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prsfphone · 1 year

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take me down to your paradise | s.b. x reader

word count: 2468

warnings: nsfw, smut, very brief mentions of drug use, mentions of alcohol, penetrative sex, oral sex (f receiving), dirty talk, classic english rockstar sirius (he’s hot)

a/n: part 1 of 2!

“she's a silver lining climbing on my desire... and satisfaction feels like a distant memory... and i can't help myself...”

The view is like you’re up in the sky, sitting on par with the clouds, and you don’t know what you’re doing. There’s a rockstar—a certified platinum-selling, messy-haired, black-nailed, egotistical rockstar—in the bed somewhere behind you and you’re wearing his shirt. It smells like him, too. Cigarettes and sweat and the expensive cologne. You’re sure you smell like that now, too.

You glance back at him over your shoulder, the rising sun setting your silhouette aflame as you gently press the pads of your fingertips into the bruises on your neck. His mop of black hair is stark against the pristine white bedding and you pick out the bridge of his nose, half-buried in a pillow nicer than you’d ever known existed before. You like Sirius’ nose, the bump halfway down that is shaped like a diamond from the front, the upturned end that gives a snobbish air to an already arrogant face. The urge to brush the hair away from his face just to admire him more easily arises and you hold yourself back. You stay firmly put on the white chaise, sitting on your hands. You stare at him still, though. You like his tattoos, the patchwork of them marring the alabaster of his skin. You’ve traced them more times than you can count, the thin, delicate lines and the thicker, aged ones. You’re particularly fond of the victory laurels just underneath his collarbones and the pile of skulls on his inner left forearm, just below the bend of his elbow.

On the insides of each finger he has roman numerals, what you’ve guessed are dates. You haven’t asked and Sirius certainly hasn’t offered, but you remember asking him about the bandage over a fresh tattoo on his ring finger the second time you ever saw him. Sirius had only waved you off—My mum’s birthday—but the year is too recent and sometimes you still look at it and imagine, secretly and deep inside yourself, that it has something to do with you.

Sirius gives a moan, a sound of deep upset that he has to meet yet another day with clothes on, and buries his face fully into the plush pillow. His dark voice reaches you in an unintelligible garble. “Use your words,” you mock him with a quirk of your brow, hiding your smile in your bent knee.

He turns dramatically onto his back, tossing the blankets back as he goes. You try not to look at him. He’s naked, staring at the ceiling, and his lovely, tattooed thighs are begging to be looked at. “I said,” he enunciates in that snobbish accent you wish you didn’t love, “Staring is creepy.”

You sigh. “It’s romantic.”

“That why you get all fidgety when I look at you, sweetheart?”

Your face feels hot, and it only worsens when Sirius’ gaze finally deigns to land on you. “It’s not romantic when you look at me,” you hedge.

He props himself up on his forearms, lazy and with his hair like a lion’s mane about his face. “You’re hurting my feelings, Y/N.”

“It’s true!”

“Well, what is it when I look at you then?”

“You look at me like you’re trying to undress me with your eyes.”

A slow smile stretches his lips. “Come here.”

You can’t help your answering smile and you shuffle towards him, stand at the edge of the bed, gazing down at him, but he doesn’t allow it for long. No, Sirius wraps an arm around your hips and pulls you, clumsy and demanding, next to him in the bed. He buries his face into your neck, running his nose up and down, breathing deep. “Y’smell like champagne.”

You roll your eyes, curl your fingers tight into his hair when he licks a stripe up to your jaw. You stretch out against him. “Maybe if someone hadn’t sprayed champagne everywhere like an idiot.” Sirius tends to get overzealous after shows and you’re not entirely sure he isn’t coked up out of his mind sometimes.

He presses his mouth against your pulse and it stutters. “Didn’t say I didn’t like it, love.”

You squirm at the nickname. Sirius has learned well by now your weakness for his accent and all the little English quirks he possesses. Knows exactly what he’s doing to you when he calls you love. It makes you want to melt. It makes you want to jump his bones. And when he cups your face between his two big hands, presses his lips, hard, to your forehead and calls you his Lovie? It’s almost too much to bear.

Your digits loosen in his hair and his hands find your thighs, manage to roll you up to straddle his thighs. You’re a little dizzy when you finally settle into the new position. His grin is feral and heat blooms through you. Especially when your bare cunt presses against his throbbing cock, laying thick and heavy against his abdomen.

