#the bigger thing is that the pupils do not rest against the eyelid. they just float in there free style

[beheeyemite]

Made a transparent version of the new sonic channel artwork and then I used it to practice drawing this things face.

Bonus haircut Silver from when I was joking around w my siblings.

[bigtreefest]

Chapter 6: Missing Someone

From: Bigger Houses Series

Pairing: Mountain Ranger! Ari x Reader

Summary: It’s time to tell all and talk about each other’s pasts

Word Count: 2,417

Content/Warnings: ANGST, kissing, use of pet names, no-good exs, crying and near-crying, miscommunication but it’s resolved

Author’s Note: I was gonna make it bad, but then I realized, it’s not like this couple to have a huge blowout fight and misunderstanding. They’re too good at talking it out.

Shoutout to my childhood friend I visited last week for helping me write this. He won’t read it, but I appreciate him indulging my thought process. Likes, comments, reblogs, and asks are sooooo welcome and appreciated!!

Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

Below is the song which inspired this chapter. It makes me very sad tbh. I skip it a lot when listening.

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You and Ari were going to build a new dresser in your bedroom. It had been nearly six months of being together officially. Your old furniture was breaking down already, so the two of you had gone shopping. Ari insisted he was just going so that he could provide his truck for hauling it, but you knew that wasn’t the case when he turned down the first three you liked.

“No, that one won’t match the wood grains of your cabin.”

“What’s the material on that one? Pressed composite? No good.”

“Sure Duchess, that one could work…if you’re blind.”

You rolled your eyes at that last one,

holding back a laugh. Sure, those were valid reasons, but any minor criticism was something you took personally. He didn’t even live with you! Finally, you’d gotten him to agree to a nice, subtle piece that complemented your bed frame without clashing against the rest of the cabin. The only issue was, you had to build it.

Once the two of you had gotten home from the furniture store, you were exhausted. Not only from the shopping, but from long drive since you had to go to the nearest city with hopes of finding anything good.

After eating dinner, you and Ari settled on the couch together, cuddling to catch up on the show you two were binging at the moment. Sure, you usually preferred to do things away from screens, but sometimes, there was nothing that could replace classic, trashy TV. The dresser could wait. Ari was laying on his back and you were laying directly on top of him, ear over his steady heartbeat until you drifted to sleep.

You began to stir awake and stretch when you realized the TV wasn’t playing anymore. Strong hands stroked your back and your eyelids fluttered open. Your sleepy pupils sparkled and dilated as you moved your chin to Ari’s chest to see him looking down at you the same way, him not even realizing the way he smiled when you were within this eye sight.

“Well good morning handsome.” Your voice was full of sleep.

“Good morning.” Ari leaned forward to kiss your nose as he pulled his phone out of his pocket.

“Looks like it really is morning. 2:47 am.”

You hummed in response. “I think we kinda threw off our sleep schedule with what was supposed to be a nap.”

Ari nodded and laughed. “Oh definitely. But now we’ve got all this time to be productive. You wanna build that dresser?”

You groaned and threw your head into his chest, smushing it your nose and mouth. “Yeah, I guess so.”

You groaned and sighed before your muffled voice came out against his pecs again. “Lemme go pee first.”

You pushed off of Ari’s chest, causing him to exhale most of the air in his lungs with a laugh before he watched you scurry to the bathroom.

Ari got up and walked toward your room to get started on the dresser while he waited for you. Just as he sat on the floor straddling the instructions and some spare parts, he heard a buzzing coming from the nightstand, lighting up your dim bedroom.

“Duchess, your phone is ringing.” He yelled out the bedroom door.

“You can get it. I’ll be out soon. It could be important since they’re calling this time of night.” He heard your faint response.

With a groan, Ari stood up again and took the few large strides towards your nightstand, picking up the phone off the charger. The number wasn’t saved.

“Hello?”

“Hey, is that you? I miss you s’much. You should come over.” A man slurred from the other side of the line.

Ari was confused. He knew the area code of the phone number wasn’t from around here, but who was this man and why was he calling at this hour?

“Who is this?” Ari gritted out the words. He was beginning to feel something. There was anger, there was frustration. He was hurt that this seemed like something that was kept from him. The man on the other side of the line continued to call out your name.

“It’s me. It’s Oscar. Where are you? My bed’s cold.”

That got Ari. It hit him where it hurts and he felt a pang in his chest. He hung up the phone and stalked over to the bathroom where you were washing your hands as his hands shook. You hadn’t looked up yet.

“Hey Bear, was it anything important?” You were met with silence, only Ari’s heavy breathing and the sound of running water filling the air. When he finally spoke up, you could hear a near-growl in his voice.

“Who is Oscar?” Your head darted up and your wide eyes met his through the mirror. You shut off the water, dried your hands, and turned around.

“He’s no one. No one that we should be concerned about, anyway. Why did he call?”

You could see the worry on Ari’s brow and the tears that threatened to fill his reddening eyes. “He said his bed was cold. He misses you. Is there something I don’t know?”

You broke your gaze with Ari, looking at your shifting feet on the cool floor while you fiddled with your fingertips. You took a deep breath and a step towards Ari, surprised by him taking a step back. He’d been hurt before and he didn’t need it coming from you, too. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion at his distance.

“Oscar is my ex. I should’ve known it would be him calling at this hour.” Ari’s look of hurt took on even more emotion; it was his turn to be confused.

“So he calls you often at this time of night? When I’m not around? And you don’t tell me? Do you always pick it up?”

You shook your head, reaching out to Ari, glad that this time he let your set your hands on his waist.

“No.” You whispered back, your watery gaze meeting his. “I know you and I have been a little private with our pasts, but I think it’s time we tell each other everything.”

Ari nodded as you followed him to the couch. A place where you two had just had your bodies pressed together found you sitting on opposite ends, your legs criss-crossed in front of you and Ari’s long legs out to the side. You weren’t touching at all as you pulled a pillow up against your chest for comfort and took a deep breath, preparing to start.

You told Ari everything. All about the relationship. The expectations, the lies, the late night phone calls, the broken promises, the new girl after the breakup. He nodded along, keeping a mostly level face, although he maintained a mild layer of disgust. How could someone so awful keep you for so long? You were too good for Oscar. Heck, Ari thought to himself, you were too good for him, too. But he would spend the rest of his life becoming better for you if he had to.

As Ari was taking it all in, you continued on. “Mostly during the relationship, but even for a few months after, he would still call me late at night. It’s been over a year since the last time. I honestly thought he would’ve forgotten all about me by now. I don’t have his contact saved anymore. Something must’ve happened, though. But it’s not my problem. He was always whiskey drunk and saying he missed me, just like this time, but I knew that wasn’t the case.”

You looked up at Ari. He seemed like he was beginning to understand. “When we were dating, I fell for it. I fell for all the sweet, yearning things he would say, and I’d come over. We’d dance down the hallway and fall into his bed. We’d lay there and talk, well, it was almost always him doing the talking and lying until the sun came up. I really lost my voice over that whole thing.”

Ari felt such deep sadness for you. His favorite thing was when you would talk passionately about something random or speak your mind against the popular opinion. To hear that someone took that away, someone didn’t appreciate you and your amazing qualities, made him want to scream. His jaw clenched and he kept his silence, grateful for the full insight on your life. If Ari ever met Oscar, well, who knows what would happen to that punk?

Your voice began to break as you sniffled. “I know he wasn’t trying to hurt me, or break my heart, but I felt used. Like I was a late night lonely drug. I know he thought he loved me, and he would say that I was all he wanted, but I think he just wanted someone. At one point, I wished that I was that one he wanted, but I think a part of me always knew I wasn’t.”

Ari had crept closer again over the duration of your story. He pulled you in tight to his chest and rubbed your back as you wept, tears staining his old t-shirt. He had no idea how someone so awful could bring down someone so amazing, so angelic. You were everything. The sun rose and and set on you for Ari.

He pulled away and set his eyes deeply on yours, his hands holding your fingers. “I’m so sorry, Angel. I’m sorry you had to go through that. You deserve the world. Anyone who can’t see that was never worthy to even be in your presence.” He kissed your forehead and your eyes gently closed at the gesture as a soft smile graced your face again at his true, genuine sweetness.

“You are the world. You’re my world, and I’m going to spend as long as I have to so you can see how much you mean to me. Every day, I’m going to do everything I can to give you the love you deserve. To show you just how much I really, truly, honestly love you.”

You sat there, mouth agape in shock. There it was. That was the first time either of you had dared to say the L-word to each other. It wasn’t haphazardly thrown out there as a last-ditch effort to stay. It wasn’t overused and thin. It was heavy, it was intentional, and it was true. It carried such a weight to it, but your were sure Ari wouldn’t have dropped it had he not meant the word with his whole soul.

You felt it too, though. That was the part that astounded you. There was no other person who you believed could ever hold a place so fitting for the word love. There was only Ari.

“I love you, too.” You spoke firmly, gazing into his bright blue eyes, lit up extra from his beaming smile. His hand moved up to your cheek and he leaned in for a kiss. His soft lips met yours as your tongues danced together. There was no greed, no rush. Just love.

When you pulled away, you rested your foreheads against each other. You sighed and giggled. “While I’m out here being honest. I feel like there’s something else I should tell you.”

Ari’s head tilted to the side, confused on what other bombshell you could be hiding. The truth was, you had never been completely forthright with your thoughts.

“Did I do something to make you feel like you couldn’t be honest with me before?” You could hear the wavering in his tone. After such a vulnerable moment, what else could be coming?

“No, no, that’s not at all what’s going on. It’s just…ugh….” You were beginning to grow frustrated with yourself. There was so much you kept locked inside as a result of how Oscar hurt you. You were elated it was coming out for Ari to see. He deserved to know every side of you, but words were hard to formulate in the right way.

“I’m sorry. I want to communicate more openly with you. But it’s scary. I thought when you found out about everything with Oscar, you’d judge me for it. You’d look at me differently.” He shook his head, about to speak up before you cut him off.

“I want to be able to explain it all fully. I should’ve told you all this sooner. I knew once I gave you everything, it would lock me in. It would have solidified everything in a way we can’t come back from. You knowing all the details of my life. I didn’t want it to blow up, because I knew if it did, I would never recover. If I’m being honest, I was so scared to give it all over to you because I’ll never get it back.”

Ari’s blew out a puff of air, processing your words. He simply nodded, allowing you to finish. He completely understood where you were coming from. To trust someone so deeply again after pain like that was the scariest thing he could think of, and he was going through it, too. He was just glad you did trust him. Because he’d give you everything you deserved and more in a heartbeat. The two of you weren’t locked in to anything bad at all, you were just securing yourselves in something you already knew.

After all the heaviness, you made an attempt to lighten the mood. “And, I think you should know, I’m completely capable of assembling a dresser by myself. There are just some times I ask you for help because I want to spend time with you. Not because I need it.”

You winked and Ari heartily laughed in response. “Is that also why you asked me if I needed help cooking dinner last week?”

It was your turn to laugh, throwing you head back before pulling it forward and shaking it back and forth. “No. Sometimes I offer help because I can’t stand to watch as you do something wrong.”

Ari playfully rolled his eyes and pulled you in close for one of his signature bear hugs. He spoke into your hair. “Well, I’m just happy you keep me around. And I’m always happy to do whatever, right by your side, like a true partner. I love you.”

You both inhaled each other’s scents deeply. “I love you, too.”

When you pulled away, Ari opened up and told you everything about his past, too.

Next >

Bonus A/N: reverence is rare and lies are plentiful

Series Taglist:

@patzammit

@hawkeyes-queen

@identity2212

[tobi-momo]

2:16 A.M. • B. Koutarou

Waking up next to him was a blessing. Especially when you could only make up his silhouette in the pitch dark of midnight, the only obvious features sticking to your peripheral vision being his fluffy hair and the toned muscles in his biceps. You didn't know why you couldn't sleep anymore, something in your brain switching from whatever dream flowed through your unconscious mind to the reflected light that flickered on his skin as the rain poured ever so loudly outside the window. It was almost magical, someone this beautiful actually exists. Your pillow was warm—uncomfortable—as you squirm inside the sheets. Your feet occasionally tapping his leg and eventually draping over it, finally in its resting place with your body just inches closer to his bigger frame. His cheeks were smooth, his long eyelashes shimmering from the shadowed water, and his lips...full and pink, moisturized. You smiled to yourself with pride, as you knew exactly what that tasted like. You barely reacted when you saw his eyelids flutter open, pupils dilating to the lack of light in the room. No noises were made, only hazy eye contact while he lazily glided his hand around your hip, letting his arm dangle on your side. He groaned, snaking his head into the crook of your neck with a long, hushed exhale, barely slicing the silence. You closed your eyes again, allowing yourself to drift unconscious in a new, comfortable position while you bathe in his warmth. He left his eyelids open, though. His droopy eyes only prying away from the darkness because his vision was set on one thing. The way your chest and shoulder rose and fell slowly to match your breathing, and how your rhythmic pulse felt against him. The way your skin stayed smooth and soft even after how many times he's rubbed circles on it with his fingers. His focus tunneled on your sleeping figure, the corners of his lips curling tiredly as he finally lets his vision go dark beside you. It was the best experience, being with you. He wanted to do it forever.

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[mrpenguinpants]

Childe: First Kiss HCs

I tend to make things gender neutral by not putting in pronouns and just using “you” but you can definitely read this as female^^ But I completely agree, I love this boy so much. He’s my favourite character to play (im so sorry razor) until Xiao comes out. I literally have a genshin team named “waiting for xiao” and it’s just Childe and Zhongli haha. 

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Today’s appreciation post goes to childes-starconch. Fitting that this is a Childe fic but ty for your support^^ I always notice you pop up as soon as I post a fic and I really enjoy seeing you. Hopefully you read this since tumblr won’t let me tag people, for whatever reason I don’t know anymore, but just saying hey, I see you 💕💕

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I’m just gonna piggy back off my last Childe fic. I’m sorry. 

Semi Part 1:  Fiance HCs [honestly, one of my favourites haha] 

Xiao Ver:  First Kiss HCs

Venti & Kaeya: Mistletoe HCs

Venti, Xingqiu, and Razor: Kissing HCs

[Masterlist]

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[taglist]  <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@hanniejji​  @mikeysbike​ @unionwitch​ @musekala​ @twistedsunnshiii​ @stanzastic​ @akaasea​ @xoneaboveallx​ @adoring-ghost​ @asheseiler​ @childelover​@youaskedfurret​ @snowy224 

@youaskedfurret​ @diaxfeliz​ @wintergreen-aix​ @dandelily​ @thegayrubberducky​ @lovelykittycatmeow​ @yuunoagivesmelife​  @dokidokisama @simpygrimoire @minakohasmanyhusbandos​ @strwbrry-lia    @tigerpriestess 

For some reason I can’t @ certain people. I’m talking to tumblr about it. 

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Childe: First Kiss HCs

Childe was never one to shy away from affection, be it holding your hand in his or wrapping an arm around you, he was always happy to be close to you. He was always a bit territorial which lead to some embarrassing situations for you but it was from a good place in his heart. But when it came to public kisses, he preferred to keep it between you two. It felt too private of a moment that he didn’t want to broadcast to the rest of the Fatui, especially to the other Harbingers. That is to say, if he actually kissed you in the first place. For all the two braincells Childe had, one was fighting and the other was protecting his loved ones, just imagining kissing you was too much for him and he needed to go find some poor recruit and beat his inner problems out. The Fatui recruitment process would always dwindled down during his inner turmoil sessions that Scaramouche himself, had to throw his goddamn hat at Tartaglia, and yell at him to hurry up and fix his problem. It was clogging up the air. 

When he tried to think about it, it shouldn’t be this hard to simply lean in for a kiss. But it was his first and while Childe might run into whatever danger or prospect of a fight without a second thought, he didn’t want to ruin it. What if he accidently bonked his forehead with yours? He should remove his mask then right? Just in case? He’s only given forehead and cheek kisses to his younger siblings so it should be the same right? Yeah he could do this, this was just another battle for Tartaglia to conquer! 

But whenever he would see you or you would both sit and bask in each other’s presences. He couldn’t bring himself to initiate something or heck, even looking at your face made him a bit hot under the collar in sub-zero temperatures. He can almost hear Scaramouche and Signora laughing maniacally at him behind their hands. He’s the youngest of the Harbingers, he should get a “get out of jail for free” card that all youngest children have whenever they get into trouble. But in this case it’s murder. He quickly slaps his cheeks to get his mind off fighting for one second which startles you beside him. 

The first time you’ve seen Childe shy was when he first confessed to you, stuttering that he liked you and just really badly wanted to hold your hand without using the frost of Sneznaya as an excuse. You flushed pink but nodded that you returned his feeling and slipped your hand in his. Whatever shyness Childe had was quickly wiped off his face and he cheered and brought you in for an eskimo kiss. Rubbing your nose with his as he laughed in joy, the tips of his ears and cheeks still coloured pink. You always hold that memory dear to your heart because not only was it the start of your relationship, it was the first time you felt you were staring at Ajax. Not Childe. Not Tartaglia. Just Ajax. 

But now, you’re not to sure what to call this. Lately he seemed to be out of it, always staring off into space or frowning at some poor poor snowmen that did not deserve that much pressure.  Was being a harbinger starting to take it’s toll on him? Did something terrible happen to his family or was the Tsaritsa being too hard on him? You were beginning to get concerned because you’ve never seen this much mental turmoil in him. This never really happened before and he usually bounced back pretty fast. Would it be better if you left him be and he sorted it out himself? Would it be better if you asked? 

Childe is startled out of his thoughts of possible committed murder because he’s too scared to ask his own partner if kissing was something they could do, when he felt your hand slowly nudge his. No matter how many times he holds your hand, you’re always warm. It could be snow storming outside and the only heater he would need would be you. He offers a small but warm smile as he laces his fingers with yours. He remembers when you first started going out he was so scared about boundaries and what was okay. Brushing your fingers together and overall, not doing a good job at saying he wanted to hold hands that even he cringes slightly at his younger self - even though it wasn’t that long ago and he’s doing it again just with kisses - but now he borderline clings to you like some overgrown animal. Scaramouche’s words, not his. 

It’s still evening in Snezhnaya and the Tsaritsa herself seems to be taking a vacation because there’s only a light snow falling down between the two of you. You’re both sitting outside his house while his family is inside, warm and having fun playing games. He breathes in, closes his eyes, and let’s the world fade away just a second. He slowly brings his other hand to cup your cheek, his hands are always numb and the tiny pin pricks are dancing on his fingers again before they fade away too, and guides you towards him so he can place a small kiss on your fore head. Then tilts your face to the side so he can kiss your cheek. Brings his nose near yours to nuzzle against. Then hesitates when his lips hover above yours. 

“Ajax is there something bothering you?” you ask softly, you’re so close to each other that all you can see is him. The small puffs of breathe you both take bounce off each other’s face before evaporating into the air. You never really took the time to appreciate Ajax’s bright blue eyes. His pupil from this distance seems to be slitted too. 

“Hm? Ah no, of course not. Where did you get that idea?” he tries to laugh it off and tries to move back before you quickly bring your hand to the back of his head and nudge him forward so he stays in place. It wasn’t like him to run away from something, it was really starting to bother you what could get Ajax of all people to retreat from something. 

“You know if there’s anything that’s bothering you, you can talk to me right?” you asked as you brought both your hands to cup his face as you softly rubbed circles just under his ear. He closed his eyes and hmmed happily at your actions and nuzzled further into your hand before turning his head inward to kiss your palm. Before relaxing and parting his eyelids half way as he seemed to be back in concentration mode. Before awkwardly saying what was troubling him these past few days. 

“So wait, you mean to tell me that this entire time I was worried about you. How out of it you were and how many fights you’ve been getting into. Was because you wanted a kiss?” you asked dumfounded as he pouted but nodded. You sighed but bonked your foreheads together softly, “You’re such an idiot....C’mere.” 

“Wha-” 

You grab the scarf on his harbinger uniform and tug him forward as your lips slot over his. You kiss him hard and for a few seconds as Ajax just stares at you as his brain tries to catch up, before his eyes seem to dilate and he kisses you back just as hard. All his past worries are quickly thrown out the window as slowly pushes you on your back, cushioned by the soft snow, as he basks in the feeling. It’s a bit sloppy given this is both your first kisses but that’s what adds to the charm. You both have to separate at some point for oxygen but Childe looks like he’s ready to dive in again. 

“One more,” he pants as he goes in for another but you quickly place your hand in the way so he ends up kissing your palm. He whines but you chuckle at him, place a small kiss on the back of your palm of where his lips would be, and push him off you. You’re both still outside his families home and you aren’t in the mood to be caught in this kind of position. Especially not in front of his younger siblings. He rests his cheek on your shoulder and looks at you, trying to make his eyes bigger and look like a kicked puppy. You sigh as you give a small pet on his head, running your fingers through your hair. What a troublesome partner you’ve gotten. 

“Alright, one more.” 

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My entire taglist was just made for the  “Enemies” to “Lovers” post and I still haven’t started hehe. Trust me, it’s coming. I’ve got requests for it and we’re slowly getting there. The entire time I’m writing this I’m just thinking “honey..no, that’s not how this works.” God you’re so dumb. I hate you. You’re my favourite character. Pour one out for Xiao, I was going to make this a crack fic too but ended up making it somewhat serious. 

So yeah, xiao is a cat and childe is a fox. In other news, water is wet. But I did actually google fox behaviors just for this shitpost. ALRIGHT TIME TO SPIN THE WHEEL OF “WILL TUMBLR BE NICE TO ME?” OR DO I NEED TO DOUBLE REPOST AGAIN. 

[tsukishumai]

Akai Honō

pairing: suna rintaro x gn!reader

wc: 3k+

genre: fluff, yokai au, slight reincarnation au

tags/warnings: kitsune!suna, healer!reader, minor violence, mentions of blood/injuries

summary: an injured fox in the snow, a lonely healer in the woods — an unlikely connection to transcend lifetimes

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You first encounter Suna Rintarou lying under a blanket of snow — his blue lips and pale skin even more juxtaposed against the bright red stain encircling the white ground beneath his chest.

Your basket laid toppled onto its side and forgotten, the herbs you’ve collected spilled and dropped in your haste to aid the injured man.

At first glance, he looked frozen. His black and white yukata had been steeped in dark crimson liquid that had leaked from the tear below his right breast. His dark brown hair matted onto his forehead, and his eyes remained squeezed shut as his body lay prone on the ground.

You ripped the bandana you had wrapped around your head off in one quick motion, immediately applying pressure to the bleeding wound. With one hand keeping the cloth in place, you use your other hand to gently ease his head onto your lap, and it was then you finally noticed.

A twitch of his ear as you repositioned his body. A tail matching the hue of his blood-caked locks hanging limp in the wet snow as you tried to stand him up.

A part of you hesitated, hands stilling as they attempted to support the body of the yokai.

But a bigger part of you knows that none of that matters when a man’s life is withering away before you.

And so without another thought, you urge yourself to move on, guided forward by the swirling winds of winter.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

When Suna Rintarou awakens, the first thing he feels is a weight resting on the side of his leg. His thoughts attempt to roll in through the fog of his brain, but as soon as he lifts his head, it begins to pound him back into his pillow.

His eyes blink into focus an unfamiliar setting -- four wooden walls lined by shelves stocked with scrolls and books, a wooden desk with a mortar and pestle, herbs littered across the table haphazardly, and the scent of something astringent burning the inside of his nostrils. Once more, Suna tries to gather his bearings, and an attempt at moving his arms leads to the discovery of the bandages that covered his torso.

A searing pain shoots through his side, and a hiss escapes from his lips. At this, the weight beside him stirs and it was then he finally notices.

He scrambles out of the bed in a frenzied panic, though the weakness from his injury only allows him to clumsily crawl onto the floor. Your head shoots up like lightning, alarmed by the racket the incapacited kitsune was making in your home.

Your chair falls onto its back in your rush to stand, and Suna wills with all his might for his body to jump out the window. But the way his knees buckle beneath his weight, and his arm feels as if it’s been dipped into fire, he knows this feat would be impossible.

And so he resorts to scurrying into the corner, the pupils of his eyes narrowing into a slit against the human who now approached him.

“Stay away from me,” he hisses, swatting his claws half-heartedly at you.

You looked down at him with your hands raised and face scrunched with concern.”Hey, quit moving around or else you’ll —“

Suna groans as his hand grabs at his side. The kitsune collapses on his bottom as he clutches himself in his arms, pulling his hand away only for it to be stained red.

You click your tongue at him. “You’ve gone and opened the wound,” you sighed, slowly crouching down to his level. You get on your hands on your knees as you gingerly crawl towards Suna.

The gentleness of your movements, however, do nothing to deter the yokai’s wariness, and he inches himself closer to the wall.

“Don’t touch me, human,” he croaks out, voice cracked and hoarse, holding a hand out to keep you at bay, “What do you want from me?”

