to Bughead.” Veronica’s voice popped their amorous bubble violently, both of them jumping at the force back to reality, Jughead letting a groan of irritation and hypersensitivity as Betty bounced involuntarily on his still twitching member, the aftershocks of his orgasm running violently down his spine, the boy trying desperately to glue his spasming hips on his seat and control his raging breath. “If you want to stare lovingly into each other’s eyes, get a room okay?” the girl teased them, oblivious to the sultry interaction she had just interrupted.

Betty climbed off Jughead’s lap, her boyfriend assisting her in settling back beside him before taking off his jacket to cover the mess of him and her at the front of his jeans. He circled his arms around her waist, bringing her back flat against his chest, and left a sensually slow kiss against her neck, still intoxicated from his sudden and intense high.

“I hope you haven’t planned anything for the rest of the night.” His lips trailed up her neck to whisper in her ear, fingers playing with the hem of her skirt and itching to get buried under the soft material, to feel her tiny muscles this time spasming vigorously because of his teasing. “My dad gave me the truck and right now the only thing I desperately want is to return the favor.” He told her naughtily, boyish smirk intact, and Betty bit her lip in anticipation, thinking that sometimes being a bad girl was fun after all.

[evercharmed-a]

“Have you used a portal before?” Minchan asks the question like he doesn’t care much about the answer. The click of his heels on the pavement is distracting, a staccato in bright pink. He’s a lot to handle in the group chat, but even more of a handful in real life. Glittery eyeshadow and perfectly manicured nails, he’s a living doll, making mock kissy faces at every person walking by who dares to stare. A force of nature if Lysander ever saw one. “Hello? Are you listening?”