Sirius licks his lips. His callused hands knead your ass. “Climb up here, pretty baby,” and you know what he means. “Wanna taste that pretty little pussy.” Jittery, excited, you shift your way up to hover over his mouth. You jump slightly when his arms band around either thigh, pulling you apart for him. He runs his nose from entrance to clit and you gasp, grabbing for the plush headboard to steady yourself. “Sensitive baby,” he murmurs.

“You just like to tease me,” you accuse as he continues you avoid giving you any friction; Sirius scrapes his teeth along the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs, trailing the action with his tongue, smiling against your skin as you flinch when he gets near to where you so desperately want him. “Sadist,” you breathe accusatorily.

Sirius releases one thigh to bring his fingers to your cunt. “How do you suppose?” You open your mouth to answer and just as you do, Sirius plunges two fingers into you. It’s an awkward angle but you curl inwards on yourself all the same and Sirius doesn’t give you any chance at all to recover. His tongue laps at your clit and you bite down on your lip so hard you think it might bleed. But anything is better than giving him the satisfaction of having you a sobbing mess by his hands already.

He withdraws his fingers and you rock against him, trying to replace the loss. Sirius is quick to placate you with his tongue, sucking and swirling, and you forget to worry whether or not you’re suffocating him with your weight.

He pulls away. “You gonna answer me, love, or you just gonna use me for my incredible body?”

Is he really doing this to you right now? Of course he is. You try to move against his mouth but his hands hold you firmly still. You scowl and push the hair out of your face. “The second one.”

“And you say ‘m the sadist.”

“You are!”

He hums, drags his hands up and down your thighs. “How do you suppose?” He repeats.

You make a disgruntled sound that you refuse to acknowledge is a whine. “You know how.”

“Want you to tell me.”

“And I want to come.”

He flicks his brows. “Shouldn’t you know how this works by now? Hmm?”

“I could just sit down until you suffocate.”

Sirius snorts. “Think I could escape before that happened.” He gives a slow, teasing lick to your clit and your hands tighten on the headboard. “Tell me how horrible I am to you.”

“You are the worst, most evil man I’ve ever met.”

Another lick. “My cock has never been harder.”

“You talk so much,” you sigh, staring down at him. He bites down lightly on your bud and holds you fast when you try to jump away. “You leave me covered in hickeys. Constantly. I’ve spent a fortune on concealer.” For that, his fingers dig in to your doughy flesh harder. “And you tease me. Endlessly.”

“You like it.”

“Not this much! At least I—God!—at least I don’t get off on it.”

“Liar,” he nips your clit again and you shudder.

“I think you could come just from teasing me, Sirius. From listening to me beg. You enjoy my suffering.”

He doesn’t answer this time, only buries his face in your cunt and pulls your weight down onto him. He doesn’t let up. It’s dizzying, just how fast he brings you to the edge then. “Sirius,” you’re chanting, “Please, please.” But he pulls away all the same. Grinning wolfishly. You almost cry as the orgasm fizzles away.

He lets go of his grip around your thighs. “Sit on my cock.” You slide down, lifting yourself up, prepared to sink down to him—desperate for it, for the stretch, the fullness—when he tuts. “Ah ah, pretty girl. Gotta get me wet first.”

You roll your eyes. You know what he wants. He wants you to put his dick in your mouth, swirl your tongue around his head and kiss up the shaft the way you know he loves. He doesn’t deserve it, you think, and lean down to let some spit dribble onto his cock from the tip of your tongue and pump him a few times in your fist. Up and down. Once more. Sirius is staring at you through half-lidded eyes all the same, lit up in the early morning sun.

You line him up and sink down slowly, luxuriating in every thick inch. His hands meet your hips, not pushing, but stabilizing, and you hold tight to his wrists as you live through the barrage of sensation. When Sirius is fully sheathed in you, you rock a little, whimpering as the head of his cock brushes against your sweet spot. And you must squeeze around him because Sirius groans, loud.