You sigh, sitting back on your heels and crossing your arms. You let out a frustrated huff, closing your eyes as you pinched the bridge of your nose, and it was then when the image of Suna’s crumpled body flashes in your head.

“I want you to quit bleeding all over my floor,” you groaned, but the harshness of your words did not match the softness in your eyes. Suna continues to glare, wincing as he pulls his knees up to his chest.

“Leave me alone! I’ve already told your kind that I was just passing through.”

He says the words with anger and frustration, but the narrowing of his glare holds fear and confusion. Your eyes glisten at how his fingers trembled against the bandages that were now soiled.

“Did humans do this to you?” You ask.

He refused to answer, but he didn’t have to. You knew the surrounding areas of your village all too well. A sickening fear against the unknown has grown deep roots in the hearts of your fellow neighbors that no amount of Kampo herbs could cure. It was no place for wandering yokai.

You breathe in through your nose, and out through your mouth. Your arm reaches out to him.

“You’re safe,” you beckon, lowering your voice to nothing but a gentle whisper. “I promise no harm will come to you while you are here.”

Suna stares at your hand with his nose upturned, and lips twisted into scowl. He watches as the human continues to crawl on all fours towards him, and he weighs out his options.

His wound begins to drip on the floor, his eyes start to feel heavy, and the weakness in his legs have forced him to come to only one conclusion.

Without a word, he places his hand into yours

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Soft grunting and shallow breathing is what has woken you up from your light slumber.

The kitsune was tossing and turning in his sleep, his surprisingly delicate features now covered in a sheen of cold sweat. With his gritted teeth and eyes clenched tightly, you were sure you didn’t want to know of the nightmares that haunted his rest.

You swiftly run and grab a clean towel, soaking it in cold water and squeezing the excess droplets back into the water bowl before kneeling beside Suna’s bed.

The heat from his body could be felt through the layers of blankets you had placed on top of him, and your heart ached at Suna’s face twisted with pain

Slowly, you place the damp cloth across his burning forehead — but as soon as cloth makes contact with skin, Suna’s eyes shoot open, angry red veins outlining the whites of eyes warped with confusion and anger.

His nails dig deep along the expanse of your wrist as he automatically swipes his claws abruptly in any direction, and you fall on your back as Suna sits up — chest heaving with each frightened breath.

He blinked once. Then twice.

His pupils dilate from their sinister slit into orbs of uncertainty and fear as he processes the streaks of red travelling down your arms. He grips the edge of his sheets, gulping the dryness down his throat.

An apology sat at the tip of his tongue, but his curiosity at seeing you slowly lift yourself up from the wooden floor had rendered him silent. You had said nothing as you held your wrist in your hand, bending over to pick up the small towel that lay forgotten on the ground.

You had saturated it once more, before laying it across Suna’s forehead as you pushed him back down onto his pillow.

“Get some rest,” You mumbled, before padding back into the kitchen.

Suna could still feel his heart running marathons around in his chest, beating into him for the first time in his life a guilt for spilling the blood of a human. What was to happen to him now?

You return a few moments later with a bandaged arm, and a cup of something steaming.

“Drink this,” you ordered, but Suna was hesitant to take it. You gesture the cup to him once more, “It’s not poisoned. It will help you sleep.”

Suna takes your offering. You don’t wait for him to drink it before turning around to leave.

The steam that wafted from the mug had smelled of peppermint and chamomile. Suna sips the warm liquid, and he notes a hint of lavender.

Sleep came to him like an old friend.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

It was two weeks later when you realized, Suna had stopped scowling in your direction. He sits up from his bed and watches with curiosity behind his wary gaze as you throw seemingly random herbs into your mortar before grinding it down with your pestle.

“What’s that?” He’d ask, and you’d think, with the way his eyelids droop lazily above his stare, that he could care less about the long winded explanation you offered regarding the many different uses of ginger and boswellia — but the next time you were making his salve, he was handing you the herbs in exactly the order you needed them.

“What are these?” He’d point to the makeshift herbal garden you’ve built in your spare bedroom, and he listened with rapt fascination as you demonstrated herbs that are not native to your prefecture, handing you the shears as he helped you cultivate your supplies.

“How’d you learn all of this,” he questioned once while you were changing his bandage, and he scoffed when you told him it was knowledge passed down from your grandmother, who got it from generations before her, who got it from generations before them.

“I didn’t think humans cared to do these kinds of things,” he mumbled, watching you cleanse at the healing gash with a cold cloth. You looked up at him in offense.

“What do you mean by that?”

“I thought all humans knew what to do was fight and kill,” the disdain was clear in Suna’s voice, and your fingers continued to work their treatment.

“And I thought all kitsune knew what to do was trick and lie,” you retorted, and the fox very nearly snarled his teeth. But the moment you rubbed a generous amount of your medicine, Suna could immediately feel the effects radiate through his chest. The pain slowly dissipated until he felt nothing more than an itch around the newly formed skin — his relief had been evident from the satisfied smirk on your lips.

“Maybe we were both wrong, hmm?”

You don’t bring up the blush on his cheeks, nor the fact that he’s also stopped flinching away from your touch.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Six weeks later, Suna Rintarou could only describe his time in your home as different.

It was different in that he doesn’t feel the need to look over his shoulder for something sharp and pointed against his throat. It was different in that the frostbite at the tips of his fingers had been absolved by the warmth he felt from the soup you’ve both made from the vegetables you’d gathered that morning, spreading far out from the pits of his belly down to the ends of his hairs.

You spoke to him with such easy grace, that each breathy laughter he managed to procure from your lips felt sinful as the melody flowed into his ears. You only ever looked at him with kindness — a rare experience for a thing like him.

Some days, when the ache in his body is dull and the strength is returning to his bones, you would find him patrolling the perimeter of your property, bending over to inspect the sturdiness of your fence, or testing the durability of your windows. The sun would rise from dawn, and fall into dusk before Suna would return back from his perusal. And while he refused to disclose just exactly what he had been doing outside for so long, a protection charm nailed against the tree behind your home had betrayed his secrets.

More than once, you would ask him to demonstrate his kitsune abilities, but no amount of puppy dog eyes or thinly veiled threats to stop his treatment could change Suna’s answer from a hard No.

“I bet you don’t even have any powers,” you pouted after hours of pestering with no reward

Suna would just laugh and shake his head, “If that’s what you want to think.”

It was easy to forget the original conditions of your arrangement.

What used to be lonely nights and quiet dinners soon became filled with stories of childhood and dreams beyond these four walls. The tediousness of pruning the weeds around your herbs was forgotten behind the lazy smiles of comforting company.

And with the improvement of the feral yokai you had found in the snow, came the realization that just as the fresh white powder is meant to melt into the rivers, all good things are bound to end.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“It’s all healed up now,” you say a week later, lifting Suna’s arm to inspect the fresh, white scar that now decorated the underside of his right breast, “I couldn’t do much about the scar, though.”

“That’s fine,” he responds, needling his arm back into the sleeve of his yukata, “It looks kind of cool.”

You chuckle at the thought before a hush falls upon the atmosphere. Suna’s eyes are trained onto his feet on the floor, his ear twitching as he fiddles with the hem of his clothes.

“Thank you,” he mutters out before slowly rising to meet your gaze, and you offer him a tight smile.

“It was nothing,” you laugh, waving a hand in front of your face.

A shiver travels down your spine as Suna wraps a hand around your wrist.

“My life is not nothing,” he whispers, lowering his head a fraction of an inch towards yours.

You swallow thickly as your eyes fall onto his lips. “If that’s what you want to think.”

He smirks slightly as he licks his lips, lowering even further until he stops. You hadn’t realized you stopped breathing until your lungs began to burn for air, and the thumping of your heart could be heard in your ears.

He remains frozen in place, his grip around you loosening as your eyes trail to meet his gaze.

Except, he wasn’t looking at you. His expression is crestfallen as he stares at his black claws against your wrist, and he traces his thumb over the deep pink scars that now decorate your skin.

Suna lets you go.

“You should get some rest,” he says as he pulls away.

You smile at him sadly.

“Good night, Rintaro.”

“Good night,” he replies, and he steps forward to place a chaste kiss on your forehead, “Thank you for everything.”

The sincerity in his words brought tears to your eyes.

In the morning, he was gone.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Once a month, you take a trip into town to sell excess inventory from your personal stock. Perhaps you’ll meet a villager with a particular ailment that only your Kampo could resolve, or a weary traveler simply looking for tea to help them sleep.

But today, you’ve met a man disgruntled by something else entirely.

“So, I heard you think it’s okay to hang with yokais,” the stranger followed you down the beaten bath, slurring his words and stumbling over his feet. You say nothing in return.

“What, humans not good enough for you, or something,” he was getting closer now, and you could feel his hot breath on your shoulders. You pick up your pace, but for someone so inebriated, he was hot on your heels.

“Hey, I’m fucking talking to you, you bi—“

At the same instant you felt a hand tightly grip your shoulder, you could feel an intense heat blow against your back, and gone as instantly as it came.

You turn around to see your assailant splayed out on the ground, desperately patting away at the red flames that licked at the edge of his clothes.

Suna emerges from seemingly nothing but a flash of lightning, walking dangerously slowly towards the pathetic man cowering the opposite way. A fire as hot as his flames burned beneath his irises, and you could never have imagined a look so angry on Suna’s soft features.

He lights his right palm in burning red fire.

“Try to touch them again if you want to die today, human.”

Red Fox Fire dances up into the air, licking hot at the harasser’s feet until they were nothing but a blip in the horizon.

You stay rooted to your spot, hand clutching your chest at the sudden display of Suna’s strength.

“Rintaro,” you called out to him.

Suna keeps his back to you, the furs on his ears and tails standing straight up. Soot stained his jacket from the fire he sent out to your attacker, and the faint scent of smoke wafted from his hair. You slowly take a step forward from your spot in the road, and slowly take another once you realize he’s not running away.

You delicately placed a hand on his shoulder. His head snaps to your touch, but still he refuses to face you.

“Are you… afraid of me?” He asked slowly.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, resting your cheek against his back.

“Never, of you,” you replied.

Suna places his hand on top of yours, pulling them apart so he could turn to face you.

“I thought you left,” you said, blushing as he holds your hand in his.

“I thought I did too,” he replied, brushing a finger against your cheek, still frowning at the claw the pressed against your skin, “Maybe I still should.”

You scoff, holding his hand against your cheek.

“Please, just kiss me already.”

Suna smiled, dipping his head down to your lips.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

A shock spreads throughout your body as you pull away from the supple lips of Suna Rintarou.

Your fingers reach up to trace the grooves in your lips, goosebumps dancing all along your skin as it soaks in the after effects of the sudden contact.

The keys to your apartment still hang from the key ring hooked on your fingers. The sound of cars driving past your building filter into the empty hallway as Suna stares at you dumbfounded.

Tears stain both of your cheeks.

“Did… you just?” Suna was afraid to ask.

Your head nods slowly, and you reach forward to caress the skin on his cheek.

He leans into your touch.

“It’s good to see you again,” you smile, and though you had just met the handsome boy in your English class just two weeks ago, he puts his hand on top of yours, and he knows.

“You, too,” Suna smiles back.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

a/n: prompt request for @cafeoikawa <33 sorry this got so long but the idea wouldn’t leave my head! I hope u like it <33

rbs v appreciated <333

[hotrobins]

touch me if you dare || jason todd

Summary: Jason and fem!reader starts a friends-with-benefits relationship after a dirty joke.

Content: Smut with a little fluff and innocence kink.

Word count: 1646

Half-hour had passed since Jason came back from Bruce's office and he was still rage trembling. He didn't want to say what they discussed, he just deep breathed while driving, his knuckles white.

You knew him since you started working in the Gotham Public Library two years ago, but the talking that led to this friendship was still pretty recent. Today you were going to an aquarium inauguration but when his father called and said that there were urgent matters to discuss, you insisted that he should go and you would wait in the car, so Jason changed the route to the Wayne's Building.

Clearly he regret that decision now, because he stormed from there without a word and drove you to your apartment in silence, only breaking the silence to apologize to you once. When you arrived tho, he didnt unlock the car doors.

There you were, wanting to help him calm down but not knowing how since he didnt want to open up, not knowing if its better just say good night as clue to remember him to let you go, or you should invite him in.

You looked at him at your side, one hand at the steering wheel, the other clenched in a fist on his tight. Jason's eyes were closed and you allowed yourself to admire him aside your worries about his emotional state.

Jason was beautiful in hard angles and undertones. In the first couple months in the library, you were still fresh with the thinking that readers were a solid type, and every day you were surprised to see a boy like him enter and spend the late afternoon with his nose in a book. Now, being his friend, you knew Jason were a bookworm, but looking at him still took your breath. In this moment specially, with his muscles compressed, the semblance hard and that big hand against a bigger tight, something right down your belly woke.

He let out a light chuckle and you looked up to his face, panicked.

"Liking the view?" He said with amusement. The right side of his mouth doing that thing and leaving a dimple to show.

You ignored the ask and focused on the desert street in front of you, for sure blushing a deep red. You still could feel his gaze on your body.

As the seconds passed, the atmosphere in the car began to change again, and you knew his playfull smile hadnt hit deep in his demeanor.

"There's something I can do?" You said on a low tone.

"May you give me a blowjob?" He blurted, releasing a deep laugh. "Never heard of a man with bad humor while having his dick sucked." He was trying to change the air between you two, too.

"Yeah, i wouldnt mind." You said at once without thinking, and Jason couldn't hold back another laugh, this time a real one.

You should feel glad that he found you funny, but in that moment you discovered you were serious. "What? To be honest, I wouldnt not only mind it, but would really delight myself with it." You said with the most sensual voice you could make, adjusting yourself in the seat to see him better.

Now he was serious too, his blue eyes with dilated pupils holding yours. You couldn't maintain the glase as his adam apple went down as he swallowed dry, putting a lock of hair behind your ear.

"So touch me if you dare, darling."

It was all it took. Without another moment pass he opened his belt and lowered his jeans enough for you too see he was already half hard. As you took his cook in your hand, you wondered if you looked too desesperate, but when he sighed immediately and leanead comfortably on the car seat allowing you to touch with him better, you forgot to care if he could feel it was the first time you ever did it.

You started slowly, pulping him up and down, learning the texture, touching some veins that pulsed lightly, seeing as his tip disappeared and appeared again a little more wet every time, slobbering your hand and then the rest of his cock. The view of it was driving you insane to taste it, so as you began to bend down Jason let out a quiet moan, feeling your hot breath so close to his tip but not on him yet. You looked up as gave it a tentative lick, and the way his eyelids fluttler before opening to look at you, god, you felt it.

You were right, Jason tasted more amazing than you have imagined, and soon you were not only licking the tip but were with all his dick inside your mouth, touching it as you could with your tongue as one of your hands rubbed the rest of him and the other massaged his balls. You couldn't get enough of feeling the taste of him and his moans, now less contained, only gave you more confidence to keep going.

The lack of pratical knowledge didn't troubled you anymore cause the way Jason where breathing hard only proved you were doing the thing right, even if it was in a slow pace.

"Fuck.." He said in surprise when you started playing with only his tip, circling it with your tongue.

His hips sometimes buckled up and you kissed his dick, putting it all in your mouth and letting it out with a pop, before giving special attention to the tip again.

"Enough with the tease darlin-" You went all way down again and tried to move your tongue, but it was too much and you gagged.

"Easy, easy.." He touched your cheek while you recovered your breath with your head leaning in his covered tight, your right hand never stoping the light caresses in his cock.

He was looking at you in a strange way and you desesperate needed to change the focus of his attention so you closed your fist firmly.

Jason moaned with eyes finally closing again, and you started once more your ministrations. The taste of him and the sensation of his hips bucking involuntary where too good for you and you moaned too, the vibration making him take part of your hair in his hand. You looked up to see a question in his half open blue eyes, the answer were another moan of you.

You started rubbing him vigorously while you sucked his tip, the hand on your hair not forcing you down but not letting you go either, and Jason's moans were becoming more frequent. He was close.

He loosed the grip on you reluctantly "I'm.. I'm going to.. You should.."

But you do not moved away, you put his dick all down your mouth until it touched your throat, and even if his cock didnt fit entirely, you tried. Your gag reflexes send him over the edge.

He come hard on you, throwing cum directly down your throat as his hips trembled. He could feel you trying to breathe and swallow his seed and control your gagling at same time and it made him want to fuck your mouth for real.

When you pulled off, you didn't think twice before licking his dick again, making sure that there wasn't any trace of his cum behind. Only then you got up and straightened yourself in the seat.

You didn't looked at him nor give him the chance to speak first, the realization of what happened coming hard.

"Look, I don't usually treat my male friends like this so don't judge me. Im not a slut, really, to be honest i have never done this before so.. And no, i retire what i said, there's not such thing as a slutty woman okay? We should do what we want without feeling guilty by society and-" Jason took your hand on his.

"Wait a moment." He said caressing your hand with his tumb. "You said you never did it before? Give head?"

You looked at him, there were not judgment, only curiosity and respect in Jason's face.

"I'm.. I shouldnt have said it but, yeah. If it wasnt obvious and you already knew, now you know." There was shame on your shoulders even if he wasnt being judgmental and seemed to have appreciated the moments before.

His eyes never left yours as he thought in silence, the atmosphere between you changing again.

"I never kissed either so it's not a big deal i gave you head because you joke about it, we should forget it.. Can you please unlock the door now?"

He put his hand on your waist to stop you from reach the panel, you had to look on his face, now just centimeters from yours. His breath were a mix of something and spearmint.

"You don't think I should claim your first kiss too? I mean.." His voice were low, controlled.

"I just.. your.. you know.."

"Yeah, i know darling. I want to taste it on you."

You closed your eyes and it was his clue. He closed the space between you two, using the hand on your waist to put your body closer. His lips were soft and his posture controlled, but you could feel how he was trying not to push your limits, how his tongue wanted enter your mouth and call it his. You were breathless, you didn't though it would be like this. So much with so little. Your heart pounded and when you opened your eyes and you saw you had leanead on his chest, both hands on his strong shoulders.

He had a half smile in his lips, the dimple a moment to show in its glory.

"It's starting to rain Jason." You managed to say.

"Yeah, and I'm only starting to kiss you for tonight.." He bended in your direction again, never taking his eyes from your lips.

[equestrianwritingsstuff]

Drowning is amazing! Please continue!!!

Thank you! I am glad that you like it!

And I wrote it. It's a late post though, sorry.

Drowning Part 4

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

@shydragonrider

Warnings: feverish whumpee, drugged whumpee, head trauma mention, pneumonia, pills (antibiotics), exhaustion, betrayal, talk of medical settings, mentions of attempted murder, anxiety, thoughts of anticipated retribution, nightmares

~

Hero scrambled to her feet, nervousness eating at her stomach. There was Villain, standing six feet tall and raging with anger, in her doorway. Not only did he look like he just went on a killing frenzy, he had a knife.

A knife and a true intent to kill.

"Villain," Hero cautioned, approaching the tall man. He glared, snarling down at Hero.

"I know you have him, Hero," he said, not even acknowledging Hero's quiet plea to step down. "Now, where is he before I bomb the place."

Hero noted that he still had a hospital gown on. His right forearm had blood dripping down it- the remnants of where he had ripped the IV out. The side of his head was still stitched up and hued in a deep royal purple shade. His damaged right eye was swollen, but not nearly as bruised as his temple.

"Where is he!" Villain hollered again and rushed at Hero. He stumbled a little bit and swayed as if a dense feeling of nausea washed over him- and considering the state of the villain's head, she wouldn't be surprised if he was indeed nauseous.

"He isn't here," Hero lied, but it was obvious that she didn't mean it.

"I know you took him home with you," Villain clenched his jaw, the bruise pulsating. "Why else wouldn't you visit me earlier?"

"Villain, I did visit you earlier," Hero tried to reason. "Remember?"

"No, no, no," Villain shook his head. "Only doctors and needles and fogginess and..." His voice trailed off ad his gaze darkened. "Not you."

"I'm sorry," Hero apologized, grabbing the villain's hands. She felt the knife loosening, but Villain didn't let go. Both breathed deeply, trying to calm themselves. Hero couldn't afford to get protective- if that was the correct word- and if Villain blew up again, by golly she would be.

But, the villain was obviously on another page. He suddenly punched Hero in the stomach, jabbed her jaw with the hilt, and lumbered into the house.

Hero doubled over, panting for breath as she tried to reorientate herself. After a good minute of puffing out breaths, she followed Villain.

She found him slamming his hip into her bedroom room. Instinctively, Hero lept on top of him, pulling him back. Thoughts rushed through her head. She had no means of restraints other than a pair of handcuffs in the bathroom cabinet- don't ask. She didn't even have a good enough room to lock such an explosive person in.

She had to take the handcuff route and somehow lead the maniac into the bathroom. Linking her arms around Villain's armpits, she attempted to drag the thrashing man down the hall, but, half-drugged and injured or not, he was still much taller and much bigger. He dug his heels deep into the hardwood floor and grit his teeth. He was going to kill Supervillain if it was the last thing he would do, and nothing, not even someone like Hero would stop him.

He yanked himself out of Hero's grasp and face planted into a wall, knocking down a sunset painting that Hero herself did. He weakly tried to use his arms to push himself back up, but they trembled and collapsed under his weight.

Hero returned her arms back to the position that caused Villain so much strife and dragged him. The villain had clearly exhausted himself to the point of compliance, so it really was an effortless task. She brought him to the bathroom, leaned his now lolling head against the baby blue wall and grabbed her horribly placed handcuffs. Putting them on deftly, she crouched down next to Villain.

"You are supposed to be in the hospital, you know," she lightly scolded him.

"I know," came the reply, so timid that Hero couldn't even correspond the rabid wolf that entered her den with the completely subdued fawn resting in her bathroom. His eyes were closing, too weary to stay open.

"Let's go get some sleep," Hero offered and pulled Villain to his shaky feet. But as she led him to the door, she noticed that he would not be able to make it to the living room without collapsing, so she scooped him up. Now that he was just hanging there limply, it was easy- there wasn't a fight, just complete and utter trust to allow the other to care for the wounded and exhausted one.

Once Villain was settled upon the couch, sleeping soundly, Hero went back upstairs to check on Supervillain. Unlocking the door with the key that worked for every lock, she pushed the door open and walked inside.

Hero scrunched up her nose. After spending sometime in fresh, lavender scented air, the revolting scent of sickness and sweat was like a trash can that had to be taken out to the curb.

But nonetheless, she walked over to the unconscious supervillain. His face was even paler, signifying that his fever spiked again, and he was shivering profoundly. She tossed another blanket over him and performed the hourly task of slipping the thermometer under his tongue. It beeped and like everytime, it revealed a nerve-wracking temperature.

Hero ran her hand through the grimey hair with a sigh and knelt down next to him. He was getting worse. Heck, he hardly looked like he was breathing, yet the consistent rise and collapse of his chest proved otherwise. Silent whimpers slipped through barely parted lips, a little trail of saliva streamed over parched lips. Eyes were closed, but barely. Hero could see distressed pupils shifting about as placid facial expressions contorted into ones of utter misery and pain.

"Hey," Hero whispered, grabbing his boiling hand. It didn't nothing to stop the unconscious torture Supervillain was enduring. His breaths sped up and he started to outwardly gasp, but never awoke.

"Supervillain?" Hero's voice was risen in pitch. "Hey, now. Wake up for me." She shook him, tapped repeatedly at his flushed cheeks, but nothing seemed to work.

Until he bolted up screaming.

No. Screaming was not the correct word for the desperate screech that tore itself away from Supervillain's face. It filled every crevice of the room- possibly even the house- with the haggard voice of terror. It made Hero cringe, her tired body jumping backwards. After the screaming festival was over with, Supervillain resumed a crying sound. Sobs turned into coughs as the sick man dealt with both illness from the pneumonia and whatever fear drove him into such a defensive fright.

Hero wrapped her arm around Supervillain, lethargically seating herself next to him. He turned his body over and pressed his face into Hero's side, relishing in the warming comfort it brought with a contented sigh. Soon after, he fell back asleep, mouth parting to draw in more precious oxygen.

Hero leaned against the pillow, allowing her ward to sleep cuddled up to her. Her own eyelids drooped, reminding her of the dire need to sleep. She contemplated sleeping next to the supervillain, but once Villain awoke it would be a catastrophe. Yet, the instinctual pull towards the awaiting slumber was too hard to resist. Hero scooted down into a more comfortable position, pulled Supervillain onto her chest and fell asleep next to him.

It was sometime before she felt something move beside her. Hero blearily opened her eyes- still heavy with left over sleep- to find Supervillain awake, still hugging her, but staring at something by the foot of the bed. At first Hero brushed it off as another feverish hallucination, but then she saw a shadow move.

Her eyes opening all the way, Hero's head darted to where her other unplanned guest was leisurely standing, using his knife to pick at his nails. Didn't she remove that toy from him?