Minchan snapping his fingers in his face brings Lysander back to reality. “Um, what? Sorry, I wasn’t… “ With a huff and a quick wave of his hand, Minchan dismisses his reply. “It doesn’t matter, does it. I’m not walking all the way to Rei’s stupid forest. I’m not going to let my baby witch do it, either.” As always when Minchan uses this nickname of his, Lysander’s heart skips a beat. It’s one thing to read it, yet another entirely to hear it. And maybe it’s imagination, but something fond colors it, something soft. Lysander fights a smile, biting his lower lip hard. It’s somehow endearing, that particular brand of a handful Minchan is. He drags him into some alley, its dead end around a brickwalled corner. From his jacket’s pocket he pulls a piece of white chalk, and promptly begins to draw a circle lined and filled with odd symbols on the wall closest to him. Lysander watches in awe and confusion both. “Oh,” Minchan says, shooting him a grin over his shoulder. “It’s for the portal. You see, for some magic, we need preparation. Magic circles, sometimes little sacrifices, that sort of thing. It’s too advanced for you right now.” Instead of dampening his mood, this revelation makes Lysander’s stomach flip in joy. “I’ll… learn this, too?” “Of course!” Minchan finishes his work off and takes a step back, pocketing the chalk again. “You’ll learn this, and how to make potions... I might just teach you some conjuring, too. Just don’t go trying to summon some demon, yes? That never goes well.” Once again, Lysander only half listens, too entranced by the casualness of Minchan going about his business. He squares his shoulders and places an outstretched hand into the very center of the circle. As soon as his fingers touch the chalk, it springs to life, glowing a gentle white. Minchan pulls his hand back slowly. The circle lifts off the wall, sticking to his skin like a spiderweb. It hangs in the air, still connected to Minchan’s hand. Lysander’s jaw falls open. Of course, Minchan notices. “Neat, isn’t it? Wait until you see Qiaomeng doing it. He doesn’t even need a surface, just draws the thing in the air right away. Talented bastard.” He falls silent, eyes closed. The glow of the circle brightens. Around it, the air flimmers like it does in the hot summer sun. Lysander inhales, catching the slightest whiff of ozone. Minchan balls his hand into a loose fist, only his forefinger sticking out. He drags the pad of it down the length of the circle, and, little by little, it breaks open in the wake of his touch. When Minchan reaches the end, the chalk peels back in its entirety, revealing a swirl of muted purples and greens dispersed in a sea of endless black. It takes over the circle, stretching to about Minchan’s height. It stops as soon as it touches the ground. Lysander’s heart flutters in his chest. His arms break out in goose-flesh. “Wow,” is all he manages to press out. Minchan hums. “This is a portal. It’s like… a door, except it leads into someone’s home if that someone allows it. Rei isn’t a fan of it, but he lets us use one, anyhow.” “Why doesn’t he like it?” “A talented witch could trace this magic back to him. I’ll have Parfait erase as much of it after we’re done as she can, but there’ll always be some leftover in places spells were used. Rei’s mostly worried someone might have the idea to murder him in his sleep, really.” Lowering his voice, Minchan adds, “He’s got a bit of a reputation. The plants he grows are highly sought after, some impossible to get around these parts unless you want to pay a hefty sum. He has all reason to be cautious.” Lysander makes a little noise of understanding. All he knows about Rei is that he lives in a forest – magical and weird, as Qiaomeng had put it – and that he’s powerful, too. He should have asked more questions. “Anyway.” Minchan grasps him gently by the shoulders and steers him towards the portal. “It’s best if you close your eyes and keep your limbs pressed to your body until you’re back on solid ground. Got it? I’ll be right behind you.” Before Lysander gets another word in, Minchan pushes him. Everything goes dark. His stomach swoops again, but not at all in joy this time. He finds himself hovering in nothingness before he’s swept away. Like a tornado toying with a skinny branch, he’s scooped up and tossed about, a deafening roar in his ears. Static sticks to his skin, crawling across it in a numbing tingle. Lysander opens his mouth to scream, but no sound makes it out. A flash of green breaks through the dark. Lysander slams face first into a tree, its leaves shivering with the impact. “Oh. Oh, no,” a voice close to him says. Someone places a hand on his shoulder in cadence to a wave of nausea flooding through him. Lysander retches, hunching over. The hand moves to pat his back, all gentle. “There, there. Travelling with portals is never fun, I’m afraid. He should have told you.” He chances a look to his right, to where the voice is coming from, and is met with bare feet on mossy forest floor. Pressing the back of his hand to his mouth, he straightens slowly. Miles and miles of forest stretch out around him, trees and bushes and a little creek gently running its course. Birdsong fills the space, lined with the rustle of leaves overhead. Rei lives in a forest. This forest. “Is everything alright again?” the voice asks, and the hand disappears. Lysander nods absently. “Sorry, I… oh.” A young man steps into his view – the one those bare feet belong to – and gives him an encouraging, but small smile. He’s taller than Lysander is, his hair a warm shade of blond reminiscent of honey. Something about him is… off. His skin is too perfect, his movements just shy of oily. There’s a startling darkness to his eyes. Not human, his instincts scream at him, though he passes as one well enough. The portal buzzes. Minchan emerges with grace, touching his feet to the ground as though he were a cat leaping off the sofa. He beams at the both of them, the definition of cheeky. “I see you’ve already met our hermit.” The not-quite-human huffs, crossing his arms. A few heads of flowers peek through his hair, all varying shades of red. “Why did you let him go through it like this? It’s dangerous.” “Oh, relax. Don’t talk to me about dangerous. You grow flesh-eating plants.” “ – that never harm anyone unless I tell them to –” “Right. That makes it better.” The puzzle pieces click belatedly. “Oh!” Lysander says, clutching at his chest. “You’re Rei!” Rei turns toward him, wearing the same smile as before. “And you’re Lysander. I’ll get you something for the queasiness. Portals get to everyone the first time, especially if you’re not fully prepared.” He shoots Minchan a weighty look at his last few words. Minchan retaliates by sticking out his tongue. Rei ignores him. “Come, I’ll show you inside.” “Inside”, as it turns out, is a little hut hidden behind layers of what Minchan calls “glamour”. After a simple wave of Rei’s hand, it appears out of thin air, flimmering at the edges like Minchan’s circle had done. It sits in the middle of a fenced in, lush garden, a plethora of brightly colored flowers and plants. Some, Lysander recognizes, but others he’s never seen in his life. A walkway of grey