After a few moments of simply sitting there on him, legs spread around his hips, your spit-wet hand smearing against his taut abdomen, you begin to rock. Small circular movements, back and forth, rubbing your clit against his pelvis. Your nails scrape down his skin and Sirius hisses through clenched teeth. His head is kicked back. His hands start pushing now, grabby and mean and you slide down, hands braced lightly around the column of his throat as you lift up and fall back down and Sirius looks like he might come right here and now. Your breath falls out in small puffs of air every time you pull him back in and you lean down further and unsteadily for a kiss.

Sirius laughs, indulges you, something feral in his eyes. “This is pathetic.”

You slow to toss your hair out of your face but it comes right back, a curtain around your heads. You know you’ve barely done anything, but your thighs and hips are burning with the effort. “You’re mean.”

Sirius rolls his eyes at you. “You’re such a useless little pillow princess.” He uses his hands around your waist to flip your positions, pushing you down into the bed. Your eyes are rounded at the suddenness and Sirius puts a hand on either of your thighs, pushing them up and over his shoulders, settling himself comfortably there between your legs.

“You made me this way!” You accuse, though the bravado is wasted as he starts fucking you. He’s not gentle about it. Sirius hardly ever is. He likes it fast and rough, he likes when you lie there and “Take it so good for me, princess.” You reach down to find some part of him to hold onto, fingers grasping. You’re not sure what you latch onto as he thrusts so hard you think your teeth might chatter. Later, you’ll think to be embarrassed about the obnoxious way the headboard is slamming into the wall, about the wet squelching sounds as flesh meets flesh, about the moans you don’t have the presence of mind to think about holding in or quieting.

“So spoiled,” Sirius taunts. “Need me to do all the work, hmm, love?” You want to make a retort—something about how it is entirely his fault you are this way. It would fall on deaf ears, though. You like it this way and so does Sirius and you cry out when Sirius shifts the angle by leaning down to get a better look at your pleasure-stricken face. “Feels good, dunnit?”

“Sir-i-us,” his name comes out in syllables.

“You want something from me, Y/N? Use your words.”

You struggle for them for a beat. “Harder. Make me come.”

“Think ‘m a bad influence on you, baby.” But he obliges. He must be feeling generous this morning, to not tease you terribly. Glee sparks in his eyes as he gives you all he has; deep, punishing thrusts that force him to keep dragging you back down to him and leave the sheets in complete disarray. You’re so close it aches and the slight taste of pain his thrusts give you sends you spiralling. You tear Sirius down with you—his head falls in the juncture of your neck and he bites down as he pumps ropes of come into you.

You lay there for a moment. You feel ridiculous spread open this way. “Sirius, I want to put my legs down.”

He pulls himself up and your neck burns. He’s like a fucking vampire. He kneels, carefully unhooking your legs from over his shoulders, placing them delicately on the bed on either side of his own thighs. He rubs his warm hands up and down your legs. “Feel okay, lovie?”

Blood rushes to your cheeks and you cover your face with your hands. Like that will help. “Stop that,” you whine.

Sirius flops down beside you. “Why? Know you like it.” You don’t have an answer for him. How could you even begin to explain to him why you’re blushing like crazy? You like him. You know he doesn’t like you half as much. Sirius Black is all you think of and you know you’re just a groupie he likes to fuck.

Your mood plummets. You sit up and swing your legs over the side of the stupidly large bed, pretending you don’t notice the displeased look on his face. “I have a friend who lives in the city,” you tell him conversationally. “We’re gonna do lunch today.” You dig through your suitcase, messy, on the floor for fresh clothes. You desperately need to do laundry. Sirius’ come is leaking down your thighs.

He comes up behind you, wraps his arms around you. “Let’s have a shower, yeah?”

You glance at the clock on the wall, all white glass and silver metal. You shrug out of his hold. “You’ll make me late.” You head to the bathroom, and for once, he actually listens.

#notsfw #sirius black fanfic #sirius black smut #sirius black x reader #rockstar!sirius #sirius black #harry potter fanfic #ns4w

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awlumii · 2 years

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Telling spidey!Kazuha how annoying he is, how you didn’t sign up for this, and all that when he teases you too much. Obviously, it’s lighthearted, and you expect him to laugh it off, but instead he tells you “My other doctor isn’t this mean. Perhaps you could learn a thing or two from them.”