"What did I say?" Villain asked, pressing his palms into the bedrail. "I say: you are housing Supervillain. No, she replies, blushing the entire time. And then what do I find? The criminal mastermind himself sleeping over the little princess with the tiara. Figures." Villain rolled his eyes, or his eye because the other was still sealed shut by the purple tarp that obscured the machine of sight from the world.

"I-i couldn't just leave him."

"He tried to kill you."

Supervillain whimpered, cowering deeper into bed as Villain's blantant mention of the past triggered his anxiety. Hero would surely get back at him once he was healed. She was just waiting so that she could redo the damage already done to his lungs. Make him suffer the agony he was experiencing. Supervillain let out a quiet sob and squeezed his eyes shut.

As complex as these thoughts seemed, the thinking of them only took a moment because soon, Hero was replying to Villain's accusation.

"And you tried to kill him," she retorted. "Twice. I stopped you both times."

"And knocked me out and hospitalized me in the process. Hero, we are the victims here. Not him," Villain shot a pointed glare at the scared supervillain with a sneer.

"You gave him pneumonia! He can die!"

"Okay, okay. One, I could've died from head trauma. Two, if he was going to die, take him to a freaking hospital. And three, you helped push him into the tank. Remember that."

The memory swarmed Hero like bees- the reminder of her own grave mistake making her feel a rush of guilt.

"I shouldn't have done that and I can't take him to the hospital or he will be arrested."

"I could've been arrested."

"Not everything's about you!"

Villain was silent, chewing at his bottom lip. "This isn't a decision of intellect, darling, housing him does not justify yours or mine or his actions. Not to mention how much you are going regret this," he pointed out, flinging the knife in his hands carefully.

"Why would I regret this. I am-"

"The Hero Agnecy dear. Did you think that your little medic friend thought it was normal for you to call my injuries in? Or are you that naive?"

Hero was silent, stunned into utter silence, but Villain's words. Medic never came. She never came to help Hero, but that didn't mean that she reported Hero's possible betrayal of the agency. It didn't mean...

She never came.

And Hero brought Villain to the hospital. That was all the proof needed for the Agency to put her on a watchlist.

"You need to go back!" Hero suddenly exclaimed, jostling Supervillain who was just about to doze off again.

"To where? The mangy excuse for a hospital?" Villain snorted. "Heck no." He chuckled. "They will put me back under with restraints this time. The chances of escape will go from 95.6% to zero in a matter of seconds. Its suicidal, not to mention probably stupid beyond reason."

"They are gonna think I busted you out..." Hero's voice trailed off when she saw Villain raise his eyebrow mockingly.

"Not everything is about you," he mimicked in perfect representation of Hero's prior exclamation that could've once been described as an arguement's winning statement.

"Shut up."

Suddenly, Supervillain started hacking, but this time around not only mucus left his lungs, but blood in the color of the deepest crimson.

"Hmm," Villain stayed silent for moment, brow ceasing. Hero thought she could literally see the gears clicking and turning in his head.

"You could be right," Villain agreed. "Going back would be beneficial. Especially for me." He grinned wickedly.

"How?"

"Well... Supervillain needs medicine and care, antibiotics to kick this pneumonia," Villain started to pace. "I could go back and gather some. Tell the docs that I escaped on my own... but for a price."

Hero got a sense of Rumpelstiltskin's classic, "all the magic comes with a price" speech with the twirl of his scaly pointer finger, from the series Once Upon a Time.

"Name it."

"All of my criminal charges are dropped, meaning I get to leave that hospital when I deem ready. Not when the stupid heroes decide that I am redeemed enough."

Well, uh, that... Hero shook her head. She never thought of it, but antibiotics were needed to make Supervillain better. She had to go through with it.

"Second," Villain counted off with his fingers as he threw sarcastically intended smirks. "I get a new motorcycle. Your boyfriend trashed it."

"He's not-" Hero stopped when she saw Villain raise an eyebrow.

"Shush, honey. Lemme talk," He drawled. "I will bring you the antibiotics if you swear you will heed my requests."

All sense of caution and foreboding were lost as Hero rummaged her thoughts over the promise. Supervillain's health for two simple things. It was easy enough.

"Deal," she said, nearly involuntary, but that wasn't entirely accurate because she indeed wanted this.

Villain smirk, running his tongue over his lips as he bounded over to shake Hero's hand. The second the two's flesh met meant that the deal was struck. Hero couldn't back away, nor could Villain.

Hero was in the kitchen tenderly feeding Supervillain some soup and prompting him to drink some gatorade when Villain returned triumphantly with a large red bottle.

"Sweet!" Hero exclaimed and grabbed the much needed tuberware. She opened it and admired the pills inside.

"One twice a day," Villain instructed, sitting down in the empty chair next to Hero. His eyes glinted with excited anticipation, narrowing slightly at the edges at the way Hero regarded the antibiotics.

She then took one and opened Supervillain's jaw. He didn't even attempt to resist and compliantly allowed her to maneuver his mouth around. Even though swallowing the hefty pill was an ordeal in itself, he managed.

Hero, seemingly satisfied, picked him up and carried him to the living room to nap on the couch. Villain followed behind her, shooting glances at his phone every few seconds.

Hero propped him against her shoulder and flicked on the television. A comedy show was on. Supervillain glanced up at it before digging his head into Hero's shoulders, completely disinterested.

Supervillain was asleep, Hero was resting with a relaxed look of tranquility on her face, and Villain was draped across an armchair completely absorbed in his phone and periodically looking out the window when the door made a knocking noise.

Hero tensed, and looked at Villain who had stood up.

"Wait here," he said, but there was no ounce of anticipation in his voice. Hero furrowed her forehead. There was even a hint of buoyancy in his typical monotone voice. Even though he usually spoke in a sarcastic air, he always seemed to drawl.

But this was different. Abnormal. Eerie. And a bit- if not very- concerning.

Hero stood up, leaning Supervillain against the armrest and pressed her ear to the recently shut door.

It was Villain who was speaking, that monotone that would stand out anywhere.

"I have them," he said. "I have them both."

Hero's heart dropped when she heard the click of guns.

[noocturnalchild]

BLIND

One shot for our favorire detective Flip Zimmerman x reader ! 

Warning : Smut , NSFW, Sub!reader 

********************************************

“Hey you”

He threw his keys and cigarette packet on the table and clicked his boots towards you, as you busied yourself in his kitchen. He lifted the pot’s cover and inhaled the scent of the stew you were making. It was really not much. He said nothing, as was his habit, but you could tell from his nostrils flaring and the tiny smile that graced his lips that he was content.

“Hey” you shyly replied.

You liked him coming home to you putting yourself to use. It was the least you could do.

A couple months ago, Flip fished you out from a pretty shitty situation and shittier life you didn’t want to recall anymore. He offered you to stay with him till you figured your life out and you accepted, right away. Mere months that seemed like eons ago, and you were more than grateful for him, for that big sassy grump, cladded in his eternal plaid flannels.

“Bedroom is off limits” he said the first time you set foot in his house, with a serious look and a more serious tone, and you just nodded, apprehensive, but then he compensated, made sure you were more than comfortable in the guest room that became yours,  bought you new curtains, put in the trash the old gloomy pieces and replaced them with light and pretty ones, made sure to fix them himself. You thanked him more than necessary that day, and he just hummed.

Flip was bossy and secretive as fuck, always chain-smoking, everywhere, outside, in his pick-up, inside the house, his living room, the kitchen, his bedroom, everywhere, chewing on the stick of a cigarette and frowning at some documents that he always kept away from your curious glances.

“Go play away, girl” he would say, frowning even more as you pouted, just to smile when you turned your back to him, doing just what he asked, playing away.

You liked to keep his house tidy. He had little furniture, just the functional stuff, but you managed to insert, here and there, glasses full of flowers you picked up on the sidewalks, arranging them in what you thought were pretty bouquets and putting them in his large glasses, displaying them in the kitchen and the living room. He never commented, eyeing the things and walking around, frowning at his documents and cigarettes.

His place was warmer since you got to stay with him, he came to a nice dinner every night and the house smelled better, he noticed it all, but refrained from saying shit about it, ignoring the good changes, afraid of getting used to them just to lose it all in the coming months. He knew you were temporary here, and he hated to think about the day you were going to announce that you’d found a decent job that would allow you to pay rent and live by your own means. He actually dreaded the whole thing, mildly panicking every time he saw you, leaning over some newspaper, circling the job announcements you found interesting, just to breathe out of relief every time you came home disgusted, bitching about how awful the boss was or the dirty places you went to or just something. He would cheer you up halfheartedly and go out smoking.

“Well, there’s always tomorrows y/n”

And you always smiled at that.

As big a man as he was, He still wasn’t comfortable around you, when you slid closer to him, you both on the couch, casually watching the baseball games on Saturday nights. Or when he bumped into you in the bathroom, in your sleep clothes, and tried not to stare too long at your tits, obviously free from any constraints under those thin sleep shirts you liked to wear.

Sometimes he felt sick of himself, thinking of you in ways he shouldn’t, so he just kept keeping his distances, closing himself off, as you kept being good to him, always cheerful and happy around him, like a bee, his little bee.

Often, he came home very late, tired, exhausted. He let himself black out on the couch and when you woke up, late at night, to drink some water or go to the bathroom and you saw him all crumpled on himself on the couch, you made sure to take off his boots and cover him carefully. That, he knew. You also tucked away rebel hair strands off his eyes and watched him snore for a while, and smiled to the rare peaceful face he made when asleep, and of course, this, he would never know.

You knew he worked hard, you knew that he was like he was because of it. All the horror of crimes, all sort of wicked fuckers he dealt with everyday, the interrogatories, the stress, the anger and the nerves of his fucking job, the guns and the hematomas on dead corpses. Photographs, hundreds of them between his folders, hours and days of collecting evidence and sometimes pursuing false tracks, and you would expect him to come home to you with a fucking smile plastered on his face? Of course not, and if you were there, you better make yourself useful and alleviate some of this burden, and not expect a single thank you in return.

*

That night too, Flip came in late, very late, and collapsed on his couch, boots and jacket on. You watched him as he started snoring right away, brows pinched together, even in his sleep. It had been an exceptionally rough day, you concluded, and smiled to him nonetheless. You reached to free him of his leather boots, and he sighed in his slumber, burying his face under his arm. He was obviously uncomfortable, and instead of covering him as was your habit, you decided to push your luck a bit.

“Flip”

You whispered, close to his face, and his eyelids fluttered, selling him out. You smiled.

He ignored you but you were determined.

“Flip?” you shook his shoulder a bit and he grumbled “Come on please, go to sleep, let me take this jacket off you at least, you will be hot and bothered with it on all night” you continued, always whispering as he groaned low, tucking  his face further into his sleeves and you laughed this time.

Emboldened, you grabbed his hand and pushed him up, and it startled him, your bold move; his eyes widened, challenging you to push further.

“Don’t push your luck with me, feather weight!” he threatened you, fully awake now. But you just laughed and you saw him hide an amused smile. It was a game then.

You pushed again, two hands pulling on one big warm paw. His hand was so big, why was it so big?

“Come on Flip, please just this time” you whined, as he closed his eyes again, fully conscious.

“Please” you sang, “ it’s for your own good, you know”.

No reaction.

“I want you to have a good sleep tonight, Flip, come on” you said, softer, and he blinked, slowly opening his eyes, and this time he let you drag him off the couch. He shrugged off his jacket in one swift movement, then, docile, he let you guide him to his bedroom. It was suddenly too quiet, him just looking at you as you walked backward, hand always in his much bigger one.

You knew that his bedroom was sacred territory, but he didn’t say a thing when you didn’t stop at his door and continued to walk backward to his bed. He kept his eyes locked on yours, intense brown pupils daring you to stop, or not to. You decided to act on your instincts and kept going, holding your breath. He finally sat on the edge of his bed, and before you thought of letting go of his hand and stop the dangerous game you were both playing, he threw his big body backward, taking you down with him with little effort, making you both bounce on his mattress.  

You stayed like that for seconds, you on top of him, laid there, not daring breathe or move or speak.

Fast heartbeats and ragged breaths filled the quiet 3 am night. You didn’t move off him, you didn’t scream or run away, no, you didn’t push him away when he slowly put his arms around you, pressed you up a bit, tightly against him so your face was leveled with his. He looked at you with heavy lidded eyes, searching for something in yours, and he found it.

“Didn’t I say, bedroom. is. off. limits?” he shook you a little with each word and something in you ignited, at the deep low rumble he used to talk to you, at the veiled half threat, half promise of it.

“I… I’m sorry” you barely breathed, lips dangerously close to his, and he smirked.

“That’s it. You’re a good girl, you know that?” he whispered, nudging your nose, close, closer, too close.

Your heart wasn’t the only part of you that fluttered at his words, as you felt warmth spreading through your veins, and your body vibrated against his. He smirked again, pressing his lips to yours in a sweet and sleepy kiss. You let him, closed your eyes, then kissed him back, tentative little licks at his lips, he hummed a little and you responded with a moan.

“Hungry?” he asked. You couldn’t but nod, already feeling desire overwhelming you, wanting him to talk to you again in that tone of his, but it was his fingers that started to toy with your shirt instead. Your hands responded, rubbing and pulling on his flannel, and his muscles tensed as your lips caught fire, licking and biting and sucking at his, stopping only to catch your breath.

“Fierce little thing” he panted, reaching for your ass, patting it through the light shorts you were wearing just to pinch it hard, big hands splayed on both cheeks, squeezing hungrily as you moaned against his neck again, breath hot, burning his already excited skin.

“Flip …please”

Your hands reached for his flannel buttons, trembling fingers trying to get rid of the fucking fabric that stood in your way but he yanked your hand off and glared.

“You think you can spoil my rest, come to my room and do as you please, and get away with it like that?”

You hiccupped, frustration and hunger coiling in your stomach, pulsing in your core… This man, his voice, his tone, the look in his eyes, glistening in the dark.

“I’m sorry… please… Flip, let me” you begged, shameless, hips starting to grind against his and he groaned.

“Little bee” he puffed and rolled you on your back, looked at you as his hand reached to both your wrists trapping them up behind your head.

“Lights on, wanna see you” he let go of one hand, let you reach for the night stand, fiddle with the switch of his night-light until you managed to get it right. Dim light spread across the room, making your eyes squint a bit as he took you in, sucking on his lips when his eyes fell on your obvious hard nipples under your see-through night tee.

“See, much better. You look beautiful”

You blushed at the sudden soft tone, at the look of complete awe mixed with hunger he gave you.

“Flip.. I… I wanted this…you for so long”

“I know, doll, ain’t blind”

He dived into you, without restraint, mouth squeezing your perked buds through the thin fabric. He sucked at them, moaned into them, wetted the material, rolled his tongue, using teeth and spit as you arched your back, pushed your tits into his hot mouth, moaned high, hands both trapped in one big fist.

God, he was so hard, hard the minute he took you to bed with him. You were doing this to him, taking him out of his mind, out of his life, out of his shitty work, his shitty problems, and all the ugly things, all at once, making him feel good, so good, out of his mind.

“I thought you were…” you said when he let you catch your breath, and you bit your lip at the nerve of it.

He gave you a confused look.

“Blind” you breathed.

And his eyes turned sad and thoughtful, and he kissed your neck, slow and aching.

“Nah…” he sucked at your pulsing spot.

“I knew” another kiss.

“I know it all” another lick “want it all” a moan.

“with you”

Your body was just one tense chord, pleasure striking you, hot white heat between your thighs.

“I want you to keep doing all the pretty little things you do… those things you do for me , ya know, your little flowers and your pretty smiles, hum?”

He cupped your chin, looking at you tenderly, making you smile again, eyes fogged with happy tears as you nodded .

“Let me take these off then” you whispered, eyeing his clothes. God, he was still fully clothed, you couldn’t take it anymore.

He kissed you again, tongue battling with yours as he freed your hands that went tangling in his silky hair immediately, tousling his dark locks. You hummed in satisfaction but found little relief, so your hands fled to his flannel again, tugging it off, pulling angrily at his undershirt, sending it to the floor, not losing a second as your fingers began to unzip his jeans, freeing him of the heavy fabric before taking him in, heavy short breaths escaping your parted lips. You could swear you were drooling, as you flattened your palm on the hard planes of his abdomen, feeling the tremors and the heat of his belly, before traveling to his crotch, sensing his hot heavy cock as it pulsed with need, and you both closed your eyes for a second, reveling in the moment.

He hissed when you experimentally started to stroke him through his boxers, hazy eyes focused on your task as you sat on your knees. You pressed kisses to his stomach, flickered your tongue on his belly button, licking there, hand always working on his length, caressing his balls ghostly as he tried to control his breath, fisted your hair, played with it in his big strong hands, scratched your scalp gently, seeking your attention.

“Phillip…”

“It’s a risky game you playing down there, little bee, isn’t it?”

It was the first time you used his name like that, and you looked up, just to be met with the silver glint of a thin chain around his neck that caught your eyes. Small pretty six branch silver star decorated it.

You’d never seen him wear it, you’d never noticed it, tucked away under his shirts. It was just normal; you’d never seen him without a shirt before tonight, big shy grump that he was.

You couldn’t resist as you jumped up in his arms, pecking at his chain on his skin, peppering small kisses around it, pulling with your teeth on the silver thing, it took his breath away.

“You want me that much?” he let out a hoarse laugh, his hands were everywhere.

“Yeah… yes… I do” you buried your mouth in his chest, sucking at his nipple. Sloppy and wet.

“You don’t know what you doing to me, drooling over me like that” he panted, and his fingers wandered south, seeking your heat through your night shorts. You were embarrassingly wet, and you gasped and whined when he brushed your clit through the fabric.

“Be good to me, lay on your back”, he commanded and you obliged. You reached for your sticky tee to pull it off but he stopped you, hunched it up just under your breasts, and fisted it with one strong hand.

“No. This stays.”

He slapped one breast, making both joggle. You hiccupped again, arched your back. Round dark stains formed on the fabric around your tits, wet from his spit and your sweat and he seemed so satisfied of his doing.

With one swift movement, he yanked your shorts down with your panties, exposing your wet pussy to his prying eyes.

“Spread those pretty legs baby, let me see”

And you did.

“How do you want me?” You smiled to him, dizzy.

“Like that” he glared, ogling you.

And he splayed two fingers down your wet slit, massaging your entrance, pinching at your sensitive pink folds, rolling your clit, toying with it, making you quiver under his touch, whine and moan and drool on his sheets as your eyes rolled shut from the languid pleasure he was giving you.

His cock was painfully hard now, straining in his briefs, wanting relief. He pulled at your hand, brought it to his erection and guided it, slid it up and down. You teased his head, splaying your middle finger on the wet spot that pre cum formed on his slit, rubbing gentle circles that made him shudder.

“Fuck y/n, pull it off ..off.. fuck”

He was losing it, with the way you took his free cock in your small hand, the way you pumped it gently between your fingers, caressed the swollen veins, teased the head some more, cupped his balls, rolled them softly, moaned at just the sight of it… but god, when you sat back up and kissed it, parted those pretty lips of yours and gave it a loud kiss on the head, god, he felt it twitch, spasm, ready to burst.

“I swear to God y/n…” He barely breathed.

You smiled teasingly at him as you let yourself fall back on his pillows, and rolled your hips to remind him of his stilled fingers in your pussy. He decided to punish you a little and pushed two big fingers right in you, making you cry out. He didn’t let you recover as he started pumping them and curling them inside, in and out, fast, rough, punctuated by his ragged breaths and the slapping of skin as he fucked his cock into his fist, eyes glued to your pussy, to the sight of your hole greedily swallowing his fingers to the knuckles.

You reached for your stiff clit that needed attention, chasing an orgasm that started to creep in the pit of your belly, fire licking at your skin. He let you, spurred you on, praised you, and you moaned for him, moaned like a whore, like you never did in bed, with anyone.

“Go on baby, cum for me, cum for me here …let that tight pussy milk my fingers”

Your vision shattered, white pleasure shaking your limbs in erratic spasms as your hips jerked up and your head rolled back. He stilled his fingers, drenched in your cum, pressed them to your sweet spot, collecting some more before bringing them to his mouth, sucking them clean as he watched you coming down from your high.

You were so glad Flip was a natural secluded guy, choosing to live in a quiet sheltered place. You got only tall trees and crickets and squirrels as witnesses of your 3 am hot sex symphony.

“Good?” he asked and you nodded, catching your breath.

“Good. Now, doll, what is that you’re staring at?” he asked, voice deep, deep, as he played with his cock, teasing you.

“Your cock, sir. I’m staring at your cock” you purred.

Damn, you wanted to kill him?

“Let me hear that again” he said in his threatening tone, the one that made your insides melt again, begging for him.

“You cock, SIR.” you punctuated your last word, making his cock jump in his hand, and he squeezed the base, preventing himself from coming there and then as he decided to play with you a little longer, make you wait for it.

“Ahuh? Like what you see?” he tapped the head on your flushed pussy folds, started to gather your wetness, teasing you.

You squirmed “Yes, sir, I do”

“Want to take it?” he reached to one perked nipple, twisted it.

“Mghm.. Yeah” you pushed you hips into his cock, trying to get the tip in you, in vain. “Yeah, please, give it to me, I want your big cock, sir”. You were desperate.

“Want that fat cock?, huh, doll face?”

“Oh yeah, want it, need it, please put it in me” you mewled.

He didn’t need to hear more, grabbed your hips with two big hands, and pushed in. You both groaned from the intensity of it. The heat of it, the intimacy of it. You both reached for one another, wanting to take one another’s hand, knot your fingers together, connect, connect, connect.

“Fuck y/n… has been a while baby, you’re impossibly tight” he panted in your neck. He was impossibly thick and you were impossibly tight and it was heady, the feeling of his body flush against you, hands entwined, legs entangled, his scent invading your head, his facial hair tickling at your collarbone as he babbled, plush lips kissing every patch of skin available, lost in you, just as lost in you as you were lost in him… You whimpered and tried to push him further, deeper into you, angled your hips so your thighs were squeezing his, heels digging in his flesh, and he moved in and out of you, slow torturous motions, driving you both insane.

“Fuck Phillip, faster please…ah-“

He liked how his name sounded on your lips, and hell if he would deny you anything. He backed up a little bit and nudged his nose with yours, pressed his forehead to yours as you trapped your legs around his waist, giving him better access and you nodded.

He then started a faster rhythm, and you could hear your pussy making those obscene noises from it being fucked so good and fast and deep, balls slapping your ass, as his pubic hair scraped your clit, drowning you in pleasure and anticipation. Your nails scratched the back of his neck, your teeth nibbled at his earlobe.

He tracked your mouth and kissed you hard and rough, his silver chain batting at his chest as his hips went wild and your moans high, loud, vulgar. You didn’t care.

“Gonna fuck you so good baby doll, gonna fill you up so good, stretch that tight pussy so good” he breathed in your mouth, and you felt your second orgasm building so fast through your veins. God, you liked his cock, you liked how he moved his hips. He knew exactly what to do with you, he was one talented man, but his voice, it was just on another level, you could cum only from him talking to you like that.

“Please Phillip, just talk to me and I’ll cum”

“Ahuh? Really baby? God you killing me you know? You’re so good to me, look at yourself, taking my cock so nice, huh, Look at your pretty tits bouncing from taking my cock, pussy sucking cum outta that cock, fuck!” he rolled his hips in tight hard circles, and that was it. you spasmed under him, gasped in his mouth and he swallowed your cries in a searing kiss, as your pussy gushed around his cock, milked it, clenched around it.

“Did so good baby, yeah just like that”

He fucked you through your climax, so close now, knew it was coming, so fast and hard as his balls tightened. He pulled your legs up, hooked them on his shoulders, balanced his weight on his knees, and watched as his cock slid in and out your cunt, drenched in your cum and sweat.

He was so beautiful like that, you thought in your haze, face focused, those brows pinched together, again, but for completely different reasons this time. Locks of hair beating on his face, chain beating up his flushed chest, so beautiful as he pounded you, rammed into you, big hands manhandling you, so masculine and strong. Definition of sex.

His hips jerked, cock twitched in your pussy and he pulled out. He wanted you to see his load of cum as it burst out of his slit, jets of thick white ropes painting your belly and tits. His cock twitched and jolted again, leaking some more, until it was all over your body, hot and slick on your gleaming skin.

You splayed your fingers on your body, collected it and spread it some more on your skin, humming and buzzing in pure bliss as you watched your man recover from his high, staring at you, shaking his head in disbelief and amazement.

“Fuck baby that was… So hot” he huffed, incredulous, and you both laughed.

“Come here big man” you opened your arms for him and smiled, all teeth. He threw his big self on you, still laughing as you combed his hair with your fingers, and kissed him soft and sweet behind his ear.

“Can we go grab a bite now?” he asked after he took extra care cleaning you both up. He extended his hand, and you took it, beaming at him.

“You mean breakfast?”

“Don’t tell me…” Flip reached for his alarm clock , whistled long and incredulous when he saw the time. 5:45 am, no fucking way.

The first bird started its song outside, mocking him, and you laughed.