stones leads to the entrance door, heavy looking and wooden. The door swings open on its own, or so it appears. Rei bends down to pick something up, cupping it ever so gently in his palms. It’s a tiny, albino hedgehog. “Thank you, Lilac.” Rei presses a kiss to the hedgehog’s forehead. The hedgehog makes a noise that sounds suspiciously flustered. “This is my familiar,” Rei follows it up with, showing Lilac to Lysander. “Say hello. Try to be friends. I’d hate for you two to not get along.” Lysander wrings his hands, staring at Lilac. Lilac doesn’t move, either, staring right back. “Um. H-hello. It’s nice to meet you.” Lilac raises his little snout into the air, and Rei frowns down at him. “What did I just say? Play nice.” Still, Lilac doesn’t look very impressed. He turns around in Rei’s palms before he vanishes in a shimmery flash of light. Rei shakes his head. “Don’t mind him. He needs a bit to warm up to someone.” Minchan mutters something about it being Rei’s own fault for never socializing. He goes ignored again. The inside of Rei’s hut is surprisingly normal. All his furniture is wooden or partly wooden, from the round table in the kitchen to the sofa lined with the plushest cushions and pillows to the TV stand. Herbs and flowers hang from every wall, both dried and fresh. The most outlandish item is the big cauldron in the middle of the kitchen, a fire lit underneath it. Whatever’s inside it bubbles gently, filling the air with a sweet, herby scent. Of all the cliched witch-things Lysander expected to see, this is the most accurate to his imaginations. Upon closer inspection, however, he finds that the TV and the kitchen itself are both highly modern. Rei even owns a gaming console. How and where is he getting his electricity from? Something tells him the answer will either be magic, or so mundane that he would have never considered it. A question for another day. Rei gathers them together in the middle of the living room and has them sit on the floor after pushing the coffee table aside. He hands Lysander a small pill and a glass of water instead of the potion he’d expected, and Lysander gulps both down. Apparently, even witches have a need for regular medicine. Perhaps solving everything with magic is against the rules. If there are any rules. He has so much to learn. “Did you bring the salves?” Rei asks, seated cross-legged next to Lysander. A few days earlier, Rei instructed him to prepare a couple of standard salves to put on wounds, ones that his job as a nurse has long familiarized him with. He’d told him to make them with the intent to heal, to concentrate on and visualize the process of a wound closing. So Lysander had done exactly that. And though he’d found himself tempted to test them, himself, he thought it more prudent to wait until both Minchan and Rei could ascertain their capabilities. If they had any special ones, anyhow. Lysander gives a quick nod, taking the two small, rotund plastic containers out of his sling bag. They used to be filled with store-bought skin care, serving this purpose just fine. Rei takes them with a grateful nod. One he hands Minchan, the other he keeps, unscrewing the lid. He tilts it gently in his palm so the light catches in the creaminess of the salve, making it glisten. He brings it up to his face to smell it, humming as he does. Whether or not it’s a satisfied noise, Lysander can’t tell. “They smell nice,” Minchan comments, tilting his container every which way like Rei had done. “Why’d you make him make these?” Rei smiles, that same, small smile, but there’s an edge to it. Smug. “Because I asked him what he’s interested in. Have you done the same?” Minchan sputters. “I – you know, it’s not like we can just jump into what he likes. He needs basics. That’s what I’m concerned about.” This playful back and forth is just as endearing as Minchan’s whirlwind persona. Lysander can’t stop himself from giggling, which earns him a wider smile from Rei and a noise from Minchan like he’s terribly martyred. But he’s smiling, too, unable to hide it even behind that huffy facade. “Well,” Rei says after a moment of comfortable silence, “I suppose we’ll need to test these.” He gets up and walks over to the kitchen to rummage in a drawer. What he pulls out glints silvery in his palm, and only when he sits back down, it becomes clear what it is. A knife. Vines snake around its handle, deep green in color. The blade itself is simple and two-edged, a small symbol etched into the very tip of it. Rei reaches out, takes one of Minchan’s hands and quickly drags the knife from one side of his palm to the other. Minchan yelps. “What the fuck?! Have you lost your –” Minchan struggles, but Rei tightens his grasp on his hand, keeping him in place. Blood wells up from the cut, beading along the surface. “As I said, we need to test his salves,” Rei says, his voice unaffected. He turns his attention towards Lysander, who has since frozen in his spot. His heart hammers in his chest, a new wave of sickness sloshing in his stomach. As used as he is to seeing blood, a warning would have been nice. Minchan struggles again, but it’s still in vain. He goes slack a moment after, averting his eyes. “I’m going to be sick.” Rei hums vaguely, still looking at Lysander. “Which one of them would you use for a cut like this?” “Um.” Lysander slowly inches forward to take a closer look at the cut. It’s not deep, something that would heal just fine on its own once its dressed. He picks up one of his salves, offering it to Rei. “This one.” “Well, go on then. Put it on.” Lysander blinks at him. None of this is what he’d expected of this get-together, but he doesn’t have the luxury to complain. Hesitating, he asks Rei for something to clean the blood up with, and Rei disappears again only to return with a damp washcloth. Lysander wipes the cut down, careful not to hurt Minchan too much, before he dips a finger into the salve, coating the pad of it with the thinnest layer. “This… might sting a little,” he warns as he gently rubs the salve along the cut. Even before he manages to reach the end of it, the cut begins to close. He and Minchan both gape at it, at the way the skin knits together on its own right in front of their eyes. Lysander finishes his job to watch the rest of it close, too, leaving Minchan’s palm pristine as if nothing ever happened. No scab, no scar. Nothing. “Holy shit,” Minchan whispers in awe, inspecting his hand up close. Next to him, Rei chuckles. “I knew it would work the moment you handed it to me. You must have felt that, too, Minchan.” Minchan, rubbing his thumb along the spot where the cut used to be, nods dumbly. “I… felt something, sure. But I’m not good at healing magic. I couldn’t tell it was going to be like this.” Rei wipes his knife down with the damp washcloth. It’s all a little much to take in – Rei being so casual, Minchan so shocked, this place and Lysander’s salve actually working. His head spins with this slew of information. Judging by the softness of Rei’s face, he’s noticed. He puts a hand on Lysander’s shoulder, squeezing gently. “You have a talent. Very potent magic. You’ll make a great healer one day, baby witch.” For the umpteenth time, Lysander’s heart skips a beat.