You pause instantly. Other doctor? He’s joking, surely. You look up at him, and can feel the waves of amusement rolling off him. He’s just doing this to rile you up, you tell yourself. But you can’t deny the lingering feeling of jealousy (and hurt?) as you move on to the next conversation.

"there, you're all patched up. now, out." you point to your balcony door with a frown. a petty jealousy sours your palate, makes you petulant and bitter. you don't want to show spider-man anymore of this side of you than you already have, so you try to get him out as soon as possible. when he doesn't move right away, your frown deepens. "what're you lingering for? does something still hurt?"

spider-man's shoulder sag a little and for a second, he looks like a wounded puppy. he places a hand over his chest where his heart is. "yes," he says. "right here. do you really want me gone that bad?"

you scoff. "can't fix that one, webhead. maybe try your 'other doctor'." you put the other doctor in air quotes, your voice turning saccharine sweet.

the vigilante is silent for just a moment too long. "...does the thought of me having another doctor upset you that much?" he asks.

"well, if you have another, then i don't see why you're having me do all the work." your face starts to burn. he's clearly onto you; you're just digging yourself into a hole at this point. "go have them heal that stupid little heart wound or whatever," you grumble. you start towards your room in an effort to escape this situation and your embarrassment. "i'm going to bed."

spider-man catches your wrist, stopping you. "now, perhaps my ears are deceiving me," he chuckles and pulls you in close, "but it sounds to me like someone's jealous. are you jealous, lovebug? is that it?"

you punch his arm just above where you'd bandaged him up earlier and relish in the small ow you get from him. "i am not. now let go."

"not until you confess."

"there's nothing to confess!"

"there's no shame in admitting that you're jealous, lovebug." he ponders for a moment. "okay, maybe a little. i'd laugh, but only a little, i promise. just admit it: you want to be my only doctor, don't you?"

you keep your face turned away from him. "...so what if i do? someone else could fuck around and kill you by accident, i dunno." your voice is small. "if it's just me, i know you'll be... safe, i guess."

spider-man pulls you into a hug and nuzzles your face with his own. the fabric of his mask is soft but annoying; you push him away, but to no surprise, he's stronger than you and uses it to his advantage to keep you in place. "you're so cute," he coos. he presses clothed kisses on your cheek and trails them down to your neck, speaking as he goes. "you just want me all to yourself, don't you? the feeling is mutual, lovebug; i won't share you with anyone in the whole world. got it?"

you shiver at the contact and groan at his playfulness. "fucking— quit it, webhead!" when he doesn't, you go limp in his hold. "fine, fine! okay, you win! would you stop?"

spider-man's laugh is damn near contagious. he backs off of you with his hands raised in surrender. "alright, alright, as you wish." he sighs, content. "you know i love you, right?"

your heart skips unwillingly. those damned words. "okay. whatever." you don't look at him.

he takes your chin in his fingers and turns your head so that you're facing him. he waits until you force your eyes on his mask and you can practically feel the warm smile he gives you. "i'm serious, pretty thing."

your eyes drift elsewhere. "i said okay. i love you too, or whatever." he can never know how much you mean it.

"that's my lovebug." he squeezes your cheeks and presses and clothed kiss on your nose. he's quick to leave you then, appearing by the balcony doorway in a flash. "i'll take my leave now. and don't worry, i'll tell my other doctor i have... previous engagements."

and just like that, he's gone, leaving you with your fingertips pressed to your forehead. a smile twists your face against your will. god, you like him so much. "fucking moron." you mutter to yourself.

#[ 📭 — incoming! ]#[ 💭 — thinking! ]#kazuha x reader #i am down... SO fucking bad..#i cannot explain my way out of this one.

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kingofthe-egirls · 29 days

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LAVENDER: UTA x LUFFY

(cw: kissing, sex, creampie, gear 5 shenanigans)

(a/n: it was fun to write for Uta instead of y/n)

words: 2.2k

***

The sun hits lavender on the sea’s horizon line. Luffy kicks a pebble down the beach, enjoying the warm waves of summer air. Uta walks in front of him, holding her boots in one hand. She picks her way along the beach, avoiding sharp shells and stones. Luffy watches her footprints appear in the sand.

Suddenly, Uta stops. Luffy almost bumps into her, before he catches himself. She’s staring at something in the distance, eyebrows furrowed and a pout on her lips.