“What should I do with you now? keeping me awake all night huh?” He spanked your ass, playful as he grabbed for his first cigarette of the day and you rolled your eyes at him.

“Won’t be the last night, I tell you” You bit your lip as you took his hand, leading him to his kitchen.

“Ahuh, you smartass” but he smiled, kissed you again, knowing exactly that it wouldn’t.

[trashmenofmarvel]

Branded - Chapter 46

Pairing: Demon!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You try to find your way back.

(This is a fan AU of Falling’s Just Another Way to Fly by araniaart​ . Please check out this incredible series for all of your demon Bucky needs.)

Chapter Warnings: Angst, anxiety, mild body horror

AO3

You woke up coughing and gagging, pulling your jacket out from under your head to wrap it around your face. For there to be so much dust in the air, another dust storm must have kicked up outside.

Just as predicted, when you looked out one of the air holes of the cave system, you saw the wall of dust that cut off all sight after a few feet.

You sighed and sat back in the deepest part of the cave, making sure to keep the jacket wrapped around your head. It was much different being here as a physical entity instead of just living in someone’s head. You knew which one you preferred.

Still coughing frequently, you picked up a stone tool, no bigger than a piece of chalk, and added another tick to the rows of marks Bucky had started. Tenth day in the demon realm, with no sign of rescue.

It had been sheer luck that you’d woken up in a place with landmarks you actually recognized. You weren’t far from Bucky’s old territory, and after hours of walking barefoot through the sand, socks stuffed into your pockets, you made it to the cave system he’d used as a home base.

Seeing the same walls, the edible fungus, the dried “bamboo” strips as bedding, even the old journal Bucky had left behind, it had been the most relieving and the most painful thing you’d felt in a while. That was saying a lot, considering you’d been murdered just a few hours prior.

Your shelter and source of food and water secured, you’d done nothing but decompress, going over everything that had happened.

Bucky falling into Zemo’s trap. Forced to be a weapon once more and ordered to kill Rogers. He probably would have if you hadn’t managed to pull on the thin thread that had remained of your bond.

The irony wasn’t lost on you. The bond you’d both wanted to get rid of had been the thing to save Bucky’s life. The cursed book had been right; the only thing that could break your bond was Bucky’s death… or yours. It hadn’t said the death would result in you being banished to the demon realm, but it wasn’t like the damn book had been trying to be helpful to begin with.

No, if anything, the ancient sorcerer whose words it had quoted had been more insightful. Especially the part where he’d witnessed a human slave die in his master’s place, and his body had burned to ashes.

Is that what had happened to you? Had Bucky been forced to watch as you’d crumpled to dust in his hands? God, you hoped not.

At least it explained how you ended up here and that corpse you’d seen through Bucky’s eyes. A human with a demon sigil, it could only mean one thing. This was where all human slaves ended up, eventually.

You just hoped you wouldn’t meet the same fate.

Thoughts turned back to Bucky as they usually were, you couldn’t begin to imagine how Bucky was dealing with your death. All you could hope was that he realized it hadn’t been permanent, and that he would find a way to the demon realm without dying himself. Knowing him, Bucky would take that route if he had to.

But here it was, day ten, and you were beginning to have doubts. You knew time flowed differently here and you would have to be patient, but it was impossibly difficult. You just prayed you wouldn’t have to wait another fifty years. Unlike Bucky, you doubted you would remain ageless in this place.

Day ten became day eleven. And then twelve. And then you’d been in the demon realm for two weeks with no sign of Bucky or the wizards.

At day fifteen, you decided it was time to stop waiting, and time to start being proactive. If your rescuers couldn’t come to you, perhaps you could bring yourselves to them. You’d glimpsed the truth in Bucky’s memories after him coming through the portal. Your younger self had practically bragged about opening a portal, and you’d been ten years old.

Surely you could still do it, even if you didn’t remember how… and even though you’d never shown a spark of magic while training under Wong.

But what else was there to do? It wasn’t as if there was anyone else around to embarrass yourself in front of.

Only… that turned out not to be the case.

You had managed to create a spark in the air. It was orange and sputtered after a few seconds, but it was the most you’d ever accomplished before. After a few more hours, you got a glowing circle the size of a hula-hoop.

But it was the wrong color, orange and not blue, and the image you could see through it was just more red sand. You didn’t need to travel across the planet; you needed to get away from it.

Frustrated, you weren’t as aware of your surroundings as you should have been, and that was when the demon attacked. Drooling and growling, it charged at you from over the sands and chased you into the cave system. You recognized it from before; a large beast that looked like it was part-bear, part-bull, and it was pissed.

Terrified and without thought, you made a jerky circular motion just as the demon launched itself at you.

The portal fizzled to life and vanished just as quickly, and the bottom half of a demon body landed on top of you. It was still smoking from where the portal had sliced through it like a hot blade.

It was the first and last time you tried to make a portal.

The days continued to crawl by until a month had passed, or at least, the best you could guess as days and months when the sunlight never changed or faded.

Until it finally did. And that’s when things truly started to take a turn for the worst.

You’d managed to keep your spirits up by reading the journal Bucky had left behind, reliving the time you’d spent together in a weird, symbiotic partnership, but when the rare night came and shrouded everything in cold darkness, you didn’t even have Bucky’s words to comfort you. The jacket was no longer a breathing mask and went back on your shoulders, barely keeping the chill at bay.

Through the dim starlight that came through the overhead holes in the ceiling, you could see your breath fogging up before you. You huddled into a tighter ball, tried to keep your emotions in check, and eventually gave up. You turned your head and sobbed quietly into your arms, letting the despair and fear pour out of you like a flooded dam.

And still it grew colder. You couldn’t remember Bucky being this cold, but then again, he wasn’t fully human. Plus, even though you’d been an observer in his head, you’d been able to raise his body temperature and keep him warm.

Now, all you could do was shiver and stay huddled against the wall that still retained heat from the day. You didn’t want to think about what you’d do when it faded.

Somehow in the night, you’d managed to fall asleep, or maybe fall unconscious. When you stirred, something was… wrong. You shifted your arms and legs and your skin tingled oddly, goosebumps breaking out along your flesh as the sensations felt off, both muffled and heightened at the same time.

You opened your eyes and wished you hadn’t. Instead of the bare skin of your arms… they were covered with grey-blue fur. Smooth, short, and thick, like a cat’s.

The panicked sound you made wasn’t human, and that just made the panic worse. You scrambled across the cave floor and ran to the nearby underground stream. There would be enough light now that the sun had risen for you to see…

Horns.

The face staring back at you was barely your own. Thin fur covered your face entirely, your pupils were no longer round but narrowed into slits, and the horns. They curved from either side of your forehead, several inches in length and grey, like ashy bone.

That wasn’t the only oddity. You turned your head and gasped at the long, pointed ears sticking out from under your hair.

You looked like a strange mixture of part-human, part-demon, part-cat.

This can’t be real. I’m hallucinating. Exposed to the cold, this is just the effect of a dying mind.

Expect, it didn’t go away. Your shock continued to mount as you took stock of the rest of yourself. The same blue-grey fur covered every inch of you. When you flexed your fingers, sharp nails slide outward from the nailbed, strange but natural at the same time.

You weren’t completely cat-like. There were the horns, of course, but when you stretched and felt along the back of your neck, scaly ridges continued all the way down your spine to your—

You jumped when something moved inside your pant leg, and you earned yourself a flare of pain when you slapped it to discover it was a long, puffed up, furry tail.

You startled giggling. The giggling devolved into hysterical laughter, and when that faded, it turned into breathless crying.

Now you knew why you hadn’t frozen to death in the night.

Your curiosity as to what you had become waned along with the days. The anxiety and fear was gone too. Something important had slipped your mind, like a half-forgotten dream, but there was nothing to remember. You had your cave system, your food source, and your territory to defend. There was nothing else you could possibly want.

Even the scorching sunlight no longer bothered you and instead filled you with strength. Your fur protected you from the worse of the sandy wind, and a third eyelid, transparent and able to cover your eye, allowed you to see even in the worst of dust storms. And there was a power that seemed to sustain you, an energy from this place that kept you strong and brimming with a power you didn’t quite understand.

Your body was perfectly suited for this world, and after a while, you couldn’t remember a time when it’d been any different.

Sometimes, you had dreams. Confusing ones, because they were of both a man and a demon. You always woke from these with your chest aching and your vision blurred, but you blinked the moisture away and soon, those were also forgotten.

Most demons knew better than to encroach on your territory, and in turn, you left them to theirs. Any demons foolish enough to ignore your boundaries were easily chased away with your outstretched talons and ripping claws. Once, when a demon that stood twice your size and had the head of a skeletal horse (how did you know that word?) tried to push you out, you conjured a rope of fiery orange. Striking at the beast, you’d left a burn across its back, and it hadn’t returned since.

You were comfortable in your solitude. Barring the strange dreams and the moments when you would wake up, confused into believing something was missing, you were content.

Until the day when a new, strange demon encroached on your territory. Worse than that, he’d wandered into your cave system. You were grooming yourself, tongue licking across the fur on your forearm, when you heard the telltale sounds of feet moving against the stone floor.

You hid in the shadows, eyes narrowed into slits as you waited. It didn’t take long for the intruder to walk directly into your cave, and you were taken aback at its appearance.

It—no, he, the demon was definitely masculine, with broad shoulders and prominent facial features. He seemed human, but the rest of him was not, with a demonic arm, wings, horns, and a tail.

He raised his head and flared his nostrils, testing the air at the same moment you caught a whiff of his scent. It was almost overpowering, heady and male, and your fur puffed up in response. This demon would try to take your home from you, and you wouldn’t allow it. You’d defeated bigger threats than him.

When he turned toward your makeshift nest and bent down to open the journal you no longer took interest in, you crept from your hidden nook. The demon was still crouched, his tail lying flat against the ground, but the tip flicked back and forth.

You drew closer, closer still, completely silent and pointed teeth bared. Bunching your muscles into a tight coil you leapt, claws outstretched.

The demon turned just before you landed.

He grabbed you around the throat, spun in one fluid motion, and slammed you against the cave wall.

You released a yowl and dug your claws into him, but they merely skidded off the shifting plates of his arm, leaving him unmarked.

Pinned with your back to the wall, you were trapped with his claws around your neck. The demon bared his teeth in his own impressive growl, inches from your face. His eyes were a cold sort of fury that made you doubt your chances of survival.

“Where is she!”

He spoke a language you somehow understood. The words had meaning, but you didn’t know what they were, so you remained silent.

When you didn’t answer he leaned forward, fangs sharp and ready to tear open your throat.

“You reek of her, and these are her clothes. Did you—did you kill her?”

You gave him nothing but a growl in your throat. When he squeezed tighter around your neck, you bared your teeth and snarled in hatred.

Just as quickly as it had arrived, his deadly glare vanished. He blinked rapidly, brows furrowed as if trying to put together a puzzle. And then his grip relaxed as something very different crossed over his face.

“No…”

He was distracted, his mind clearly elsewhere, and you wiggled out of his grip and tried to dart past him. The demon immediately seized you from behind, wrapping his arms tightly around you so you couldn’t escape.

You screamed and fought, your feet shoving against the ground for purchase, but with your arms pinned to your sides you couldn’t even conjure the fiery rope to defend yourself.

“Stop, stop, it’s me!” he cried. “It’s Bucky!”

His words were simply noise, and you swiveled your head to bite into his shoulder, this time making sure it was the fleshy one. But he still wouldn’t release you, even as the coppery taste of blood touched your tongue.

He gripped you tighter, and you let go of his shoulder and continued to struggle. He was much larger and stronger than you, and he didn’t move an inch. Instead, something soft touched your hair, and you realized it was one of his hands.

Gathering your strength for one last attempt, you twisted violently in his arms, pulled back your lips and sank your teeth into the junction between neck and shoulder, biting down. You were about to take out a chunk of his flesh when the concentrated aroma of his scent slammed into you.

You released him, licking the blood off your lips, and carefully sniffed higher up his neck. Something pulled at you, something familiar but lost, and you gave a curious lick just below his jawline.

Pine trees, earth, warm stone. He smelled like…

He smelled like…

Home.

You pulled back, staring in horror as blood continued to trickle down his neck.

You knew him. You knew him, how could you forget him, how could you forget—

You tried to say his name, but no words came out. You couldn’t speak. When had you lost the ability to talk?

When had you forgotten Bucky?

“Sweetheart?”

You whimpered at the cautious hope in his voice, at the pet name, at him being here.

Bucky wrapped his arms tighter around you, and you began to lick at the wound you’d caused, an apology and a way to prove he was real and you weren’t imagining this. To force yourself to remember everything you’d almost lost, even as the pain and grief grew worse every second.

Bucky had finally found you.

“I’m so, so sorry,” he apologized, voice choked with tears. “I came as soon as I could… I thought I was too late.”

But he was too late, wasn’t he?

You stopped mid-lick. Your tongue had done a decent job of cleaning his wound, because it wasn’t a human tongue anymore. It was dry and barbed, like a cat’s.

You buried your face into his shoulder, giving another miserable noise. How could you go back home now? You were a monster. A thing made of the demon realm. How could Bucky stand to even look at you, let alone touch you?

When you tried to pull away, he wouldn’t let you. Even his tail was stubbornly wound around your leg now.

“We’re going home,” he said, pulling back just enough to cup your face in his hands. You tried to jerk away, not wanting him to look at you, but he didn’t let you budge an inch. “We are going home.”

His image blurred as your eyes stung. How could he say that when you were… when you…

“It’s okay,” he said when the tears slipped down your furred cheeks. He brushed them away and pressed his lips against your forehead. You sighed and closed your eyes. “You’re okay. I’m not leaving you. This time, for good.”

You wanted to believe him, but how could you when you had the face of the very thing he hated about himself?

As if knowing your thoughts and afraid you would bolt, Bucky kept one arm firmly around your waist. He turned you toward the cave exit that would lead into the tunnels, but you resisted, pointing down to the nest when he looked at you.

Seeing what you were pointing at, a brief flash of fondness and pain crossed his face. He picked up the book, Bucky’s old journal that had documented his days and adventures with the “mysterious voice,” and you grabbed it and held it to your chest. You’d forgotten before, but now you remembered how this book had been your lifeline, and you couldn’t bear to leave it behind.

“Ready?” he asked, voice soft, eyes even softer.

You nodded, leaning into him when he tucked you against his side. Now that you remembered who he was, the thought of not touching him for even a second was unthinkable.

Bucky led you outside, and you spared a single glance backwards at the series of mounds, hills, and boulders that signified there was an underground cave system. It had saved your life, and before that, Bucky’s. It had been your temporary shelter, but it wasn’t where you belonged.

Spreading his wings, Bucky lifted you easily into his arms and leapt into the air. You curled protectively around the journal, but you felt safer now than you had since being captured by Zemo. As the hot, dry air ruffled your hair and fur, a deep rumbling came from inside your chest. It took you a moment to realize you were purring. Indicating he could hear it too, Bucky kissed the top of your head, making your purring even louder.

You kept your eyes closed and pressed to Bucky’s tactical vest until he said, “There it is.”

You turned to look, eyes widening at the sight of a shimmering blue portal near the ground. It looked tiny from this distance, and your stomach churned with nerves.

“Hold on!”

Taking Bucky’s advice, you gripped onto him tightly as he dived. Just before he went through, you shut your eyes tight.

The difference between the demon realm and Earth was a lot more extreme than you remembered filtered through Bucky’s memories. You immediately started shivering, buffeted by the cold air, taking shallow breaths because each one felt like you were breathing ice water.

The colors assaulted your vision—bluebluegreenblue—leaving you whimpering into Bucky’s shoulder, painful after you’d seen nothing but red for so long.

And the smells. No longer diluted with dry air constantly in motion, the salty and perfumed scent of multiple humans, of mildew and stone and ozone that made the tip of your tongue tingle—

It was too much. As soon as Bucky slightly relaxed his hold, you dropped the journal and scrambled behind him, hiding between his wings as you buried your face in the back of his neck.

It was toomuchtoomuchtoomuch—

“Sergeant Barnes, is that… who I think it is?”

The smooth, commanding voice was familiar, but you couldn’t place it. Unlike your recognition of Bucky, everything else was a struggle to recall. You didn’t even know where you were, the domed room unfamiliar and intimidating.

“Yes,” Bucky responded in a low tone.

“Ah, well, that is… unfortunate.” The man who had originally spoken cleared his throat. “We will need to do a thorough examination—“

You had peeked over Bucky’s shoulder to get a better look at the others in the room—they were wizards, weren’t they?—but as soon as one of them drew forward, you gave a spitting snarl.

“Or not,” the man said, raising his hands. He had a goatee and a ridiculous red cape. Your ruffled fur went flat against your skin. Was that… Strange? And next to him, concerned but not without pity, your mentor, Wong.

How could you have forgotten so much? How long had you been gone?

You hid behind Bucky’s shoulder blades, misery forcing your ears to fold back and curl your tail between your legs.

“I’m taking her home,” Bucky said quietly.

“But—“

“No,” he said, more firmly this time. “I’ve been where she is and I know what she needs. She needs to feel safe, somewhere quiet and familiar.”

He waited a beat.

“Are you going to stop me?”

“No.” Strange’s tone was weary but surprisingly relenting. “I’m not. Just make sure you take your next doses with you.”

“I know,” Bucky muttered and then bent down to pick up the journal you’d dropped.

He did it slowly and carefully so as not to dislodge you, because you still half-clung to his back like a lost duckling. It would have been funny if you weren’t already knee-deep in the urge to bolt. Your fur was puffed again, as far as it would go, heart hammering in your chest, and all of your senses were in overdrive as you struggled and failed to adjust to your new environment.

When Bucky straightened up again, you retreated into the sanctum of his folded wings and refused to let go. You couldn’t bear to look around, not when you could sense the wizard’s peering at you, at the freakish thing you’d become. Just the thought of it provoked a whine from your throat.

“One of you mind making a portal?” Bucky said dryly. “The sun’s still up and we’re obviously not taking a cab.”

You heard footsteps shuffling against the stones, and you clung tighter to Bucky. He reached back and put a hand on your leg, reassuring you he wasn’t leaving. Your trembling subsided slightly, but every muscle of your body was still taut enough to snap.

When he stepped forward, you went with him, keeping your eyes shut until you felt the familiar but unsettling shift of space as you stepped through a portal. Only when it fizzled out behind you and you caught the comforting scent of Bucky’s penthouse did you open your eyes.

You thought by “home” he would take you back to your room at the Sanctum. Instead, you were standing in the middle of Bucky’s loft.

Before Bucky could say or do anything, you buried your face in his jacket and released everything you’d kept buried, your soft keening echoing inside the old clock tower.

Next Chapter

[dontmindmyshadowhunting]

Welcome to Faerieland (Fan Fic) - Chapter 9 - The house in the hollow hill

This is Chapter 9 of “Welcome to Faerieland”, a sequel to my Kitty Fan Fic "To never being parted" although it can be read as a standalone story.

AO3 Link to the full story here.

****

“Livvy? Livvy, is that you? I should have guessed I would be the first one to join you.”

The girl - the one he had met in the weapons room, the one from the drawing - shivered in his arms. Ash tightened his embrace, shielding her as best as he could from the chill and the wind as they soared through the night sky. He flapped his wings harder and winced. It felt as though a thousand needles were piercing through them, but he couldn’t slow his pace. He needed to get her to safety and tend to her wounds. She didn’t have much time, the demon poison was spreading through the long gash in her leg. Already, she was hallucinating.

“Livvy.” She sighed and smiled. Her eyes were half-open, but they were blank as stones. “I have so much to tell you.”

Ash could now see a familiar landscape stretching ahead of them, up to the white sea cliffs and the hollow hill in which the golden cage he called home stood. It was risky to bring her there. Save for the usual cleaning and kitchen staff sworn to secrecy, there had never been anyone but him, J, and very occasionally his mother in this house since they had moved in three years ago. But he needed the potion to draw out the poison in her system.

“I am… I am not Livvy,” he whispered back.

She blinked but her blue-green eyes remained unfocused, their pupils fully dilated. Her gaze set upon his wings.

“Are you an angel?”

Ash swallowed the lump in his throat.

“If I were, it would be the fallen kind,” he replied grimly.

Her eyelids were heavy now. She was mumbling something but it no longer made sense. Just as he thought she would pass out again, she jolted back to consciousness. She was suddenly staring into his eyes, a look of recognition flashing across her face.

“Clary?” She said, startling him, before she blacked out, her body once again limp in his arms.

****

When Dru came to, she registered dimly that she was no longer flying but half lying, half sitting on a mattress - much softer than what she was used to at the Academy or even at the Institutes - and propped up against plush cushions. There was a funny taste in her mouth and she idly remembered having been forced to swallow a liquid. She no longer felt cold, and she realized that a silk blanket had been pulled over her.

Was that what the afterlife was about? An everlasting sleep in a comfortable bed? What a letdown.

When she blinked her eyes open, she was greeted by a beautiful sight. Her faerie prince was staring at her with his grass-green eyes, a lock of his tousled fair hair falling across his outrageously handsome face. He brushed it away with an impatient gesture, tucking it behind one of his pointy ears, and she noticed that his refined velvety clothes had been replaced by a plain long-sleeved black shirt.

“You,” she breathed. She narrowed her eyes. “I knew it! I knew you were too hot to be real!”

“Er- What?” His lips parted. He looked utterly dumbfounded.

Dru’s hands shot up and she started pinching his sharp cheekbones.

“What- what are you doing?” He tried to articulate, but she made it somewhat difficult, as she was squeezing his face and kneading his cheeks.

She could not help it. She giggled.

“Look at you. You are so… perfect. This is ridiculous.”

One of his blond eyebrows raised.

“So that’s the part where we kiss and there are fireworks and romantic music playing in the background?” Dru pursued.

She grabbed him by the collar, drawing him closer and his breath hitched. When their lips were so close they were almost touching… he turned his head away in a swift motion. She was left staring at his jawline - again, she marvelled at its sharpness - and noticed a wide X-shaped scar on his neck that had been hidden by his collar when she had first dreamt of him.

“What is it? I am not your type?” She said jokingly. Maybe her fantasies involved a bit of resistance to make things more fun.

He slowly turned to face her again. There was no trace of humour in his expression. His gaze was intense and serious.

“Not my type? On the contrary. You are exactly my type. You defined it, actually.” The sharpness and bitterness of his tone startled her. She swallowed.

“Then... why won’t you kiss me?”

“Because I don’t kiss girls who are under the influence of alcohol, drugs or - in this instance - demon poison.”

He started standing, but she grabbed him by the arm and almost cried out at the sudden throb in her right leg. She blinked and noticed for the first time that she had a long gash across her limb. The bleeding had stopped but it still looked awful. Several Iratzes had been drawn on her skin, near the wound. She remembered the searing pain she had felt as the demon’s claw had ripped across her flesh… It all came back to her then. The battle. Ty. Kit. Jaime.

“We need to go back! My brother and friends are still out there on the battlefield!” She clapped a hand over her mouth. “Raziel, how long have I been out?”

The faerie lifted his hands hesitantly to rest them awkwardly on her shoulders. He stroked lightly in a reassuring gesture, as his green eyes bore into her.

“The battle is over. King Kieran’s knights and the Wild Hunt swooped in, right after you were injured, and saved the day.”

She exhaled a sigh of relief as she fell back on the soft cushions. She felt dizzy.

“They are all alright.” A dark veil seemed to have covered her eyes. “I can’t-” I can’t see.

“Shhh. Stop talking. Spare your strength. Get some rest.”

It was suddenly all dark. An unbidden image came to her... black wings smeared with blood flapping furiously against the cold wind...

“You carried me… Your wings… you are hurt,” she said, before she fell back into unconsciousness.

****

Dru woke to a soft breeze tickling her skin. She immediately sat up, wincing at the pain in her right leg, and took in her surroundings.

She was in a vast high-ceilinged bedroom, illuminated by a soft light that spoke of dawn. The windows were equally huge, framed by velvet curtains.

Bookshelves were covering almost every inch of wall, and though they were entirely filled with books, there did not seem to be enough space for all of them.

More books were stacked in piles, others scattered haphazardly across the floor.

A latest generation laptop was resting on a large mahogany desk in the corner, as well as several tablets - what was the point of having so many? Dru wondered - video game consoles and controllers, a huge sound speaker in the shape of a silver skull and… more books.

The room harbored several collections of various items, weapons mainly, but also figures from comic books and fantasy novels. A real size shiny C-3PO seemed to serve as a valet stand, a black leather jacket comically wrapped around its shoulders.

The contrast was odd, as if an enthusiastic teenager had decided to set up his headquarters in the ballroom of a palace.

A pillow and a crumpled white blanket had been spread on the floor, next to the bed. They were tainted with smears of blood that could be traced on the thick carpet toward a half-open wooden door. Artificial light was pouring through the gap.