She sways, before turning around to face him. The sunlight throws amethysts into her eyes.

“If you want to,” she says, hips popped to the side, one hand still holding her boots. She’s wearing a white dress and a blue sleeve, with his straw hat design on the back of her hand. His heartbeat quickens to see it. What does it mean, when his breath hitches and his gut twitches, when he sees it? Some part of him, still linked to her? Enough to put on a piece of clothing?

Questions swirl through his head, as they stand together in the sand. Ocean waves lap at their feet as they pause on the twilit beach. Luffy wipes his hands on his shorts. She frowns, her delicate lips pouting in a coral red. “Only if you want to,” she reiterates, hand poised by her side as she illustrates her point. She pauses, chewing her lip. Her eyes slide to the sunset, as she mulls over her words.

“What?”

Luffy squishes his sandals into the sand. She seems to be struggling with something, but Luffy can’t tell what it is. She’s staring intently at the fading lavender light. A warm wind brushes over Luffy’s skin. He squeezes his hands in and out of nervous fists.

“I want…,” she scrunches her nose, still staring firmly at the sea, “To kiss you.”

Luffy stares.

Is she serious?

Is this a game?

“But it’s only if you want to!” She quickly says, stamping her foot. The ocean waves lap at the shore, crashing gently. He shifts in the sand, feeling it give way beneath his sandals.

“I want to.”

He says it without hesitation. He’s never been one to turn down an adventure. She stops, lips parted.

Luffy closes the distance between them in an instant.

“Mine,” he growls, lips just barely brushing hers. He needs to know, needs to hear it, that she’s his.

She smooches him once, and then, “Yours.”

He smiles, and presses his lips to hers for a proper kiss.

Her lips are soft as sugar, and just as sweet. She tastes like peppermint.

“Mmm,” Luffy moans softly against her lips, his tongue chasing hers. She lets him in, and soon his tongue is softly guiding hers to explore his mouth, too. She nips at his bottom lip, and pulls away.

“That was my first kiss.”

She stares at him with violet eyes and plush, kiss-bitten lips. He smiles, nice and wide, as his hand goes to his hat. His other hand goes to her waist, to press her close against him. “Ah!”

She gasps a little at the movement, but Luffy grins. He presses his cheek to hers, and whispers a small, quiet, “Mine too.”

She giggles, nose pressing into his cheek. She smooches it, before winding her arms around his waist. She grabs into the fabric of his shirt, leaning against him with her chest pressed to his and her head on his shoulder. She’s soft, and squishy, and so warm.

“Mmm…,” Luffy hums, happy to have her weight against him.

He strokes her hair, over the red and pink, before bringing his hand to her chin. He slowly, slowly tilts her head up towards him. She sighs, eyes half-lidded, as he closes in for another kiss. His lips press against hers, softly moving together.

“Mmph!” Uta moans as he deepens the kiss. Her hands go to his waistband, pulling at it impatiently.

“Want you,” she whispers, her forehead against his. She smells like cotton candy.

“Here?” He asks, his lips still touching hers. He scratches his nails down the length of her spine, and he feels her shudder with goosebumps.

“Back on the ship.”

He nods, grabbing her hand to start sprinting down the beach.

****

She laughs breathlessly as they board the ship, still holding Luffy’s hand. He’s grinning like a maniac, pulling her along towards his cabin. The setting sun paints him in an orangey glow, all golden and amber dancing on his skin like sparks.

He pulls her inside the door to his cabin, and pushes her up against it. He’s gentle; he doesn’t want to hurt her. But he wants to please her and every instinct in his body is saying to kiss her.

Uta moans into the kiss, sliding down the door a bit as she swoons. Luffy giddily laughs as he catches her. “Careful, princess.”

She snorts, and waves him away. She’s got roses blooming on her cheeks. Luffy snickers, then tugs on her wrist to start leading her back toward the bed. She’s still blushing, but she follows him all the same.

“Luffy…,” she mumbles, as he sits on the bed with her standing between his knees. She plants her hands on his shoulders, and leans down for another kiss. Luffy’s hands wander over her thighs, squeezing and fondling her curves. He grabs her ass with a tight grip, snickering.

“Luffy!” she complains, the roses on her cheeks now dyed darker. He kisses her palm, lifting it to his face. Romantic. As if he wasn’t still feeling her up, hands all under her dress.