With strenuous efforts, Dru whirled her legs out of the bed. She blushed as she realized she was no longer wearing her dress - which had been torn and covered in ichor anyway - but in a plain black shirt. On her, it was long enough that it covered her thighs. She tried not to think too much about who must have dressed her and picked a long staff made of oak wood, probably a rokushakubō, that was resting against the wall. She used the weapon as a walking stick as she limped across the bedroom, looking out the windows as she passed them. All she could see in the dim light were large stretches of green grass. She was still in Faerie, she knew that much at least.

When she reached the half-open door, she peered around and... gasped.

It was a bathroom, much bigger than her own bedroom at the Academy, and to say it was luxurious would be an understatement. Everything was built in the most precious and refined material, even the taps looked like they were shaped from gold. The blond fey was seated at the edge of a huge circular bathtub with his back to her, only wearing boxer shorts. His pale skin was covered in Marks, some freshly inked, others faded, as well as battle scars. He was clutching large cotton pads and seemed to be struggling to clean the wounds on his black wings. Vials filled with different colours of liquid were scattered all over the marble floor as well as boxes of dried herbs. He whipped his head at the sound she made.

“I- I am sorry,” she said, feeling her cheeks flush at his nakedness.

“Sorry for what?” He replied, in his euphonious voice.

“I didn’t know you were…” She replied, waving her hand at him.

“Didn’t know I was what?” He looked puzzled.

“Naked!” She rolled her eyes.

He just stared at her for a few seconds before he let out a short back of laughter.

“I don’t mind,” he finally said and went back to tending his wounds.

Dru swallowed.

“Let me help you with that,” she said, as she slowly crossed the distance, and sat behind him. She picked a few bandages and started working on the cuts on his wings that were the least accessible to him.

They remained in companionable silence for a moment.

“You are a Shadowhunter,” she eventually said, breaking the stillness. “Why didn’t you tell me so when we met earlier?”

He shrugged. “You didn’t ask.”

“That’s not it. Your skin was covered in clothes. You are hiding it.”

He tensed. “So were you. I assume you had your reasons. I have mine.”

Okay… He had obviously decided to close the subject. And she didn’t want to pry. She redirected the conversation.

“About earlier… What I said…” She swallowed and blushed at the memory of her throwing herself at him. Ugh. How pathetic she had been.

“Did you speak earlier? I didn’t hear a thing,” he replied, casting a knowing glance at her over his shoulder, his lips suppressing a smile.

She exhaled.

“Thanks,” she said. “You know what, I do think you are beautiful. But so are Michelangelo’s sculptures. And you won’t catch me snogging them.”

He was still sitting with his back to her and she couldn’t see the expression on his face but he seemed to be smiling as he replied. “Message received.”

“So… is this where you live?”

“It is.”

“Alone?”

“No. It’s just me and my uncle J, though.”

She fell silent for a moment and he heard her unspoken question.

“I hardly see my mother. And my sorry excuse for a dad is dead. Good riddance.”

She flinched at that. She had noticed there was a darkness about him and wondered if it was linked to all the scars on his body or his evident hatred for his late father. Or both.

“I guess I never thanked you. For saving my life earlier.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“I am Drusilla, by the way. Drusilla Blackthorn. People call me Dru, though.”

He nodded, as if it confirmed something he already knew.

“I am Ash.”

“Ash…?”

“Just Ash.”

“Don’t you have a last name?”

He shrugged. “Does it matter?”

“What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.” She playfully quoted Shakespeare.

He chuckled, shaking his head.

“Your turn.” He suddenly stood and turned to face her, folding his wings. Dru realized that it brought her gaze right at the level of his… She swiftly turned her face away, blushing. When she glanced back at him, shyly, he was sitting seiza-style on the floor, in front of her. He gently lifted her right leg to rest it on his lap, a small smile playing across his face. She could not catch the look in his eyes, under his silvery eyelashes, as they were focused on inspecting her injury, but she was pretty sure he knew exactly what was going on in her head. He slowly brushed his long and deft fingers across her skin while his other hand cupped her calf, and she couldn't stop her leg from shaking. Holy crap. He had barely touched her and she was already a flushing mess, her breath now coming in short gasps. She was very much aware that her toes were nudging at the waistband of his boxer shorts and that if she brought her foot a few inches lower…

They both startled at the sound of a loud banging on the bedroom door.

“AAaaash,” uttered a man in a slurred speech through the wooden material. “You self-righteous b-bastard. Open the f-fucking door.”

The voice sounded familiar but Dru couldn’t pinpoint exactly where she had heard it before. It didn’t help that it belonged to a man who was obviously inebriated.

Ash cursed. He brought Dru’s leg down and put a finger over his lips.

“You. Are. Not. Here.” He mouthed to her, his green eyes suddenly deadly serious, all of the earlier playfulness gone from one moment to the next, and she almost cringed. He stood and swiftly exited the bathroom, closing the door behind him. She grabbed the staff and lifted herself up from the edge of the bathtub to get closer and hear the conversation.

“Asssh,” the voice repeated. “I know you are ho-home. You left a m-mess in the infirmary. Anything you wish to tell m-me? You got into a f-fight again?”

Dru heard the bedroom door open with a creaking noise.

“What about you, J? Went out for liquor again?” Ash’s voice replied sharply.

“Ash. I d-don’t tell you where to put your d-dick. You d-don’t get to tell me what goes into my m-mouth.”

“The fact that you just said that with a straight face is evidence that you had one too many, J.”

“F-Fuck you, Ash.”

“Hmm… I’ll take a rain check on that. Not that I don’t find you attractive, but you know I don’t screw drunk guys. Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

When she heard the door close behind them, Dru came out of the bathroom, in search of her phone, on the off chance it had survived the battle. There it was, resting on the nightstand, plugged in for battery charge. That was… thoughtful.

She grabbed it, swiped the screen open and tried to call Ty, but there was no service. Crap.

She rummaged through Ash’s drawers to pick a pair of shorts that she pulled on clumsily, and gathered a few weapons. She headed for the door, opened it and… ran straight into a pale white torso. Ash clutched her arms to steady her, then brought his lips against her ear. “Going somewhere?”

Dru jutted her chin out. “I need to find my brother. He will be worried sick.”

He didn’t move his mouth from her ear as he softly whispered. “You only need to ask.”

She stepped back to stare into his green eyes. His expression was unreadable.

“Okay,” she replied hesitantly. “Can we… go now?”

“Whatever you wish. Can I show you something first?”

She smiled at him. “Hmmm sure. I have to tell you though, I have four brothers, including one who has absolutely no issues with nudity. Trust me, I already know what it looks like.”

He laughed softly, shaking his head, and went to confiscate C-3PO’s black leather jacket. He put it on her shoulders. The sleeves were so long she had to roll them three times so her hands could peek out of them.

As Ash shrugged on his black shirt and black jeans, Dru cast a quick glance at his body. He had broad shoulders and was definitely muscular, as all Shadowhunters were, but not in a bulky way. His long and pale limbs emphasized his tall, overall narrow figure. He was like a spear, shooting up and deadly.

He caught her watching him, and gave her a lopsided smile. In turn, he allowed himself to look her up and down, but it was quick, efficient and not in the lazy, lingering, creepy way guys usually eyed her.

“You look good in my clothes,” he said finally. He came to stand in front of her, and gently grazed her cheek with his knuckles.

“Your skin is so translucent that it feels like a splash of red ink leaked from a pen underneath when you blush.”

She was pretty sure the red on her cheeks must have spread even farther, the colour brighter, and she did something she had never done in front of a man before. She looked down.

“Grab my neck,” he said, and she complied.

In a swift motion, he swept her off her feet and carried her in his arms like a damsel in distress.

He moved to the open window and… jumped out.

It was different now that she was fully conscious and aware of her surroundings. She let the wind blow through her hair, allowed herself to be overwhelmed by the surreal feeling of being suspended in the air without the fear of crashing to the ground.

She whooped in excitement, crying out “I am the queen of the wooooorld!” and he laughed.

They landed on a narrow patch of grass on top of a cliff. A nightmare for anyone who had vertigo, but Dru didn’t mind great heights.

They both sat at the edge, enjoying the landscape. It was absolutely breathtaking, an unobstructed view of Faeries lands, patches of dark forest, small lakes and plains of green grass extending farther than the eye could see.

Dru understood why Ash loved this spot. It looked like you could see everything while not being seen. It was a spot no one could access, unless well, they had wings…

“Look,” he said, pointing towards a chain of rocky mountains. The sun came out lazyly, spreading its first rays to scout the sky before making its glorious appearance and altering all the colours of the picturesque landscape from one moment to another.

Her breath hitched and she grabbed his hand reflexively.

He whipped his head around to look at her and she pulled it back immediately. “Sorry,” she mumbled.

“Don’t be,” he said gently. He cocked his head, a questioning look on his face. “Do you have a boyfriend, Drusilla Blackthorn?”

She smiled at his use of her full name. “I don’t.”

“A girlfriend, perhaps?”

“Nope. No boyfriend, no girlfriend.” She exhaled. “There is a guy, though…”

She looked up at him and he was staring back, his expression unreadable.

“I have had this crush on him since… Well, since forever. He seems to like me too, but he won’t act on it. I think he’s afraid of my brothers.”

He lifted his eyebrow. “He’s a bloody coward, then.”

She punched his arm. “Don’t say that! You don’t know him.”

He shrugged. “The question is… does he know you?”

She looked at him then, and was struck by the intensity of his gaze. There was a hidden message there, as if what he had really been asking was “Does he know you like I do?” But that could not be it, right? They had just met. It would be quite presumptuous of him.

“That’s not all. There is another reason, I think, and that’s why I haven’t made a move myself. I think… he is still figuring things out about himself...”

“Clearly,” Ash muttered.

“...And of course, there’s the issue of... my age.”

She waited for a change in his expression, a question, but he remained silent, his gaze steady.

“Aren’t you going to ask me how old I am?”

He shrugged. “Does it matter? Age doesn’t really mean anything in Faerie. I’d love to know your birthday, though. So I’ll know when to throw you the most decadent party you’ve ever been to.”

She let out a free, careless laugh. It was as if a weight had been lifted, that she didn’t even know had been there.

“What about you? Do you have a girlfriend or a boyfriend?”

He crossed his arms against his chest. “I don’t date. I screw around, though. A lot.”

“Why don’t you date?”

He shrugged. “I guess I have major trust issues. Oddly, it’s the only way I know how to get close to people I will never see again anyway. And of course…” He smiled crookedly. “I like sex. Don’t you?”

“I wouldn’t know.” She cleared her throat, rubbing her thighs nervously. “So... I am ready to go when you are.”

“Sure, your carriage awaits. Where to?”

“If possible… the New York Institute?”

He tensed. “Is this where you live?”

“Oh no, I was just there to attend a birthday party. I study at the Academy, so that’s where you can usually find me these days. My real home is the Los Angeles Institute, where my family lives.”

Ash didn’t say anything. He was watching her with a thoughtful expression. She looked down, at the frightening drop into emptiness.

“Is this the moment in the movie when the guy turns out to be a psychopath and leaves the wounded girl on top of a cliff and she is left to choose between jumping and starving to death?”

“You have a lot of imagination,” he said, his expression still musing. He grasped her chin to lift it slightly toward his face. “I rather thought it would be the moment in the movie where they kiss and there are fireworks and romantic music playing in the background.”

“Heeey! I thought you hadn’t heard anything !” She swatted at him and he grabbed her wrist in a motion so swift it was almost a blur.

“Heard what?” He said, and she didn’t reply, she couldn’t reply because the next moment he was kissing her, his incredibly soft lips hesitant at first, leaving her plenty of occasions to withdraw. She didn’t.

The kiss grew deeper and it was as if the ground was a rug that had been swept from under her, she was in a free fall, tethered to reality only by his gentle fingers holding her chin while his other hand moved to cup the back of her neck. He smelled like the best Faerie had to offer, all at once, rocks warmed by the sun and fresh grass, luscious petals twirling in the wind, a storm turning a gentle stream into a torrent.

They both jerked away at the sound of an ear-splitting noise.

Before them, a giant eagle was flapping its wings steadily, observing them through narrowed eyes. Josephine, Dru vaguely remembered. And it was not alone. Behind it, an even larger creature, that made the first look one like a fly in comparison, was hovering.

“Drusilla Blackthorn?” The smaller bird screeched.

“In the flesh.”

“I am Josephine. And this is my father Rocky. These are the names Tiberius Blackthorn blessed us with. Our real names cannot be spoken by your mere human tongues. Your brother is looking for you and we are to bring you to him. You can ride on my father’s back.”

“Wait, are these… rocs?” Ash said in awe, his green eyes glittering. “These are thousands of years old legendary birds of prey thought to be extinct. The most dangerous predators among birds. And your brother actually named one Rocky? How cool is that guy?”

“Where is Ty now?” Dru asked.

“He is with my mother, looking for you,” the bird answered. “But we are to meet him at the polyamorous cottage.”

Ash turned to look at her, amusement mixed with curiosity plain on his face. “The polyamorous cottage?” He mouthed.

She elbowed him playfully.

“Okay, let’s go,” she said with more confidence than she felt.

“Wait-” Ash shot an arm in front of her. “I am not sure how I feel about you riding on an unearthly predator.”

“What do you suggest?”

He pondered for a moment before giving her an answer, his expression clearly torn. He finally sighed, seeming to have come to a decision.

“Well… You can ride me,” he said, gesturing at himself and giving her a wicked grin. “And that’s not a one-time offer.”

She rolled her eyes but could not help to feel relief.

“Are you sure you are up for it ?”

“Are you kidding me? A private invitation to the polyamorous cottage? And of course, I can’t wait to meet your brother Tiberius. It will be fun.”

She threw her hands up. “Wow. Don’t get your hopes up. My brother is very difficult to befriend. I love him, but “fun” is definitely not the word I would use to describe him.”

Ash turned to look wistfully at the two giant creatures waiting in front of them. There was a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Well, he sounds pretty fun to me.”

****

Tagging @gabtapia and @bookeater34 ;)

[justcallmefox89]

Truth or Dare Part 6 - Diavolo’s Ending

Arianthi’s choices have the potential to shake up the House of Lamentation and the Devildom, but is she ready to accept everything Diavolo is offering her?  After an unexpected altercation Mammon is offered something he never expected.

Written from the perspective of my female OC Arianthi.

NSFW - penetrative sex, unprotected sex, impact play, rough sex

TWs - physical violence.

Mood Playlist: (I don’t know what it is about writing Diavolo that brings out the dramatics and my inner theater kid lol)

Jonathan Young - Beauty and the Beast (cover) Jonathan Young - All I Ask of You (cover) LP - The One That You Love Jeremy Jordan - It’s All Coming Back to Me Now Yohiro - My Nocturnal Serenade 

Mammon’s kiss is rough and insistent, I can feel my lips bruising beneath his.  I shake my head and try to wiggle out of his grip.  

“Mammon?  Mammon, stop!  We have to talk -”

“Mammon!”

“LET HER GO!”

I hear two voices cry out in unison; Lucifer’s measured, controlled tones and Diavolo, his voice deep with pain and something I’ve never heard before......rage. 

Mammon lets me go and we take a few steps away from each other, both of us breathing heavily.  I barely manage a glance at Mammon before I’m bodily picked up and my view of him is obstructed by four huge black wings and a bare, broad back.  I see the familiar markings and realize with a shock that Diavolo has shifted to his demon form. 

Oh my god.  He’s going to kill Mammon.

I hear footsteps behind me and realize the the rest of the demon brothers have come running, skidding to a stop behind me.  

“Arianthi?”  Asmo gasps.  

“What’s.....going....on?”  Levi asks, hands on his knees, sucking in deep breaths of air.

Satan peers around me at the trio in the kitchen, brow furrowed.  “We heard shouting.  Why are you here?  And why is-?

“Guys......bigger problems right now!”  Belphie interrupts Satan, raising a finger to point at Diavolo, who is slowly advancing on Mammon.

“How dare you touch her?”  Diavolo’s voice is low, thick with menace.  

Mammon glares back at him defiantly, still in demon form, refusing to give an inch as Diavolo stalks towards him.  

“Lucifer!  Do something!”  Beel appeals to his older brother, pupils blown wide with fear.

Lucifer takes half a step forward, then relents, shaking his head silently.  He’s not going to interfere, even if it means his lord kills his younger brother.

Beel growls low in his throat and begins to shift, but Lucifer shoots him a look of warning.

“This is the last time you touch what isn’t yours Mammon.”  Diavolo has backed Mammon into a corner.  “Don’t resist and I’ll take you outside.  I won’t make your brothers watch this.”  

Mammon shoots a panicked look over Diavolo’s shoulder, blue eyes meeting mine. 

“Oh for the love of......!”  

It finally clicks in my brain that none of the brothers are going to step in.  I run towards Diavolo, feet slipping on the kitchen tiles.  I grab him around the waist, attempting to stop his forward trajectory.  He drags me right along with him, my efforts in vain.

“Diavolo stop!  Stop!  You’re going to hurt him!” I shout, trying to get his attention.

Diavolo looks down at me, head cocked to the side.  For the first time since I’ve met him, I’m afraid truly afraid.  His deep amber eyes flash gold in the room’s low light; he’s now a predator in search of prey.  “I know.”  

Fear trickles down my spine and I break out in goosebumps.  “You can’t!”

Those golden eyes narrow and laser in on me.  “You would tell me what to do?!  A human would attempt to give orders to me in my own kingdom?!”

“Arianthi get back here!”  Belphie hisses.  

I glance over my shoulder and see him clutching his cow pillow, eyes wide.  

Diavolo takes another step towards Mammon, reaching out to grab his throat.  He lifts Mammon with one hand and I hear Mammon struggling, clawing at Diavolo’s hand and kicking his feet, attempting to find purchase.  

He’s really going to kill him.

I squeeze Diavolo’s waist tight and dig in my heels, attempting to pull him back.  “My prince stop!  Please, Lord Diavolo!”  

Blood has started to trickle from Mammon’s nose and his eyes roll back in his head.  

I’m going to be sick.

I bury my face in Diavolo’s back, tears stinging my eyes.  

“Diavolo!  Stop Dia, please!  Please, for me..... please don’t hurt him!”  I beg one more time.  

I hear a sudden, sickening thud as Mammon’s body hits the ground and feel myself move as Diavolo takes a step back.  I duck beneath one of his wings and scramble towards Mammon on my hands and knees.

“Mammon!  Mammon, open your eyes!”  I pull him halfway into my lap, patting his cheeks and attempting to wipe the blood from his face with the hem of my shirt.  

“Lucifer!  Satan!”  I scream for their help, realizing I’m well on my way to being hysterical but refusing to give in to it until I know Mammon is alright.

I feel, rather than see, Satan and Lucifer drop to their knees next to me, both reaching out to take measure of their brother’s injuries. 

“Arianthi.  We’re leaving.”  Diavolo is still in his demon form, looking down at me, extending his hand to help me up.

I shake my head and cling tighter to Mammon.  “No!  Not until I know he’s ok.”

He scowls at me.  

“I said we’re leaving.”  He enunciates each syllable, voice low and threatening.  

“And I said no!”  I tearfully give Mammon a small shake, willing him to wake up.  “You almost killed him Dia!” 

That seems to snap Diavolo out of his haze, and fury slowly fades from his face as his body relaxes.

Mammon rolls to his side and coughs roughly, eyelids flickering.  “Human?”

“I’m here, I’m here,” I reassure him, rubbing his back soothingly.  “Beel’s going to take you to your room, alright?  And Satan is coming too, so he can check on your throat.”  

I look up at Satan to make sure that’s fine, and he nods his ok while motioning for Beel to come get Mammon.

Beel picks Mammon up like he weighs nothing and leaves the kitchen, the other brothers, with the exception of Lucifer, filing out after him.  

When it’s just the three of us left we all stand silently staring at each other.  I slump against the counter, filled with too many emotions.  I’ve gone from sad, to angry, to freaked out, to scared shitless, all in the span of about twenty minutes.  

As I look back and forth between the two demons in front of me, rage starts to creep in, buzzing in the back of my skull like a horde of flies.

“Lucifer, you should go check on Mammon.  We can see ourselves out.”  My voice sounds icy, calm despite the fury that’s threatening to set fire to the blood in my veins.  

He was really going to let Mammon die.  He wasn’t going to do a damn thing to save him.  

Lucifer looks to Diavolo for confirmation.

“I said, go check on Mammon.  We’ll be back in a few days.”  

Both demons stare down at me, wearing identical frowns.  

“With an apology.”  I fix a glare at Diavolo, daring him to argue.  

I wish a motherfucker would.  I.  Wish.  A.  Motherfucker.  Would.  

Diavolo opens his mouth as if to say something, then snaps it closed and gives Lucifer a curt nod.  

Despite his confusion at the shift in power dynamics Lucifer nods.  “I will speak to you soon my lord.  Arianthi.” 

As soon as he’s out of sight, I stalk to the front door and out of the House of Lamentation without waiting to see if Diavolo is following.  He catches up to me quickly, one of his steps making three or four of my own.  

Bastard.  

“Arianthi,” he says softly, reaching out for my hand.  “Please stop.”

“I swear to god if you lay one finger one me I will bite it off.”  I hiss, never breaking my stride.  

Diavolo flinches back, startled.  He stays a few paces behind me for the duration of our walk back to the castle.  I storm in, past a clearly flustered Barbatos, and make my way to our bedroom.  I try to slam the door in Diavolo’s face but he’s too quick.  

Bastard!

“You’re going to be sleeping somewhere else tonight,” I inform Diavolo with a bravado I don’t feel.  A hysterical laugh escapes through my lips, and I clap both hands over my mouth.  

I’m trying to order the prince of the Devildom out of his own bedroom.  After he almost killed another demon.  After he almost killed Mammon.  

Another laugh leaks out.  Along with a few tears.  

I collapse on the edge of the bed, my shaking knees finally giving out on me.  I dig the heels of my hands into my eyes, attempting to fend off more tears.  I hear a rustle of fabric and bring my hands down.  Diavolo is back in human form, kneeling in front of me.  

The fragile dam holding in my emotions breaks.  

“How could you do that?  You almost killed him Dia!”  I wrap my arms around my stomach and hunch over, attempting to self soothe. 

He reaches out for me then pulls his hand back, thinking better of it.  He sighs.  “I am so sorry Princess.  I wish you hadn’t seen that.”

“I wish you hadn’t done that!”  I snap back.

“He shouldn’t have touched you!”  Diavolo growls at me, eyes flashing gold again.  

“So strangling him was the answer?!  I could have handled it!  What were you even doing there?”

Diavolo inhales deeply.  I’m aware I’m punching every button on his console but I really don’t care.  

“Could you have though?  Really?  How would you have handled it princess?”  He demands.  “ And I was there because you weren’t in bed when I came up.  The House of Lamentation was the only place where I thought you may be.”

“I would have talked to him!  He’s only like that because we left things a mess between us; we need to clear the air.”

“So now you’re excusing him?”  Diavolo is aghast.  

“No, I’m not excusing him, but I understand why he did what he did.  He’s hurt and he’s confused.”

“You’re excusing him.”  He repeats stubbornly.  “And you would have attempted to reason with him, while he was in his demon form?  He could have killed you with a flick of his wrist Arianthi!”

I shake my head, just as stubborn.  “Mammon would never hurt me on purpose.”

“Humans are fragile!  Especially here.  He could have killed you without meaning too!”  

“Oh for Christ’s sake Diavolo!”  I fall back onto the mattress, exasperated.  “I could be killed just as easily in the human realm.  A goose could take me out on a roller coaster for all we know.  So just fuck off with your “humans are so fragile” bullshit.”

“A goose on a roller coaster?”  Diavolo pauses for a minute, considering, then gets back on track.  “He still shouldn’t have put his hands on what’s mine.”

I sit up very slowly.  “I beg your pardon?”

His eyes widen.  “What?”

“What’s yours?”  I use my fingers to make air quotes.  “I’m a person, not a puppy Dia.”

“I know.  But you’re in a relationship with me.  Making you effectively mine.”  

I’m gobsmacked at the finality in his tone.  “No.  Not how things work.  Humans don’t belong to each other.”

“I’m not a human!”  He roars out, clearly frustrated by our conversation.  

His outburst shocks me into silence, and I fold my hands in my lap, unsure what to do.

“I’m sorry Arianthi, I shouldn’t have -”

“No,” I interrupt him.  “No, you’re right.  You’re not human.  I’ve let myself forget that.  You’ve spoiled me and you’ve been so loving and attentive.  You’re such an amazing boyfriend Dia.  But you’ve protected me from so much here....... I forgot that fundamentally we are very, very different.”  

Diavolo looks like I’ve slapped him.  I try to look anywhere but his hurt face, casting about for something to do.

“I’m going to go take a shower,” I say, standing up.

He nods mutely as I slip past him into the bathroom.  I click the lock, and turn on the shower, adjusting the water temperature to just under boiling.  My arm has a few bruises from where Mammon grabbed me - nothing serious.  I scrub at my skin harshly, trying to cleanse myself of my frustration and fear.  

I want to go home.  Do I really though?  

I sigh and thunk my head against the wall of the shower. 

No.  If I’m honest with myself I don’t want to.  And if I’m really honest with myself.......I’m in love with both......nope.  Not going there.  Nope.  No.  

I indulge myself in another deep sigh.  

I’m not built for this kind of introspection.  Between the two of them I forgot how dangerous the Devildom can be for a human.  And tonight they showed me how dangerous they both can be with the right provocation.  

I brush my wet hair out of my eyes and turn under the spray of hot water, rinsing the last of the soap from my body.  

Am I even really safe from them?  

I feel a hot rush of guilt and shame for the thought.  

I just hate this situation.  I hate feeling so weak and frustrated.  

I stifle a scream and turn off the water.  

Hopefully Dia is gone.  Or asleep, and I can sneak off to one of the guest rooms.  

When I emerge from the bathroom, dry and wrapped in a large towel, I see that once again this evening luck is not on my side.  Diavolo is sitting in one of our bedroom’s large armchairs, idly flipping through the pages of a book.  

He gives me a cautious smile.  “Hey princess.”

“Hello.”  I walk to the closet and look for something to sleep in.  After a few minutes of searching I grumble in frustration.  Since I’ve moved into Diavolo’s bedroom I’ve been sleeping in his shirts; I can’t even locate any of my own pajamas.  

“Of for the love of Christ!”  I rub my hands over my face in frustration.

“Something wrong princess?”  

I jump, startled.  I turn around to see Diavolo standing behind me, looking concerned.  

“Don’t call me that!”  I snap at him.

His face falls.  “I apologize.  Is something wrong Arianthi?”

I turn back to the closet shelves to search again.  

“You almost killed one of the men I -” I grumble, before stopping myself with a squeak of surprise.  I stiffen momentarily, praying that Diavolo didn’t hear me.  

Does God still listen to prayers once you start sleeping with a demon?  

Diavolo takes a step closer and places his hands on my shoulders, turning me around to face him.  He winces at how I flinch at his touch.  He reaches up to cup my jaw with one large hand.  

“I am so sorry Arianthi.  Despite what has happened, I know that Mammon is important to you.  All the brothers are.  I shouldn’t have let my possessiveness of you get that out of control.  I promise you I will make this right with Mammon.  And with you.  Tell me what you need from me to make this right,” he pleads, his gentle eyes searching my face.

I chew on my lower lip.  “You need to apologize to Mammon.”

“Done.  As soon as possible.”

“And....”  I suck in a deep breath, suddenly lightheaded.  “I want you to let Lucifer out of his pledge to you.”

Diavolo’s eyes widen.  “I’m sorry?”

“I want you to let Lucifer out of his pledge to you,” I repeat again, with more confidence.

He narrows his eyes at me.  “Lucifer’s pledge is none of your concern.”

“Because this is your kingdom and I’m just a human?”  I challenge him, my voice bitter.

Diavolo’s face falls.  “No, princess.  I’m so sorry I said that.  That is in no way how I feel about you.”  

He wraps his arms around me and pulls me close to his chest.  I stiffen for a minute, then relax into his embrace.  

“But I really do fail to see how Lucifer’s pledge is of concern in this matter.”  

I place my hands on his chest and push back slightly, so I’m able to look up at him.  

“You’re almost killed his brother Dia.  And he didn’t step in because of his pledge to you.  He couldn’t even allow his other brothers help Mammon.”  I look into his eyes, willing him to understand what I’m saying.

“You feel that Lucifer’s pledge to me is too much?”  

“I really do.  I understand that he’s your second in command, so why can’t he just be that, without his pledge?  If this is something that has the potential to put his family at risk, or that means he places you above his family.........” I shake my head.  “That’s not fair Dia.  You can’t ask him to do that.”

“Princess...” Diavolo trails off, still not completely convinced.

Almost there.  Time to bring out the big guns.  

I look at him with my best puppy dog eyes.  “It’s been centuries since Lilith.  And Lucifer has served you faithfully every day since then.  He still will I’m sure, but he deserves the chance to make his own decisions Dia, not just be blindly loyal to you.”  

I pause for a few beats.  

“Please baby?”  I whisper.

When Diavolo lets out a low groan I know that I’ve won.  

“You are entirely too much princess.”  He drops a kiss onto my forehead.  “When we go speak with Mammon I will inform Lucifer he is free of his pledge to me.”

I hug him tightly.  “Thank you.  Thank you so much.” 

I let out a yelp as he suddenly picks me up and walks towards the bed.  “What are you doing?” 

He drops me on the mattress and shrugs.  “I’m tired of talking in the closet.”  

He strips off his jacket and sits down next to me.  “I am so sorry for what happened tonight.  For hurting Mammon, for scaring you.  For hurting you and making you question what you mean to me.”  

He pulls me into his lap, resting his forehead against mine.  “I will never stop trying to make this up to you.”

I loop my arms over his shoulders.  “I believe you.”

He nuzzles his face into my neck.  “I love you princess.”

“I love you too.”  I idly play with his hair, marveling for the hundredth time at how soft it is.

“Even though we’re so different?”  His question is whispered against my neck, so soft that I almost don’t hear it.  

“Oh Dia.....” I reach down and cup his face in my hands, forcing him to look at me.  

“Of course I do.  Us being different isn’t a deal breaker.  We still have a lot of things to learn about each other, but as long as we’re open and communicate honestly everything will be fine.”

Diavolo nods, then gives me a little smile.  “You’re right.”

I boop his nose.  “I often am.”

“And so modest.”�� He chuckles and pulls me into a kiss.  

It starts out soft, a gentle teasing of lips and tongues, but quickly turns heated.  I card my hands through his hair and tug roughly, biting at his lower lip hard enough to draw blood.  

He pulls away from me, shocked, and touches his fingers to his lip.  When he pulls them away and sees a few drops of blood, his eyes darken with something I can quite place.  

“Still mad at me my princess?”

I feel my face flush. 

“I may still have some aggression to get out,” I mutter, refusing to look at him.

Diavolo grabs my chin and forces my head up.  He grins at me, looking feral in the low light of the bedroom.  “I can help with that.”

He yanks my towel off and I hear fabric ripping.  He carelessly tosses the scraps to the floor then grabs my hips, positioning me so that I’m straddling his thigh. One of his hands grips the back of my neck as the other slides up my stomach to cup my breast.  

“Kiss me,” he growls.

I hesitate for a moment and Diavolo roughly pinches my nipple, drawing a shocked gasp from my lips.  His hand leaves my neck long enough to deliver a stinging slap to my ass.  I jump at the impact and let out a whimper.  

“Do as you’re told princess,” he whispers in my ear, nipping at my earlobe.

I bring my lips close to his, barely touching.  “You’re playing rough tonight my prince,” I murmur.

“You started it.”  He lowers his head and his fangs close in on the delicate skin of my neck while his hand delivers another sharp smack to my ass.

I seal my mouth over his, licking along his lower lip and tasting blood.  His hands grip my hips, forcing me to grind down against his thigh.  I gasp at the intense friction against my clit, and his tongue flicks against mine.  I fist his shirt in my hands, trying to bring him closer.

When we finally break apart I kiss along his jaw and down his neck, my fingers fumbling with the buttons on his shirt.  His hands keep working my hips in a delicious rhythm against his thigh while I yank open his shirt, dropping kisses across his chest.  

“Shirt.  Off,” I demand, moving back up to his mouth.

He chuckles against my lips.  “As you wish.”  

He shrugs his shirt off and my hands immediately begin exploring the smooth skin of his shoulders and chest.  I move in to kiss him again, but he winds some of my hair around his fist and yanks me back hard, so that my chest is arched towards him.

Diavolo’s mouth works feverishly against my skin, leaving warm, wet kisses and sharp bites over my breasts.  He sucks one of my nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue and scraping his fangs against it.  

“Dia,” I whine, moving my hips helplessly.  As good as the friction from his thigh feels, I want him to fuck me.  

A sharp slap rings out and I feel the sting of his palm against my ass once again.  I scream out and jerk forwards, pleasure and pain making it hard to think clearly.  

“No whining,” Diavolo commands.  He gives my shoulder a sharp bite, one hand coming between us to rub my clit.  

“You have made such a mess on these pants,” he mumbles against the skin of my neck.  

I gasp and dig my fingernails into his shoulders, tension gathering in my lower abdomen.  He continues to use one finger to lazily circle my clit and mouths at  my neck while I grind into him, chasing my orgasm.  I’m right at the edge when abruptly removes his finger.

“What the fuck?” I whimper.

He smiles at me before lowering his head to flick his tongue against my nipple.  “Tell me what you want Arianthi.”  

“I want you.”  I tug at his hair, holding his head in place while his mouth works against me.

He stops long enough to say, “You have me,”  before sucking forcefully on my nipple again, his hand palming and squeezing my other breast.  

I groan in frustration and pleasure.  “Fuck me.....I want you to fuck me.”  

He chuckles darkly.  “Not yet baby.  Cum on my thigh first.  Then I’ll fuck you.”

I reach between us, running my hand along the length of his erection, reveling in the moan that leaves his lips.  One of his hands is on my waist, fingers pressing deeply into my skin.  I clumsily undo his belt, then his button and zipper, before reaching into his pants and freeing his cock.  I tease the tip with my thumb, smearing pre-cum, before softly running my fingertips over the velvet soft skin of his hardness.

“Such a little cock tease.”  Diavolo brings his lips to mine, kissing me hungrily.  

I use one hand to stroke his cock, the other I place on his shoulder to steady myself as I slowly start rolling my hips.  The hard muscles of his thigh and the rough fabric of his pants rubbing against my clit make for an intense duality of sensations and I moan into his mouth.  

“That’s right baby.”  Diavolo takes my lower lip between his teeth and tugs.  “Just like that.”  

I tighten my grip on his cock and he hisses in pleasure, hips bucking.  My breath starts coming in short pants, pleasure building as Diavolo uses his mouth and hands on me.  One last roll of my hips has me seeing stars and crying out his name.  He holds me close to his chest, peppering my face with soft kisses as I come down from my high.  

My body is pleasantly loose, humming with satisfaction from my orgasm and the feel of Diavolo’s mouth.  I wind my arms around his neck and lazily return his kisses.

“Ready for more my princess?”  Diavolo asks, nuzzling my hair.  

I nod eagerly, pressing an open mouthed kiss to his throat.

“Good.”  He squeezes my ass, sore from his earlier slaps, and turns, sending me tumbling onto the mattress.  “On your hands and knees my love.  Ass up.”

I rush to obey his command, pressing my chest and face against the mattress and arching my back, wiggling my hips in excitement. 

Finally.

Diavolo stands, and I hear the rustle of his pants hitting the floor and the clinking of his belt buckle.  I turn my head to look at him and see that he’s folding his belt into a makeshift strop. 

Oh, so we’re playing like that tonight.

The mattress sinks beneath his weight and I feel bare skin brush mine as he settles behind me.  Cool leather traces the curve of my spine as one of his calloused fingers traces small patterns over my ass.

“As pretty as my hand prints look on your skin, I’d love to mark you up just a little more,” Diavolo says. He bring the belt between my legs, giving my pussy a few light smacks.  “Are you up for a little more, princess?”

“Yes my prince,” I reply breathily, trying to anticipate his next move.

Diavolo growls low in appreciation.   “Count for me then.  To ten.”

I barely have time to nod before supple leather cracks against my skin.  “Ah!”

“Count for me baby,” he orders, slowly slipping one finger into my pussy. 

I involuntarily react at the invasion, my slick walls tightly gripping his finger.

“Fuck,” he groans out, slowly pulling his finger out halfway then thrusting back in.

“O-o-one” I stutter out.  

Another crack and the sting of leather again my skin.  “Two.”

A second finger joins the first, gently preparing me for his cock, in tandem with another lash against my ass. The gentle rhythm of his fingers is at odds with the harshness of his breathing and the sting of the strop. 

“Count.”

“Three!”  I move my hips back against his hand, greedy for more of him, greedy to be filled.

“So needy tonight baby,” Diavolo mumbles, his fingers never breaking rhythm as his brings his belt down again.

“Four,” I cry out, a second orgasm quickly building.

At the seventh stroke of his belt I cum around his fingers, drawing a strangled sound from his throat.  

“Fuck, princess.”

I’ve barely recovered when he delivers the last three strikes in quick succession. I collapse onto the mattress, body sore and mind hazy.

“On your knees.  Your prince isn’t done with you yet.” 

Diavolo lifts my hips, adjusting me, and dusts kisses across my lower back.

“Oof!” 

The breath is pushed from my lungs as Diavolo wraps one hand around the back of my neck, pushing my upper body into the mattress and holding me there. His other hand guides his cock to my pussy, sliding it against my slit and gathering my wetness, rubbing against my swollen clit, before finally pressing into me.

Once he’s fully buried inside me, Diavolo uses his other hand to grab my wrist and pin it behind my back. Now gripping my neck and arm, completely controlling my position, he has me right where he wants me.

He slowly, tortuously, pulls out.  I whimper in protest, trying to move but his hold on me is ironclad.  He teases me, presses just the head of his cock into my pussy, thrusting in short, shallow strokes before roughly bucking his hips against mine.

“Diavolo!” 

He sets a brutal pace, cock merciless pounding into my pussy, the skin of his lower stomach rubbing against the welts on my ass, his balls slapping against my clit.

“I can’t believe how well you’re taking me baby.  How wet you are for me, being such a good girl and letting me fuck you like this.” 

Praises fall from Diavolo’s lips even as he abuses my body, and my god, what wondrous abuse it is.  Being totally at his mercy is an aphrodisiac by itself, but coupled with his words and touches my body feels like it’s being consumed by my searing desire.

I feel his hips stutter and realize Diavolo is close to his own orgasm.  He releases my neck and wrist, before gently pressing my whole body down onto the mattress.  He slows his thrusts, leaning down against me, pressing kisses against my shoulders, hands roaming up and down my sides.

He slides one hand between my hips and the mattress, large fingers easily finding my clit.  

“I want you to cum with me baby.  Cum one more time for me princess.”

I mewl in response, eyes rolling back in my head.  A few quick motions of his fingers have me flying apart and crying out his name.  My pussy clenches down on his thick cock, squeezing hard, milking his orgasm from him as he shoots rope after rope of warm cum against my trembling walls.

He collapses against me completely, our bodies still joined, murmuring loving affirmations, running his fingers through my sweat dampened hair.  He gently disentangles himself from me after a few moments and I hear him pad into the bathroom.  

I stretch luxuriously, completely fucked out, and absentmindedly admire the new marks on my body.  Love bites and fingernail scratches paint my skin and I can feel the welts on my ass from Diavolo’s belt.  I touch my fingers to my lips; they feel puffy and swollen, and my scalp is sore from where he pulled my hair.  I sigh happily and squirm deeper into the mattress, a small smile on my lips.  

I feel Diavolo settle back next to me on the bed.  

“Feeling better princess?”  He asks, amusement in his voice.

“Much,” I sigh, opening my eyes to look at him.  

He reaches out with a warm, wet washcloth and gently begins cleaning sweat and cum from my body.  After he has dried me with a soft towel he applies a soothing balm to my welts and the deeper bite marks.  He helps me into one of his shirts then tucks me firmly into bed, dropping a kiss on my forehead.

“I’ll be right back baby.  I’m going to go grab you some water and a snack.”  

He flashes me a smile as he pulls on a pair of grey sweats and quietly slips out of the room.  

Surrounding by warmth and Diavolo’s familiar scent I slowly drift off, coming to only when I feel him slip under the blankets next to me and hear his low chuckle.  

“Come on princess,” he urges me lovingly.  “I need you to wake up and eat just a little bit for me before you go to bed.”

I blink drowsily at him.  “Feed me.”

He shakes his head and laughs.  “Open up then.”

I obey and suddenly taste something warm, flaky, and buttery.  “Mmmmmm.  I didn’t know Barbatos made bread today. “

Diavolo huffs out a small laugh.  “I think it’s for tomorrow, but I doubt he’ll mind if I steal some for a midnight snack.”  

He pops a piece of bread into his mouth and grins at me.  

Diavolo spends the next few minutes slowly feeding me some more bread, and helping me sip some water.  Once he’s satisfied he pulls me to him, cradling me against his chest, and curling his body around mine.  

“I love you so much Arianthi.  I will do anything in my power to make sure that you are happy,” he whispers into my hair.

“I love you too Diavolo,” I manage to reply, before I tumble off into the abyss of sleep.  

Two weeks later Diavolo and I are sitting on the couch in the library of the House of Lamentation, Mammon and Lucifer sitting in the two armchairs opposite us.  The air is thick with tension, and Mammon looks like he wants to jump out of his skin.  He keeps shooting anxious glances at me, and I try to smile back at him encouragingly.  

Diavolo starts us off.  “Lucifer and Mammon, I owe each of you an apology.  Mammon I shouldn’t have attacked you.  That was unforgivable of me and I don’t know if I will ever be able to make it up to you.  I offer you my sincerest apology.”

Mammon’s eyes shoot from me to Lucifer to Diavolo.  His mouth opens and closes a few times, but he’s unable to form a response.  

“Oh!”  I pop up from my seat and rush to hand him a large, wrapped package.  

“I got you something too.  I’m sorry for yelling at you that night Mammon.  And for everything that has happened between us.  I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I really am so sorry that I hurt you.  And I got you this.”�� 

I shove the package into his hands.

He eyes me for a minute before tearing into the wrapping paper.  His mouth twitches as he smooths his hands over the soft leather of the deep wine colored jacket I had picked out for him.

“I thought the color would look really good against your skin and your hair,” I explain in a rush.  “But if you don’t like it -”

“I love it ya dumb human.”  Mammon looks up at me with a small smile and softly brushes his fingers against mine.  “And I forgive ya.  I’m sorry too.  For everything.”  

I give his hand a quick squeeze before returning to my seat next to Diavolo.

“I also owe you an apology Lucifer.  I came into your home and attacked one of your brothers without provocation.  I hope you can forgive me.”

“Of course my lord.”  Lucifer seems shocked Diavolo would even apologize for that in the first place.  

Diavolo looks at me and takes a deep breath before continuing.  “It has been brought to my attention that I also owe you an apology for the terms of your pledge to me.”

Lucifer’s head snaps up, his eyes wide.  “I don’t understand my lord.”

“You should not be bound to me by an oath that prioritizes me over your family.  So I release you from your pledge to me.  You have served at my side faithfully for centuries, and I hope you will continue to do so.  But now you have the freedom to make your own choices, even to stand against me if you determine the situation calls for it.”

For the first time in our history together Lucifer is speechless.  

“Lucifer?  Are you ok?”  I ask him cautiously.

He shakes his head, breaking out of daze.  

“Of course Arianthi.”  He gives me a slight smile, before looking to Diavolo.  

“Thank you my lord.  I would be honored to continue in my service to you.  I can’t deny that being able to focus more on my brothers will be a welcome change.”

Diavolo grins at him.  “Perfect.  Now Lucifer, I would ask that you excuse us.  There is something I wish to speak to Arianthi and Mammon about in private.”

Lucifer, Mammon, and I share a look of panic. 

The fuck, Diavolo?

Lucifer recovers first and stands, giving Diavolo a short bow.  “As you wish Lord Diavolo.”  

He quickly exits the library, closing the door firmly behind him.  

“Mammon, if you would, come sit next to Arianthi.  I’ll take your seat.”  

Diavolo stands up and Mammon hesitantly sits down on the couch, careful to keep his distance from me.  Diavolo moves an armchair closer to the couch so he can sit directly across from us.

He smiles and waves a hand at Mammon and I.  “You may as well sit as close as you wish.  You two do love each other after all.”

I feel my spine straighten with shock and can see from the corner of my eye that Mammon has adopted a similar pose next to me.  

“Diavolo-”  Mammon begins to protest.

“You would deny that you love Arianthi?  After that little declaration you made in your kitchen?”  Diavolo cocks his head to the side in amusement.  “And you my princess, I know you love him.”

We both deflate a little, but are still on guard.  We stay silent.

“What are ya playin’ at Diavolo?”  Mammon finally asks.  

Diavolo leans forward, forearms braced on his thighs.  

“I’m not playing at anything.  I promised Arianthi I would do anything in my power to make her happy.  She loves me, and she loves you.  We both love her.  So I have a proposal.  Why not let her have us both Mammon?”

Mammon’s mouth goes slack with shock and I stare at Diavolo in confusion.

“Are you saying you want me to date both of you?”  I manage to croak out.

Diavolo takes my hand in his.  “I’m saying I want you to be happy.  I’m confident in the love we share.  But I would be a truly neglectful prince if I ignored my princess’s deepest wishes.”  

He kisses my knuckles.  “If you are accepting of this, I would offer you the chance to have us both.”

I turn to look at Mammon, who still hasn’t said anything.  

“I don’t....it’s not just me Diavolo.  Mammon....I don’t....”  I trail off, unable to form a coherent thought.

Mammon frowns.  “So what?  Ya want me to move into the castle with ya?  Share the bed?”

Diavolo shrugs, unconcerned.  “If that’s what you and Arianthi wish.”

Mammon’s blue eyes meet mine.  “I do love ya.  And bein’ with ya.........ya know I want that too.  But I can’t just be....”

“My dirty secret?”  I finish softly.  

He nods mournfully.

“I’m not asking Mammon to be kept a secret.”  Diavolo reassures us.  “If we decide to do this, then Mammon would be brought into this relationship as an equal.  He has the same protections and privileges as you do.  The same affections from me if he wishes them.  And with time maybe even my love as well, if he wants, and I feel the same way.” 

“Can you do that?  Publicly I mean?”  I ask, shocked.  

Mammon has been stunned into silence next to me.  

“You still struggle with the whole “Prince of the Devildom” concept don’t you, princess?”  Diavolo gives a small laugh.  

“Relationships like the one I’m proposing aren’t uncommon here.  I am the prince, the next ruler of the Devildom.  Who would stand against me?  And it’s not like I’m immune to Mammon’s many physical charms.  This wouldn’t exactly be a stretch for me, especially if it makes the woman I love happy.”

Mammon flushes red to the tips of his ears and mumbles something I don’t quite catch.  He stays silent for a while, considering.  He turns to me.  “Are ya goin’ back to the human realm?”

I blush and shake my head.  “I’m staying here after the exchange program is over.”

He nods.  

“So this would be a long term relationship?”  He aims his next question at Diavolo.

Diavolo smiles and reaches out to hold my hand.  “I would like to make it a permanent relationship someday soon, if Arianthi would have me.”  

I blush again at the implication Diavolo’s words.

“Ok.  So sayin’ ya do make Arianthi your princess.  Where would that leave me?”  Mammon asks.

“It wouldn’t leave you anywhere.  You would still be by our side.  By Arianthi’s side,” Diavolo responds.  

“And what about when it’s time for ya to have an heir?”

Mammon’s next question hits me like a bus.  I knew, in an abstract way, that Diavolo would eventually have to produce an heir to the Devildom.  

“What about it?”  Diavolo shrugs dismissively.  “There’s no rush for such a thing.  I think what you’re really trying to ask is if the heir must be borne of my seed.”

Mammon’s cheeks redden slightly, and grits his teeth.  “That’s what I’m askin’, yeah.”

“No, they don’t.”  Diavolo shakes his head.  “If Arianthi is the princess, and you are our partner, any child borne of our relationship will be a valid heir.  I have no need to know who’s blood it is, as we would all be equals in the relationship.  I would love the child regardless.”

Mammon and I lean into each other, overwhelmed and seeking each other’s warmth.  His hand grips mine, thumbs brushing over my knuckles absentmindedly as he thinks.  

Diavolo is mimicking the motion on my other hand, waiting for a response to his proposal.  As insane as his idea sounds......it feels right.  

I can’t be selfish.  Diavolo is ok with it.  I’m pretty sure I am too.  But Mammon has to be ok too.  I wouldn’t ever push him into something like this.  

“Mammon?”  I ask softly.

“Mmmm?”  He rests his head on my shoulder in an unusually bold gesture.

“What do you think about all this?  About what Dia is asking?”

“I never thought it would be an option.”  He sounds dazed.

“Would you be ok with...you know?”

“Sharing?”  He lets out a startled laugh.  “It would take some gettin’ used to.  But if it’s only him,” he gestures at Dia, “and everything is as equal as he says it gonna be then I think it might be alright.”  

Mammon smirks a little.  “I know a good lookin’ demon when I see one.  Bein’ in his bed wouldn’t be a hassle, especially if you're there too.  And I’m sure the castle has all sorts of treasure that could make up for him almost killin’ me.”  

“You would get a very generous allowance.” Diavolo smirks back at him.  “You would still be expected to carry out your duties as one of the seven ruling lords of the Devildom, as well as your R.A.D. studies.”

“I can do that easy,” Mammon answers, voice cocky.

Diavolo extends his free hand to Mammon.  “So what do you say Mammon?  Be with us?”

Mammon doesn’t hesitate.  “Yeah,” he says with a smile, slipping his free hand into Diavolo’s.  “I wanna be with both of ya.”  