His hands find their home at her hips, squeezing gently.

“Whaaat, ya don’t like it?”

He’s got his chin against her tummy, looking up at her heavenly face. She’s gazing down at him, smiling through her blush. She softly runs her hands through his dark hair.

She shakes her head.

“I like it.”

Luffy grins. “Wan’ more?”

She nods, before leaning down to kiss him again. She kneels over him, straddling him on the bed. “Take this off,” Luffy commands, tugging at her dress. She lets him pull it off overhead.

“Slow,” she tells him. He nods.

Luffy is staring at her chest, mouth parted in awe. She’s shivering a little bit, feeling so exposed. But then Luffy is grabbing her tits in strong, warm hands and she can’t think of anything anymore. And when his mouth finds its place on her nipple, she swoons.

“Shishishi,” Luffy snickers, pulling away from her spit-covered nip, “I’ve barely done anything ta ya~”

She hmphs, head turned to the side. Luffy drags his hands up and down her ribcage. “I like ya like this,” he says, “All pretty and blushy f’me.”

She presses her lips closed around a moan. His hands are fire on her skin, his fingers squeezing at her breasts. Fireworks bloom beneath his fingertips.

“I—I like you like this, too,” she murmurs, starting to subconsciously rock her hips against his. Luffy hisses at the friction, before leaning down to suck a bruise onto her neck. He makes sure to nibble it, wanting to leave a mark. He pulls back and smiles at his work.

“You’re mine,” he says, fingers tracing the bruise. His lips are parted in fascination.

Uta squirms a little, flushed and excited. “More, Luffy,” she whines. She rocks her hips once in demonstration. She’s gorgeous above him: her red and pink hair draped over each shoulder. Her breasts, left open and bared. He sucks a nipple into his mouth again, gently moving his lips around it.

He flicks at it with his tongue, while his hand comes up to play with the other one. He squeezes at her breasts, before switching places with his mouth. He laves his tongue across her chest as he goes. The feeling of his spit, cool in the air, is a new, weird feeling that crinkles her nose in guilty pleasure.

Luffy is soft and gentle, until he starts teething at her nipples and she has to pull him off. “Enough, Lu!” She huffs, hand in his hair. She opens her mouth to say something else, but she stops. Moonlight seems to be blooming at the roots of Luffy’s hair.

Gear 5.

“Luffy!” She gasps, as his hair turns white, as well as his clothes. He snickers up at her, chin between her breasts. His arms are strong around her waist, looping over and over again like rope. She squirms in place, but Luffy holds her still. He’s smiling.

His eyes are pink.

White clouds swirl into a halo around his head, completing his transformation. Uta swallows; she’s not sure what she’s in for.

“So fun,” he says, dragging her back and forth on his cock. His head tips back in pleasure. “Wan’ more~”

He stretches his arms down so he can remove his clothes, while keeping Uta snug in his grasp.

Luffy pulls her panties to the side. “S’okay if I fuck ya like this?” He rasps, sliding his cock back and forth across her slick entrance. She nods, smitten.

Luffy lowers her down onto his cock slowly, and with precision.

Uta gasps at the stretch, but it’s so nice and so big…

“That’s it, sweets,” he grunts, bucking up into her with one, short thrust. His rubber-wrapped arms hold her in place as he pushes her onto his cock.

“Luffy—!”

“S’deep, isn’t it, baby?” He starts a slow rhythm, shallow and sweet. His white hair floats around his face, as steam starts pouring from his ears. It fills the room as he fucks her from below. Uta sees stars, literally. They wink into being and swirl around her head.

“Luffy!” His name is all she can manage as pleasure starts setting off firecrackers in her body.

His muscled abs clench as he fucks her, still holding her with rubber arms. Hearts are swirling around his head, too.

Luffy pants, tongue lolling out of his mouth. Steam fills the room, swirling around them in a moonlight haze. It’s hot; Uta pants, too.

Luffy sits up so he can flip her onto her back. He still keeps his arms in loops around her—he wants her close.

Luffy slows his pace, making love to her now, all slowed down and sweet. His white hair floats around his face, tickling her chin as he leans down to kiss her. “Love ya~”

Uta strangles out a moan, a drunken “Love you too, Luffy!” All rasped out and broken.