[ad1ostoreador]

Hair eyes wings

[hair]: length, colour, texture, whether it grows quickly or slowly, how manageable it is, whether it requires lots of styling, do they leave stray hairs everywhere, is it present on their face, is it present on the rest of their body, etc.

a headcanon I really like playing with is that trolls have absolutely wild rates of mutation, and the degree to which such mutations are culled from the pool is very dependent on how high the troll's caste is. so, a troll like Eridan having a colored streak in his hair is fine, but a lowblood might be given a harder time over it.  Rufioh's red streaks gave me an excuse to say 'okay, the Nitram line has whatever minor mutation is responsible for hair-streaks.' Rufioh just opted to dye his a brighter red, while Tavros opted to shave his off to hide them and thus had a mohawk from a young age. when he gets sloppy on hair-trims, the sides of his mohawk start growing back in, and he's got rust-bronze stubble in streaks down the sides of his head.  even though he's not on Alternia or concerned about culling, anymore, he still prefers the feeling of the sides of his head being shaved, especially when the weather starts getting warmer.  hair tickling his ears drives him nuts. the speed at which it grows is somewhat limited by the frequency with which I stop to consider how long it's been since his last haircut, but can be assumed to be a normal rate... I guess?

texture-wise, his hair is thick and has a bit of a wave to it, about a 2B at most.  fun fact: trolls in his timeline have some degree of reflex response to crest their head hair up at times. his can floof up pretty high in the right situation.  he used to use a lot more product to try to keep it all slicked back/down, as a kid.  now, it's habitually free and tousled and windblown, and prone to falling forward in his eyes a bit.

and while I have said I prefer my trolls entirely without body hair, I reserve the right for him to have some sideburn growth/scruff down the sides of his jaw.  he'd never have the ability to grow a mustache or full beard or anything, but the side-jaw scruff is a thing, a little.  oh, and I usually draw his eyebrows kinda thick but shorter which is somewhere between a stylistic artistic preference and a headcanon, so....

[eyes]: not just the colour, but the shape, the length of their eyelashes, whether they’re alert or usually half-closed, large or small, sunken into the face, ringed by bags, etc.

okay troll eye headcanon time.  I really like the idea that the reason troll eyes have such a bogus variety of colors, shapes, number of 'pupils', etc, as well as the ability to fucking change color when a troll is real mad... is because the color isn't entirely a pigment thing, it's a structural thing, and stress/fear/hormonal responses can physically change the structure of the eye enough for the color to shift red.  so... Tav's eyes are some weird alien mix of compound 'bug'-like structures in an eyeball + eyelid configuration, however little biological sense that makes.  if insect eye macros don't freak you out, look at this, because that shows pretty well the combination of yellow/orange and rust-brown, along with the appearance of a 'pupil' which isn't actually a pupil at all. (also take a look at this pic and tell me it wouldn't be a badass explanation for how Vriska's eye looked.)

other than the wacky compound structure, which is of course not wacky at all and perfectly normal in his timeline, his eyes are... idk, normal-sized, maybe tending to look bigger/more open because of softer expressions, on average.  black eyelashes, like his hair.  I'd say short but cow eyelashes are so long and pretty I feel he should have thick/long eyelashes to go along with the theme.

he used to have a lot more trouble sleeping (still does, if he's around people he doesn't trust implicitly) and had perpetual eyebags, but he's pretty well rested these days and so doesn't have the obvious shadows under his eyes anymore.

(edited to add: another fun headcanon... trolls with psionic powers don’t really display the eye-glow unless they are actively using quite a bit of their power.  Tavros’s eyes can glow brightly, if he’s communing hard enough... but you probably wouldn’t want to stick around to meet whatever he was communing with, at that level of output.)

[wings]:

Tavros's wings are big. they gotta be, to carry someone his size.  they're shaped more or less like extremely elongated butterfly wings--somewhere between butterfly shape and dragonfly shape, structurally--but with three pairs instead of two. the uppermost set is the biggest both in length and in width, the center set is very narrow, and the trailing tips of the bottom set can brush the floor when angled low.  

like butterflies or moths, the wing-cells are fairly large and simplified, the darker veins that support the deceptively thin, fragile-looking chitin membrane and allow bloodflow and nerve connections are relatively prominent and quite strong, and his wings are coated with a very fine layer of nearly translucent chitin scales that help insulate them and give them a slightly iridescent, ruddy tinge.  like dragonflies (and unlike butterflies), he has direct flight musculature, with muscles attaching to the stem of each wing independently, allowing him to beat the pairs independently of each other, control timing and speed with more precision, and maneuver better in the air overall.  

when flying, due to their size and the speed at which they must beat, his wings create a low but audible hum/buzz.  he can also make very quiet crickety noises by rasping the edges of different pairs together.  due to his wings, he cannot lie flat on his back in bed or sit in any chair with a back higher than where his wingstems connect to his thorax. his wings can pivot and fold down flat against his back like a moth's when not in use, but cannot be crumpled or folded back on themselves like a beetle's.

[jay-and-dean]

Rescue You  Chapter 7 : November 11

Dean x reader

Summary : My name is Y/n. I’m the outcast of my witch community. This is the story of how I rescued Dean Winchester, the story of how he saved me.

Serie Warnings : Swearing. Injuries. Smut. Fluff. Angst.

Chapter warning : Fluff of the doom, Smut and of course Swearing.

Words : 3.4k (I broke my own rule again, but... smut.)

***Rescue You Masterlist***

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November 11, 4:27am

             A sharper turn makes me fall, and my head hits the car window, waking me in a gasp. I fell asleep again…

           I really try to stay awake, but this car is so warm and I’m so exhausted… Gently rocked by the vibration of the engine, I rub my eyes to get rid of the veil of sleep.

“Sorry Y/n” says Sam behind the wheel. “I almost missed the road.”

“Are you okay sweetheart ?” Dean asks, his low voice resonating so beautifully in this little space.

I nod and he turns a little to catch my hand like he did when I slept next to him in our cabin. A heavy sigh of relief escapes me the instant his fingers reach me. I grab it and lift it to put a light kiss on it, still a little shy, like I couldn’t believe I’m actually allowed to touch this man. I look for the wounds I took care of for days. Nothing.

           When he takes his hand off, I need a second to let go, my sore body begging him to stay close.

“Do you need me to drive Sammy ?” he asks, and his brother tells him he’s good.

So he opens his belt and gets up the best he can in the car.

“What are you doing  ?” Sam shouts.

“Shut up and drive” Dean grunts, stepping over the seat to join me on the back.

He’s too tall and almost falls, but catches himself heavily on the seat, his huge frame threatening to crush me.

           He manages to sit, and offers me a wide smile. My heart melts, I have no words to express my love for him, and despite the screams in my head, peace finally wraps me.

“Hey” he cups my face. “Those bruises and burns, Cas is going to heal them, like he healed me.”

I close my eyes while he puts a cautious kiss on my bruised jaw. I can’t believe how tender he is. I was used to my Dean -the hurt, weak one- to be tender, but the Dean sitting next to me right now… It’s like my wounded wolf had gone back to be the dangerous alpha of the pack, and still treated me like he did. He impresses me, he fascinates me, I adore him beyond words.

“I couldn’t heal you so good…” I whisper with a hint of sadness.

“You’re braver than any angel” he whispers.

His nose grazes my cheek and he bends a little to make our lips meet, not really kissing me at first, just touching my mouth.

“You scared me so much” he whispers with a suddenly sad look. “It never ends well in my life and… When you left me in that car… I thought I had lost you already. I couldn’t even scream, I couldn’t move... Don’t ever do that again.”

“I’m sorry…” I sigh. “I won’t leave you again, unless you want me too.”

He smiles and brushes my lips with his.

“Why would I want that ?” he smiles against me.

“I love you” I state shyly, shaking like the first time, looking down to see his mouth through the darkness of the night.

He kisses me, not eagerly, not hungrily, but like he needed me to feel safe, like he needed to be close to me, as we always were in that cabin. We were used to be just the two of us and I wonder how he can ignore his brother that much right now, like he didn’t care.

           I catch a glimpse of Sam’s astounded face in the rear-view mirror, the lines of his lips forming a discreet smile on the corners; but I quickly look away.

           Pecking my lover’s lips a few times, I finally wrap my arms around him and without even realizing it, start to cry, still shaken by all that happened these last few days. His now very strong arms circle me, his forearms crossing on my back, allowing both his huge hands to grab my shoulders. His grip is so firm, I feel like I could let my body go totally, he would still hold me.

“I’m sorry…” I apologize in his neck, my tears falling on him.

“You have nothing to be sorry for” he states. “You did literally everything you could. And you saved me…”

I squeeze him harder and suddenly stop, afraid that I could hurt him, like I used to worry.

“Oh… Dean, sorry…” I mumble. “Are you…”

“I’m healed” he cuts me, lifting his shirt to show me his stomach.

I can’t believe it, there is nothing there…

           With hesitant fingers, I touch the skin where his wound was, a cut so deep, so many stiches… Nothing. He bends to catch his jeans and lifts it on his splint leg to show me everything is gone, I let out a smiling sob, and run my hand on his hairy leg.

“I’m stronger baby” he says, the shadow of seriousness darkening his face all of sudden. “I’m the one protecting you now, no one is laying a magic finger on you, okay ?”

I snuggle next to him and rest my head on his shoulder, my hand under his shirt, stroking the soft skin in the place where there was blood and scab.

“What is that dress ?” he smiles when I put my feet on the seat, resting my knees on his thighs.

His hand shyly touches the cold skin of my scratched knee.

“My prom dress” I whisper. “And the dress of my own mourning, the exec… execution dress…”

“I can’t wait to see you in comfy clothes of life then” he states, kissing my forehead. “Sleep a bit, we’re taking you home…” Then his lips come closer to my ear and the last thing I hear before I drift peacefully this time is a whisper : “I love you.”

 November 11, 6:41am

             I frown when an intense light pierce my eyelids. Hiding my face against Dean I whine.

“Hey Y/n, wake up, we’re home” Dean’s voice calls me through the fog of my confused dreams.

I take a deep inhale of his smell to give me courage and open my eyes, the artificial light burning my pupils at first.

           I look around and my sleepy eyes widen : we’re in a garage, a huge one, with a lot of cars. I realize now that I never asked how their home was like, I guess I just imagined it humble and hidden, like another cabin in the wood maybe or, a farm. But this garage… it looks like the batcave, except there is no modern gadget, only vintage cars.

“Wh- Where are we ?” I mutter.

“This is the bunker’s garage” Dean says grunting when he finally gets up, stretching his legs. “We live in a bunker, long story. I’ll tell you everything later.”

He offers me his hand and I step out of Sam’s car, exploring the place with my eyes. Not letting my fingers go, he shakes his head with a groan and Sam seem to understand what he means.

“We will get her back” he assures Dean.

“My baby…” Dean pouts and for a second, I’m a little concern.

“The car you found Dean in…” Sam tells me. “Is Dean’s most important treasure… besides… you, I guess” he winks at me.

“If those bitches touch my car, I swear…” my love says and I can feel his palm actually crush mine involuntary.

“It’s out of the sacred ground” I say. “In crisis, no one is supposed to go out of the sacred ground. So… I guess they won’t touch your car… I hope.”

He offers me a tender smile and leads me to the door.

           After a few stairs, Sam opens a door and my breath got stuck in my throat.

           This place is incredible, I almost can’t see the ceiling, a huge table with a map presides in the middle, and I can see other rooms even bigger. There is something a little old about this place, but also very majestic and quiet. My eyes try to register everything, I have never seen anything so beautiful. It’s like entering a secret world.

           I stumble because I’m staring at the ceiling and the stairs, but catch myself on Dean’s jacket.

“Hey…” he says putting his hand on my back.

“This place is…”

“I know. It’s our home, welcome” he smiles.

           Sam turns on us and frown.

“We need to call Rowena and ask Cas what he found about the town…” he states. “Y/n, you have to tell me everything you know so I can understand…”

“Sammy” Dean cuts him. “Y/n is exhausted and went through a lot… What do you say we give her a few hours…You call Rowena, I take Y/n to the bathroom and let her sleep a bit, okay ?”

I look up at him and tears almost escape my eyes. Is that possible that such a man exists ? Sam nods and sighs.

“Y/n…” he says. “You rest a little, no witch can find this place.”

 November 11, 7:28am

             Dean showed me the bunker, explaining how they got it and how it works ; now I’m even more impressed.

“Hey, what do you say we take a hot shower” he smiles.

I can’t help but hum at the thought.

“I won’t need help for once” he states proudly, opening the bathroom door.

Even the bathroom is impressive but I don’t get much time to look around because Dean opens the zipper of my dress.

“I have no other clothes…” I sigh.

“We will get you knew ones” he murmurs from behind, pushing the dress off my shoulders slowly with a little kiss on my skin.

“I have no money, I don’t even have my ID card or anything” I start to stress.

“You don’t need money for now” he lets the dress fall on my feet and wraps his arms around my bare chest. “And the rest, we will get it back, I promise.”

He kisses my neck and I let my head back for it to rest on his shoulders.

“Dean ?” I ask while he nuzzles on my neck.

“Yeah ?”

I turn around in his arms and bite my lip shyly, pushing his flannel off his shoulders. I’m aware that he never saw me naked, and I can feel my cheeks burning.

“Can I undress you ? I miss taking care of you…” I ask low.

He gives me his most radiant smile and lets go of me, his arms falling on each side of his body. I can feel his eyes on me, on my chest and on my stomach, I start to shake a little. Maybe he’s disappointed, maybe he doesn’t like my body so much, we only made love once after all.

“You’re beautiful” he whispers and his hand come to my right breast cautiously.

I shiver and struggle to take his t-shirt off but he helps me with his other hand.

           Everything is fixed. No wound, no scratch, the tattoo is intact and his skin is soft… I run my hand on him and a single tear falls on my face. Closing my eyes, I come closer and take him in my arms, crushing my chest on his in a sigh.

           I know his body by heart. Every freckle and every mole, each line, each curve ; every reaction and contraction of his muscles… And the suffering that was so ubiquitous on him disappeared completely. He doesn’t move, free of shyness, when I take his pants and boxers down ; he just doesn’t have anything to hide.

           What I know less about his body is that strength and confidence, that way he walks, that way he stands. The relaxed look on his face. I was used to hear whines and groans of pain, but that relieved moan when the hot spray coats him of deliciously hot water… I never heard that.  

           I get wet just watching him. So when his large and powerful hands devour my body with that delicious foam, when his thumb stroke my nipples while going up to my throat, when his half hard cock twitches at the sound of the moan that just escapes me… I start rubbing my tights on each other.

           He smiles in a kiss he puts on my mouth.

“Is that need ?” he grins.

“I’m sorry…” I whisper looking down, but his cock twitches again.

“Don’t be…”

His mouth reaches my jaw, his hands are everywhere. They go down my ass and front, teasing my inner thighs and folds just a little. I gasp.

“I wanted you…” he moans. “I could barely move and I wanted you…”

“Dean…” I grab his shoulder and kiss him.

“You’ve seen me in the worst circumstances and still wanted me… Why ?” his hands caress my folds and his middle finger slips between them, teasing my clit.

“I just…” I pant. “I love you… ah…”

“Loving me is not a good idea baby…” his finger teases my entrance but never gives me what I crave for. “It’s dangerous…”

“It’s the safer I can get” I sigh, rolling my hips a little. “You know where I come from…”

           Suddenly, he takes his hand away and kisses me softly.

“Let’s get out, you need to go to bed” he states, rinsing his hair.

“No… Dean…” I plead him, running my hands on his chest and shoulder. “I want you.”

He doesn’t answer and when I send my fingers down a bit, brushing next to his navel, almost reaching the curly hair above his cock, he steps out of the shower.

“Dean…” I whine and he smiles biting his lips, the adorable wrinkles of his eyes appearing to taunt me.

“Come here” he orders putting a towel around his waist.

I walk toward him and sigh in frustration. I need him, really bad, each cell of my body calls him but he welcomes me with a towel, wrapping me in it. He rubs my body firmly, drying my skin vigorously like he did for him, and I cling to him not to lose balance.

           When I enter his room, two things scream in me : the amazing feeling of him letting me here, where his smell is everywhere, in the only room he had in ages, from what he told me ; and the coldness of it. Weapons as the only decorations on the walls, this is a soldier room and it breaks my heart a little.

           Before I find the words I need to tell him how thankful I am to be invited here, he tugs on my towel, making it fall on the ground. His forehead lays on mine and his arms wrap me.

“Do you still want me baby ?” he whispers and I take him in my arms too, by the neck, as if we were dancing.

“Always” I state, arching my back to be even closer to him.

“I never brought a woman here…” he kisses me. “The bunker is a secret place…”

Saying that, he lets his hands roam my body, until he’s cupping my ass. Through his towel, I can feel his cock hardening slowly and my heart races at the thought of him wanting me.

“Dean…” I whine without realizing it.

“Let me take care of you” he whispers before he kisses me, this time a little eagerly.

           He walks back, never leaving my mouth, until his legs hit the bed and he sits. Before I straddle him, I open his towel and bite my lips, running my hands on his waist and broad shoulders.

           Our kisses are never ending. Our entire bodies move : hands on his hair, on his chest, hips rolling… But our mouths, they know their places ; until he starts kissing my jaw and my throat, making me lift my chin.

“You’re delicious baby…” he says licking a line on my pulse point.

           He suddenly escapes me, moving to lay on the bed, entirely naked, with still no ounce of coyness. Craving, I climb the bed on all four and come back to him, this time sitting on his crotch.

“Oh fuck” he mutters, catching my lips with his teeth.

With a cheeky smile I didn’t know I had in me, I grab his cock and suck a hickey on his now intact skin.

“Y/n” he moans, grabbing the sheets when I start pumping a little. “Wait…”

I don’t listen to him, and feel my juice dripping on my hand around his length.

“Oh fuck…” he whines. “Wait…”

When I start to lower my hips to line with him, his strong hands grab my waist, preventing me from sinking on him.

“Dean…” I whine, taking balance on his chest. “Why… I need you…”

“I know baby” he smiles.

And with a fast and sharp movement, he tugs at my thighs, until I’m keeling above his face.

“Wh- !” I gasp, looking at him under me with a sudden awkwardness.

No man ever did this to me, Aiden went down on me once or twice under the blanket, but this… I’m both shaking with embarrassment and dripping in anticipation. When a drop of my juice falls on his chin, my eyes widen.

“I’m so…” I start but his powerful arms catch my thighs firmly and force me to lower my hips. “AH ! JESUS ! FUCK !” I cry out when his plumb lips suck on me.

“D-Dean… This…”

But his tongue joins his perfect mouth and I start panting. I look up, unable to stare back at him for now. He finds my clit, circling it with tongue and lips, humming, and I put my two hands on the wall, letting sweat marks on the grey paint.

“Dean… Oh… Jeez… Dean… Dean…” I moan out of breath.

           I need more and my hips start to move a little, despite my efforts to stay still and not too close. But when I finally look down, and meet his lust full eyes, something snaps in me.

           Shaking like crazy, I sit on him and let go of the wall with one hand to grab his hair. He’s sweating and moaning, his mouth open, his tongue flat just caressing me a little while I desperately grind to him. I never thought I would have done something like that, but Dean… There is no complex or restraint with him. It’s just us. It’s just love.

           His right hand disappears from my thigh but I don’t need it anymore to stay on his face. I guess he touches himself because his eyes roll for a second, and I can feel him moving a little. I would love to see him, but I’m drowning in an intense pleasure.

           When my back arches, my clit touches his nose and I cry out, scratching his scalp.

“Fuck…” I whine out loud but the second whine doesn’t come out, my breath stuck in my lungs.

           The bomb in me explodes and I see stars. My body convulses and my head falls loudly against the wall. I can hear the pathetic whimpers coming out of my mouth and feel my juice soaking my thighs.

           After a few seconds, minutes maybe, I finally look down. Dean’s eyes are closed, and he’s breathing very deeply against me. He puts a light kiss on my over sensible entrance and I push on my thighs to put both my knees on the same side of his head.

“You hurt your head…” he whispers lazily with his eyes still shut.

“I’m okay…” I state, turning my head to see him.

           His hand is still around his cock and cum spattered his stomach. The vision makes me moan again.

           I bend to kiss him and wipe his face.

“Dean ?” I call with another kiss to make him open his eyes.

“That’s was not my plan” he smiles still out of breath. “It wasn’t supposed to make me come… I wanted to…”

I sit next to him like I have done a hundred times, only now, he’s not hurt. I run my finger on his chest and go down to touch his cum from the tip of my fingers. When I bring my index to my mouth, he groans. I taste him with a hint of pride, even if that can seem weird…

           A knock on the door. We ignore it, I’m too caught on my insane love for Dean, and he’s sitting to kiss me with passion.

“Dean ! Y/n !” Sam calls through the door. “A witch called me, Miss Griffin…”

My heart stops at the evocation of her name, Dean frowns.

“They told me Aiden is not dead and if Y/n doesn’t surrender, they will kill him, her mother and sister… I’m sorry… You… You have to come now.”

__________________________________

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[akhmenawkward]

Private Lessons: Tahno x Reader - Part 3

Request: If that’s not a problem, could you please make a part 3 of your Tahno x reader fanfic?

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

Tahno has been your probending teacher for a couple weeks now, and the results definitely showed. Your physique got stronger, your shots preciser and your reaction time quicker. A  very obvious improvement compared to a few weeks back. While that did help you in the pro bending matches, your sudden change in techniques didn’t go unnoticed, some people even recognizing your new moves.

After each match newspaper headlines started turning up, claiming you to be copying Tahno and trying to overgrow him with your firebending. While all the responses you got concerned you, Tahno seemed much less affected by them. Of course the press stalked him as 3well concerning the subject, but Tahno had other plans, even getting famous because of his quote “She’ll never grow bigger than me, because a copy will never outmatch the original.”

Of course, not only did you practice on your bending during his private lessons. Many things had happened at the training facility.

Whatever your relationship was with Tahno, it was clear that neither of you wanted to confirm anything to the outside world. What happened at his private lessons stayed there, no matter what.

But things started to escalate, especially when someone had taken notice of your schedule and figured they seemed to match with Tahno’s, which would explain your sudden change in technique and your rapid development over the past weeks.

You were cornered at a press conference, where you, Mako, Bolin and Korra were supposed to answer questions about your upcoming match, which would be the pro bending finals. Coincidently, against the White Falls Wolfbats.

Things were going as expected, most questions being about nerves and strategies, until you had pointed to one particular questioner, one who had been waiting for his turn with clammy hands and an innocent grin.

“What is your relationship with waterbender Tahno?”

Your eyebrow furrow at his imposing question, and while you don’t hesitate about your answer, the subject is brought into the light and the other people in the room seem intrigued by the topic as well.

“We’re rivals of course,” You answer professionally ”and I look up to his waterbending skills despite being a fire bender…”

“Is he the reason of your sudden improvement in your pro bending?”

“just recently I adjusted my training regimen to become stronger and quicker, I’m guessing those adjustments have paid of.”

Heat rises up to your cheeks, and a lady in the crowd raises her eyebrows when she notices, You desperately try to ignore her stare, but just for a second your eyes wander, curiosity taking the best of you, and she beams as your gazes meet. Immediately she rises from her seat, which makes your heart skip a beat. Unlike the previous man, she seems much more determined to get an answer out of you.

Her hand shoots into the air, and before you know it Mako is pointing in her direction.

“___ there are rumors about Tahno giving you private lessons? Tahno mentioned in a previous interview that he doesn’t do things for free.” She waits expectantly and you blink in confusion at her words. “Excuse me, I don’t know what you’re trying to-”

“Are you offering him sexual services for him to teach you? If yes, how many times have you shared the bed?”

“W-What? I’m not saying that-”

“You’re also not denying it.”

The room erupts as she continues, and at the point the whole interview seems like a daze, Mako, Bolin and Korra try to stop the sudden interrogation from escalating, but people are jumping out of their chairs like pro bending fanatics who have just seen an incredible knockout.

The chaos ensues, and soon enough the four of you are escorted out of the room, the press too invading to continue a proper interview.

Glancing back over your shoulder, you eye the woman who had questioned you, however her eyes are already averted towards the following team.

The White Falls Wolfbats enter the room. Their aura impressive and their looks sharp. Once again the room erupts into a fit of questions, all shouting over one another, trying to get some sort of answer ut of Tahno himself. You see Tahno raising his hand, to which the room simmers down. He takes a seat, sighs deeply before narrowing his already lidded gaze towards the crowd.

“If I hear one question about my relationship with that pathetic excuse of a fire bender, I am leaving this room.”

———————————————————————————————————–

“You didn’t have to call me pathetic though.”

Tahno hums at your words, too focused on the way your leg curls around his to actually hear what you’re saying. His chest still heaves, and with deep breaths he tries to control his panting. “I thought you were into that.” He jokes, but the comical part op his statement remains hidden for you. You change positions, to where you are straddling him and he has no way of ignoring your attempts to talk to him about what happened. Not just even about what happened, but also about what is going on between the two of you.