Luffy thrusts in long, languid pulses. Her tits bounce and shake with every movement. Luffy stretches his rubber neck down to kiss on them.

“Luffy!” she cries, squirming in his grasp, “Sensitive!”

Luffy just laughs, licking big ice cream licks over her nipples. “You can take it though, can’t ya?”

She pouts, still squirming a little. She’s trapped in Luffy’s arms, but truth be told—there’s nowhere else she’d rather be.

Luffy snickers as his head snaps back to normal. He slowly unravels his rubber arms from around her. His expression softens; he strokes her cheek. Uta smiles, blushed and sweaty, as she leans into his ginger touch. This is heaven.

Uta reaches up to cup Luffy’s face in her hands. Luffy’s pace is slow and sensual, softly fucking her with the utmost care. He turns his head to press a kiss to her palm.

“Want ya ta cum,” Luffy rasps. He reaches down to press his hand against her lower abdomen. “Please cum f’me?”

Uta squeezes her eyes shut at the pressure of Luffy’s cock massaging inside her. It’s long and thick, and curved upward slightly. His tip rubs up against her g-spot with every thrust. It isn’t long before shimmers of sparks run down her back in a waterfall of ecstasy.

Luffy giggles as he watches her face contort in pleasure: all red and pink like an apple. She’s sweet, too.

“Luffy!” She gasps, mouth parted like a peach ring. His name tastes like sugar on her tongue, as he giggles and thrusts faster for her. He jackhammers his hips; riding her through her orgasm as he chases his own. He spills inside her with a strangled groan, his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes squeezed shut. His face is a deep amber, blushing slightly as his jaw juts forward. “Pretty girl, that’s it, that’s the stuff, sweets~”

“Luffy, ah, ah~!”

…

* __

sweetness,

like a peach

‘’ , *

like a god

…

like him.

Uta comes to with a gasp, her whole body shuddering in pleasure. Luffy pulls out slowly, both of them groaning at the sensation. His cock weeps onto the mattress below them, as his seed spills out of her.

Luffy is smiling, sweaty and flushed. He leans over to the bedside table, opening the drawer to grab a rag. He gently cleans both of them up, before scooping Uta into his arms. Her long, lovely legs drape over his arm, as she rests her head on his shoulder. He takes her to the bathroom, setting her gently in the bath. Luffy starts running warm water, and softly joins her. They both rinse off, enjoying the heat of the bath. Luffy sighs, deflating slightly as the water tires him.

His hair is black.

Uta runs her fingers through the raven spikes, gently pulling his hair away from his face, revealing his sharp widow’s peak.

She traces it delicately with her thumb. “Love you, Luffy.”

He smiles, dopey, and leans into her touch.

“Love you too.”

#luuta #luffy x uta #luffy fanfic #luffy smut #dumpster dive

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callofdudes · 1 year

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Cigarette Smoke.

Ghoap | Ghost x Soap ficlet.

Cw: NSFW, my cringy attempt to make Ghost hot.

Summary: a smoke break goes a little too far.

Just a little unedited draft of two bros doing bro things. Coughhandjobcough-

Word count: 1.2K

"Have you seen Ghost?" Johnny asked Gaz on the way out the door. "Hmm? Oh yeah, he said something about a break, probably by the outpost." Johnny nodded. "Goodnight." Gaz waved before he left. Johnny left out the backdoor, determined to say goodnight to Ghost before he left for bed. Seeing as Ghost would probably be up later than everyone else he figured he'd try now.

He tucked his hands in his pockets and walked out toward the outpost. The gravel underneath his feet crunched on the way until he was at the building. "Ghost?" Johnny called out into the darkening night. He didn't hear anything so he trudged toward the back of the building. He'd barely turned the corner before he saw him. Tucked away by the edge of the concrete patio of the building stood Ghost. His tall stature almost blended into the darkness if it weren't for the smoke that drifted off into the night.

Johnny felt his heart squeeze at the sight of it. His lips felt dry as Ghost placed the cigarette back against his lips and breathed in the addiction.

It's such a simple thing, and yet Soap can't find himself looking away from the spectacle in front of him. Ghost's mask rolled over the bridge of his nose, exhaling smoke from his lips. Those lips. Rough, jagged with cuts and yet Soap finds himself no less attracted. The warm bud meets the lieutenant's lips again and Soap feels himself inhale with Ghost.