“I’m being serious, you didn’t have to say that.”

“You want me to apologize?”

“I want you to understand that it hurt me.”

He sighs, and unduly deep exhale that tells you he sort of understands. He as well, changes positions and now you’re seated opposite one another, your legs crossed while his remains stretched out on either side of you.

“I didn’t think you to be so sensitive, especially in a world like this.” He says, probably referring to the pro-bending scene you took part in. At least, that’s what you guessed him to be talking about. His assumption has you frown, and you’re confronted about the fact that the two of you don’t actually know each other at all. You accepted one another when training and other shenanigans, but when it came to an actual conversation, there’s seems to be a distance between you that goes on forever.

“I wouldn’t call myself sensitive, I think you’re just not seeing things from my perspective.

“And why would I want to?” He scoffs, and blows his messy fringe out of his face. His lackluster way of speech doesn’t amuse you, but mentioning that now was only going to escalate things. “Because you care about me?” You tell him with sarcasm, the tone strengthened by the way your arms cross over your chest.

“Who said anything about caring?”

This makes you laugh, genuinely.  It was a response that perfectly fit with Tahno. He was one to talk, always seeking your eyes and checking if you’re watching or hearing what he’s saying. Always looking for your approval while acting like he didn’t need it. He was one of the biggest hypocrites you’ve ever met. “You care, Tahno. Don’t bother lying about it. I see how you watch me, take my hand, seek my validation…” You tell him, raising your eyebrows and place a hand on his thigh. Two fingers walk up his leg, then his bare torso to eventually tap against his chest. “You even offered to eat me out first, that’s something I never expected from you-” Before you manage to finish your sentence, Tahno presses his palm against your mouth, shushing you with the tiniest hint of a blush on his cheeks. “I get it….” He starts, seemingly deep in thoughts, but you can never really tell with Tahno, a person who hides his emotions like a pro. “Maybe I do care.”

“Duh.” You answer, still muffled by his palm which he then removes. Even Tahno couldn’t deny his feelings towards you, and if he did you wouldn’t believe a second of it. He caught himself looking forward to seeing you, feeling eager to have your skin back against his. Even smiling to himself thinking about the way you snap cheeky remarks at him. Slowly but surely he was falling for you, and it was more delightful than he had expected it to be.

“I know you hate to admit it, but you like me just as much as I like you, and while you’d never tell me, I don’t need your confirmation to see the way you look at me…”

Ironically, while you ramble your reasoning, Tahno’s gaze is stuck on your features. His pupils dilate at the way your lips move, delicately forming words, sentences, slipping from your mouth like the spilling of fine wine he wishes to catch.

His thumb raises and presses against your lower lip, pausing your small speech. Your eyes find his, and a shiver shoots up your spine at the way his gaze seems to shimmer. He’s leaning forward and fitting his lips against yours, gently, as f he’s afraid of being too forward. Nonetheless you relax under the touch, softly exhale against his skin and eyelids fluttering shut at the gesture.

His touch sends sparks towards your stomach, and it gets you all giddy as his hands grab yours and force rosy cheeks upon your face. He pulls away, calmly, eyes inspecting your tranquil face as he leans back. Flickering over your dainty nose and flushing cheeks, leaving a brush of his lips against yours before resting back against the pillows completely. Eventually you open your eyes as well and catch him smiling up at you. Your blush increases and you cover your cheeks with your palms before chuckling to yourself. “I don’t know why I’m so…flustered.”

“You talk too much…” Tahno tells you as if that’s the answer to your statement. It really isn’t, but perhaps you shouldn’t think things through as excessively as you usually do. You feel his fingertips slip between yours, warm, smooth from bending, and at that moment you decide that soft careless Tahno is your favorite. “Of course I care, you know that, right?” He asks, and you nod down at him, mind still in a daze from his mellow touches. He mumbles something in your direction that gets lost within the air between you, but whatever it was you couldn’t imagine it being so important. Instead you hum, sudden fatigue making everything hazy, and you fit yourself between his legs, face resting upon his bare chest as you curl up against his warm body. Tahno rolls his eyes, but can’t help but wrap his arms around you as he feels your exposed skin against his.

Luckily you hadn’t heard what he was trying to say, exhaustion suddenly numbing your senses, and Tahno was grateful for this. However, if not tonight, he’d ask you again tomorrow, or the day after. As many times as he needed before you could answer him.

“Won’t you stay with me, ___?”

[megalony]

A big family- Part 9

Here is the next part of my dad! Ben Hardy series which I hope you all will like. There is a lot of angst in this part.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @luvborhap @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez @jonesyaddiction @rogahs-drowse @milanosaurus @httpfandxms

Series taglist: @writeroutoftime @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @hardzzellos

Summary: Ben and (Y/n) have three daughters together with their youngest not even being one year old yet. But their family is about to get bigger when they find out they’re pregnant again.

Series masterlist

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ben let his eyes fall closed as he leaned over and pressed his lips to (Y/n)'s forehead. Resting his hand to the back of her neck, brushing his thumb over her skin as his other hand went to rest over her stomach. He kept his lips pressed to her temple for a while, feeling just how bad her temperature was getting as her skin was like burning coals against his lips.

(Y/n) gripped his arm tightly as she leaned into his touch, feeling the contrast of the cold air circulating through the room compared to her burning skin and the heat that Ben always seemed to radiate. The moment the doctor managed to stop the bleeding (Y/n) started to burn up and Ben could see she was getting a rather bad fever by this point but they couldn't do anything about it.

A fever was just a natural response to the body being ill, all they could do was turn on the fan in the room and lower the temperature to make sure her fever didn't get to a dangerous point.

"I- I don't like it." (Y/n) breathed through the words that came out more as whispers in the wind. She felt like she was slowly slipping into a void that would have no way out. Her body was burning and patches of red were appearing on her skin from how she was burning like she was sitting on fire and her stomach was hurting so much.

"It won't be for much longer, sweetheart." Ben brushed his thumb over her cheek as he tilted his head so he was looking at her.

Ben had been right in his suspicions, the placenta had moved again even though there was no cause and (Y/n) had done nothing to warrant this sudden action. They had managed to stop the bleeding but they couldn't just send (Y/n) home again or keep her in the hospital for observation because the placenta had moved too low. It was causing the baby's heartbeat to drop and her to become distressed so the only option was to push for premature labour.

Labour had been induced and (Y/n)'s waters had broken, they were simply waiting for the contractions to become more frequent now. But (Y/n) was in more pain now and it was clear that her pain was only going to increase. Her stomach was in knots and her back was breaking, when the contractions hit they simply crippled her into agony.

"I want her to be alright." (Y/n) closed her eyes as she gritted her teeth, absentmindedly digging her nails into Ben's arm when a contraction flowed through her body, tearing her muscles and stretching them to their limits.

They were over a month early, she was going to be born premature and that came with all sorts of risks. She could have underdeveloped lungs or brain or any organ. She may not breathe when she was born, she could be stillborn if she became any more distressed. There were so many things that could go wrong and (Y/n) knew they wouldn't be so lucky as to have nothing go wrong. This pregnancy just seemed to come with all of the problems that they could think of.

"She will be. When she's here they can help her, they'll make sure she's okay." As bad as it seemed, their girl had a better chance of being okay if she was born now. There were so many things that the doctors could do to help her, they could put her in an incubator, on a respirator to help her breathe. There were medications they could give her and steroids if her organs were underdeveloped. They could do all sorts to make sure that their baby was okay and could grow and develop.

Ben tipped his head down to rest on the bed when he moved back so he was sitting in the chair beside the bed. He rested his forehead on his arm as his other hand was entwined with (Y/n)'s, allowing her to squeeze his hand whenever the pain got too much.

The other three times they had been in this position, Ben had been jumping and jittering from adrenaline and nerves. He had been so excited for when his girls were born, to be able to see them and hold them and create that bond that he was always so desperate to have. But this time he wasn't feeling that rush of adrenaline, he was feeling overwhelming anxiety and fear. He wasn't wishing for his girl to be born right now because he knew it was going to cause complications and he had an idea that he wouldn't be holding her for a few days yet.

This wasn't how it was meant to happen.

Tilting her head to the side, (Y/n) let her eyes fall closed as they were becoming too heavy to open. It felt like all the pain had suddenly washed away like it was a bad dream she had just left behind but in its place was an awful churning feeling.

(Y/n) felt like her body was becoming heavier and weighed down and her head was becoming stuffed with cotton wool making it feel clogged up. A groan passed through her lips as she released the tension building up in her muscles, allowing her limbs to rest against the mattress as she didn't hold the energy to move at all. It was as if someone was slowly shutting down her brain and it was taking its time in turning off.

"Baby... you okay?" Ben lightly tugged on her hand to try and gain her attention when she groaned but didn't move or squeeze his hand.

He felt his heart hammering against his ribs when (Y/n)'s head lolled to the side against the pillow as if she had just fallen asleep. But Ben knew with the pain circulating through her system, (Y/n) was very unlikely to just fall asleep in the middle of it.

"(Y/n)?" His voice sounded rather authoritative as if he was ordering her to wake up as he pushed himself to his feet so he could sit back on the edge of the bed next to her. Ben moved his free hand to rest on the side of her face, gently turning her head so she was looking at him but she didn't open her eyes. All he got was a small murmur that sounded like a groan, but he couldn't be sure.

He gently let her head rest back against the pillow so he could reach out and press the emergency button. Whatever was happening, Ben knew it wasn't anything good. His head snapped to look at the door when a midwife suddenly walked in, her eyes scanning over (Y/n) to try and see what the problem was as she moved to stand on (Y/n)'s other side.

"What's happened?"

"S-she just suddenly went limp." Ben shook his head as he didn't quite know how to explain it because he didn't understand what happened. (Y/n) couldn't have just fallen asleep and Ben doubted that she had just fainted right in the middle of all the pain she was feeling. And she had made some kind of coherent noise that made him sure she was still at least partially awake.

The midwife gently pulled (Y/n)'s eyelid up so she could shine a light in her eye, seeing that her pupils were constricting meaning she hadn't fainted or suddenly fallen unconscious.

"(Y/n), squeeze my hand if you can hear me?" The midwife asked as she took (Y/n)'s hand in her own. She felt the slightest pressure but it was very minimal suggesting that she didn't hold much energy or strength at the moment. Ben watched the midwife let go of her hand, a certain look on her face that showed this clearly was not a good sign.

Moving around, the midwife took hold of some stickers and turned on the monitor Ben remembered had checked the baby's heartbeat when they first arrived. Almost as soon as she turned it on the noise screeched through their ears causing Ben to cringe. The monitor showed the heartbeat lines in red and the numbers beside it were steadily dropping meaning that something was definitely wrong with their baby.

Almost immediately after they started to hear the baby's distressed and plummeting heartbeat, (Y/n)'s heartbeat started to drop too. It wasn't as quickly falling or consistent as the baby's but it was going down.

Ben didn't get a chance to ask the midwife what was happening because the moment she pulled back the covers to see if (Y/n) was fully dilated or not, the answer was right in front of them both. The bedsheets were drenched in dark crimson blood that looked black against the pearl white sheets that were now stained.

The midwife typed something into her pager before she pressed her hand to (Y/n)'s temple to check her temperature which was suddenly getting worse. Beads of sweat were glistening on her skin as Ben watched her try desperately to open her eyes before her eyes seemed to turn to the back of her head which lolled against the pillow. A cooling pack was pressed against her neck and another few were placed on her pulse points before an oxygen mask was placed over her lips and nose.

Ben didn't realise he had tears falling from his eyes until they started to blur his vision as two doctors hurried into the room and told him to step back. He leaned himself against the wall so he didn't have to hold himself up as he watched them fuss around and give (Y/n) too many injections for him to comprehend.

He had to lift his eyes to look at the monitors, his brain feeling like it was being shaken as he tried his hardest to work out whether it was his wife or his unborn daughter whose heartbeat had just dropped too low.

It was (Y/n)'s.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ben wiped his eyes and nose on his sleeve before he rested his arms on his knees, leaning over to the point he almost had his head between his knees. He felt his knee jittering and wavering as it had far too much adrenaline rushing through it to stay still. He sniffed loudly, trying to gain enough air to breathe but his lungs weren't expanding nearly enough to intake the oxygen he needed.

They had let him in the operating room but they wouldn't let him get anywhere near close to (Y/n) like they did for other fathers during C-sections. But then again, Ben didn't know if it would have been the best idea for him to be so close to what was happening in case he screamed or lashed out. They had directed him to a seat near the wall and he simply slumped down and let the chair hold his weight for him.

A frown pulled at Ben's lips as his brows narrowed causing his eyes to crease as he watched the scene unfold in front of him. He had managed to understand the doctor earlier when he had said that a C-section was needed because (Y/n) couldn't continue with labour in her state. She had fallen unconscious, she was in no state to wake up enough to be able to start pushing and the baby could be stillborn by the time they could get labour started again.

He couldn't make out what the doctors or the nurses were saying, their words were too quiet and rushed for his brain to comprehend as he seemed to have a second delay in processing everything.

What Ben did understand was that the monitor that was checking (Y/n)'s heartbeat suddenly stopped. It was no longer reading numbers below forty like it had done earlier which had been a bad sign in itself. There were no numbers displayed on the screen, there were simply red lines that were running along the screen along with such a screeching, siren sound that made Ben feel like he was going deaf.

(Y/n) couldn't do this to him.

She couldn't leave him now, he couldn't look after three girls without her, let alone four if their next girl was even okay after this. (Y/n) had to be okay, Ben needed all his girls in his life to be able to cope and carry on.

Ben found his body was now on lockdown, not allowing him to move a single muscle as his throat tightened so no words or groans could escape. He watched one of the doctors get the crash cart wheeled over to (Y/n)'s side to try and restart her heart again, but Ben's own heart constricted when another doctor shook his head.

"Wait, the fetus still has a heartbeat."

Ben hated that word. It wasn't a rude term and it wasn't cruel or wrong, it was simply not the word Ben would choose. That was his girl, his baby girl, calling her anything else made it seem foreign to Ben.

A knife cut straight through Ben's heart at the thoughts he found himself mulling over. If he was the surgeon or in charge, that wouldn't have been what he would have chosen to do. No matter how much Ben loved their unborn girl, she wasn't here yet. (Y/n) was. She was here and her heart needed to be started again. It was always the mother's health before the child's and right now Ben wanted them to help (Y/n) before even thinking about his girl.

Ben might just be able to comprehend losing his youngest girl, but he couldn't lose (Y/n) at any cost.

Ben couldn't believe it.

It was as if some sort of magic had been performed right before his eyes that he would never have thought of. The moment the surgeon had Ben's fourth girl in his hands, (Y/n)'s heartbeat started again. The crash cart wasn't needed but a shot of adrenaline was in order to make sure her heart didn't flatline again. Ben held his breath as he looked at the newborn that he wouldn't have tried to save if he were the doctor, seeing that she didn't even fit in both his hands properly with how small she was.

His eyes followed the doctor who was holding his baby girl, his ears trained on listening to (Y/n)'s heartbeat that was increasing. Even though her heartbeat still sounded so frail and broken, it was there and Ben didn't have to worry about that for the moment.

His emerald green eyes watched as his girl hadn't moved since the moment the surgeon had taken hold of her. She hadn't made a sound either which made Ben worry that if she had such a low heartbeat moments before she was born, maybe it had given up. Maybe her heart didn't have the strength to keep going with how low it had been before. Maybe the trauma was too much for her frail body to go through and it had shut down.

Ben started to count under his breath, though he didn't know what good counting the seconds was going to do for him. He counted up to one minute which felt like on hour without his baby moving or taking in a breath and he continued to count though his own breaths were becoming shorter.

Just as he reached the second minute that had ticked by with no results, Ben's chest quaked as he choked on his breath when he heard his girl finally take a breath. Knowing that both his girls were now being taken care of and that they were alive and breathing, Ben allowed his eyes to dip down and look at the watch strapped to his left wrist.

Two in the morning.

Suddenly, Ben's birthday didn't feel like such a happy occasion anymore.

[an-ambivalent]

Oath Of Desires: Seven

Synopsis: [Yandere! Jungkook x Reader x Taehyung] [Poly AU]

It had only been them three for a long time. Not one person more, not one person less – just Jungkook, Taehyung and [Name].

Jungkook was elated when Taehyung and [Name] told him that they had become a couple. He literally could not have been happier.

They were his favourite couple, and he loved them both…. A little too much.

When there was a hindrance in Taehyung and [Name]’s relationship which caused them to fall apart, Jungkook was distraught. Afterwards, when he realized the depths of his love for his ‘friends,’ Jungkook made an oath of his dark desires – he was going to do whatever it took to get them back together. And this time, he was also going to become part of their relationship.

Warning: As this story contains yandere themes, the characters display behaviors that can be triggering or uncomfortable to read. Read at your own risk. This work is purely fiction. I do not believe any of the mentioned members would display any sort of this behaviour irl.

                                             ___________

He was full of desires, and his obsession was a burning fire. He envied others of their joy, and his desperate need To become a part of that, always led him to destroy.

                                             ___________

The smell of the air around them was musky, and  the place they were in, damp. An overwhelming amount of dark spots buzzed behind [Name]’s eyelids as she woke up grudgingly. An intense and severely painful headache accompanied the rest of the pain in her body that was caused by it stiffness. There were also pain in all the places where Jungkook had hit her in order to prevent her from fighting against him, before he had knocked her unconscious. The throbbing in her head worsened when she opened her eyes, and the over saturated light of the dull lamp that hung above them, shone in her eyes a bit too brightly. As a result, a groan left her lips, and she immediately closed her eyes. Then, after a few seconds when it did not feel as bad anymore, [Name] opened them again and winced. Her pupils adjusted to the light eventually. 

With eyes widened, and not being able to make sense of what was going on, [Name] mindless looked around in order to observe her surroundings. It was something out of a thriller horror movie; the setting of the  scene they were in, was still meant to be kept mysterious in order to keep both the audience, and the characters guessing, and on their toes. [Name] noted that they appeared to be underground in sort of basement; and its space seemed to be relatively big. That was a mere guess though as aside from the corner she was in, that was poorly lit, the remaining of it was completely embedded in darkness. So, it was difficult to see what was there, much-less pinpoint the exact details. [Name] was not going to receive the chance to observer her surroundings in full detail anyway, because of the drama that was about to ensue. [Name] tried to move her arms and legs, and stand up from the sitting position she was forced to be in. However, she could barely budged a muscle, much less stand up. Ever the determined person that she was though, she did not give up. She continued to struggle in her bindings in hoped that she could do something to get out of them. Her adamant resilience to prosper, and try to get out of her extremely tight bindings no matter what, eventually got too tiring to watch for Taehyung to watch any longer. So, he thought he would spare her the struggle he wished he had been spared from. “It’s useless,” He started loudly, causing [Name] to halt in between her struggle, and turn towards him with wide eyes. “It’s not going to work, no matter how hard you tried to shuffle and get them off. Trust me, I already tried,” He said tiredly, and [Name] furrowed her eyebrows. She looked at Taehyung up and down in order examine him and noticed that he was in the same position as her — completely tied up in a chair, and immobile. Unlike her though, Taehyung, if she were to describe his state in the simplest terms; he looked absolutely tragic. His skin was slightly crusty, his hair was disheveled, and hung down his face in an odd fashion, and there were big and hideous eye bags underneath his swollen lower lid folds.  He was slouching weakly in his chair, and there was barely any life in his eyes. The sight of him was so appalling that [Name] could not even stand to stare at him. This, mixed with the anger, hurt, betrayal, sorrow, and other feelings she harboured due to Taehyung cheating on her,  she could not bear to look at him. So, as a response, [Name] merely turned her head away from Taehyung. This, of course, did not sit well with Taehyung. He was already feeling down mentally, and emotionally — extremely distressed, angry and scared due to the things he had to endure from Jungkook over the last few days. After seeing [Name], he did not want her to be here and suffer the way he had. However, seeing her, after what he was put through in only a few days, had filled him with hope, and some reassurance that he was not going to be alone anymore. Just like they always had, Taehyung thought they could get through this together, and he would tell her what to do in order to avoid the starvation, dehydration, and other cruelties Jungkook forced on him because he would not do what he wanted. There was so much Taehyung was betting on her, and he had been thinking of surviving through this together with her so much, that he had completely forgotten all about the cheating instance, and how [Name] would be feeling. Frustration built in him, and he snarled. “So what? I’m not even worth talking to? Is that how it’s going to be now, [Name]?” Taehyung hissed, and the aggression etched in his voice rubbed [Name] the wrong way. Carrying her own battle scars, and an emotional baggage to match with it that had been ruining her lately, she was quick to become aggravated, and act out in emotion just like Taehyung. “Don’t pin this on me. You have no right to be angry at me when you’re the one who cheated and ruined our relationship in the first place,” She snapped. “Are you serious? You’re still clinging onto that? Do you have any idea about the danger of the situation you are in? You should be counting yourself lucky that you have me here, and I’m willing to help you—“ 

“What do you mean still clinging onto that?! You cheated on me just last week! Seriously, what the hell is wrong with you Taehyung? Why are you being so cruel and insensitive  to me—“ [Name] cried, however, she stopped in the middle of her last enquiry. This was because the entrance to the basement they were in was unlocked open. There were sounds of many locks being unlocked and discarded, which had caused [Name] and Taehyung to stop amidst their argument.

Once the entrance opened fully, in all of his glory, Jungkook walked in. Subsequently to his entrance, he shut the door behind him, and as he turned towards Taehyung and [Name], he wore a deep frown on his face, and shook his head in disappointment.

“I heard you two fighting from upstairs. You’re not suppose to be fighting,” He stated, and displeasure was laced in his voice.

While Taehyung had become somewhat familiar to the environment Jungkook had forced him in, Jungkook’s statement was still confusing to him, and by extension, it was obviously confusing to [Name]. However, she brushed that aside in order to focus on the bigger problem she and Taehyung were in -- she wanted answers.

“What the hell is the meaning of this Jungkook?! Is this some sort of sick joke? What do you think you’re doing tying us up and keeping us in this-- disgusting room?” [Name] snapped.

Instead of receiving the reply that she wanted, Jungkook grinned widely at them. There as insanity etched in his grin, and sickening excitement illuminating his irises.

“We’ll all be together now,” Jungkook started, before he giggled childishly to himself. “At long last… I’ll.. I’ll finally know love. Someone, you two, are going to love, and share it with me. Share all of it with me! I want— I want it all! The kisses you shared, the intimacy, the affection, so called sacrifices parents make for their child’s sake — everything they do for their child’s sake, I want it directed at me. You’re going to get back together, love each other, and then you’re going to love me too. Whatever you do, your love for me should be the reason why you do it. The thought and the intention for my well-being should be what drives it. Everything you do, will be out of love for me,” Jungkook vented, before his giggling turned into maniac low chuckling.

He was crazy — something had always been off about him, that much Taehyung and [Name] knew. However, they had been oblivious to how insane he truly was. And now, seeing the reality of it starting to come into fruition, was downright petrifying.

Taehyung and [Name] exchanged a look and there was absolute fear written over [Name]’s face. It was an expression that Taehyung had not seen her wear in a long time, but an expression he was too familiar with. The sight of it broke his heart, and reminded him of the times of when he used to always take care of her, and make sure that her source of fear would disappear.

It hurt; everything hurt. His actions of betrayal and insecurities felt like it was constricting around his trachea, and suffocating him. However, it was not time for Taehyung’s pity party anymore. They were in a serious situation, and he needed to protect [Name].

Building up his willpower, Taehyung forced the mental drainage he felt from the lack of food and water, and pain Jungkook had inflicted on him at the back of his mind, and acted on his anger towards Jungkook instead. He always the best at that — acting impulsively on his rage. So, why not now? Especially, when he needed to in order to demand the answers they seeked, and express their disgust towards their captor.

“You’re fucking mental, you know that don’t you? What makes you think we’ll do what you want and not the opposite?” Taehyung sneered, and the aggression in his tone caused Jungkook to halt amidst his villainous laughter moment. Jungkook snapped his gaze towards his tied victims lovers, before his lips formed into a saccharine smile.

He took out a big knife that he had been hiding in the back pocket of his pants.

“You don’t have a choice in the matter my darling~” Jungkook cooed, as he tilted his head innocently, and started spinning the big knife in his hand like it was a mere toy for him.

“You know Tae, you were always the one who hurt others without caring. First [Name], and then me. You’ve always been the more selfish and uncooperative one so I think I’ll start with discipling you first,” A pause, and Jungkook contemplated his words for a moment, before he shrugged. “Or maybe, for everytime you upset me, I’ll touch [Name] in front of you. I thought about hurting her, but she doesn’t deserve that yet. And everytime I touch her, you can just sit there, and wither in pain as we enjoy ourselves. If you want to enjoy yourself too in our playtime, then you better be a good boy, okay?”