It's tense despite neither saying anything. Another drag of smoke leaves off Ghost's lips into the air and it feels as if the world has stopped moving. The way Ghost's tired eyes faintly reflect the flicker of the cigarette. The burn of the bud's light piercing off into the dark night. Ghost tilted his head, spotting Soap by the corner of the building. "Don't be shy, Sergeant."

Soap gulped and stepped out from his hiding spot, coming over to Ghost. "Sorry sir." Soap watches Ghost drag another spell from his lungs and finds his heart fluttering in his chest. "Care for one?" Soap's cheeks turned a shallow pink as he moved closer to Ghost. "If ya don't mind sharing."

Ghost smirks at this. He breathes in a particularly deep, knees buckling, hands shaking breath.

Johnny thought he was in heaven.

That is until Ghost stomped out his bud and took Johnny's chin between his index and middle finger. Soap could feel his heart drop into his stomach when Ghost tilted his head up toward him. "Your eyes are amazing." Soap complimented before he could stop himself. Ghost pulled Soap against him, urging the smaller man's mouth open. And before he knew of Ghost was releasing smoke against him. Soap didn't realize he'd breathed in until his lungs felt full and Ghost's lips hovered empty over his.

Ghost and him had always had a thing. They'd never declared anything of it, but it always seemed so natural the stuff they did together.

The smoke trailed off Soap's lips and their mouths met in a soft kiss. Soap hummed, shoulders dropping in relaxation. Ghost's hands wandered along his waist, cupping the small of his back. Chapped, smoke covered lips suffocated Johnny like he'd never know before. His fingers trailed down the stubble along Ghost's jaw as they slowly pulled away. "Simon." Johnny whispered. He looked into his beautiful half lidded eyes. His soft eyelashes fluttered, so noticeable against the backdrop of facepaint.

"I think I love you."

Their lips traced back against each other, Simon's warm tongue danced over Johnny's lips until he was invited inside his sergeant's mouth. They groaned, Ghost's hands wandered down across Johnny's butt with a curt squeeze. Johnny whimpered. Ghost pulled the sergeant up into his arms and pressed him against the brick wall of the outpost.

Ghost breathed sharply through his nose. The taste of bourbon was stronger on his tongue. Johnny absolutely craved it. He clasped his fists at parts of his mask. It grew messy quickly when their tongues flicked and played between their open mouths before ending in another kiss. Cigarette long forgotten about, Ghost squeezed Johnny against the wall. Legs wrapped tightly around his hips Johnny rut against his belt in excitement. His heartbeat quickened every time Ghost's hands touched him in a new place.

Those hands trailed up under Johnny's military t-shirt. His bare hands. Rough skin, scars, and nails scraping over his abdomen while he mapped Johnny's tanned skin.

Johnny gasped happily. His world was spinning in excitement. Ghost leaned in and attacked his neck with hickeys. Soft, supple skin bruised under the force of the kiss, blood festering on the surface in a nice dark red circle. All accompanied with soft bite marks.

Simon loved to bite, as Johnny soon found out. Teeth grazed his skin in warning before a nip caught his skin, pinching it between sharp canines.

"Ghost, fuck, I want you so bad."

Ghost licked a long streak of saliva up to Johnny's ear and kissed the lobe

"That can be arranged."

Johnny whimpered, rutting his hips back up into Ghost. His cock twitched in his pants for release. Release from Ghost. "Impatient are we?"

Ghost forced his hips up and tightened Johnny's legs around him. Johnny watched Ghost undo his belt and pull his member out. His blush deepened and the knot in his stomach tightened. Ghost leaned forward and started to undo Johnny's belt. From his boxers Ghost growled upon seeing his pent up cock. His flush pink tip and the veins along his length.

Ghost thumbed Johnny's tip and then started to gently pump the base. "Oh fuck! Simon!" Johnny arched and his head hit the wall. Simon chuckled. He bucked his hips and for the love of everything on this planet - took his own cock with Johnny's in one hand. If that sight didn't make Johnny undeniably horny he didn't know what did.

Rough knuckles wrapped around their members and stroked in short, rough motions. Johnny was a moaning mess. His stomach tightened and flexed. Butterflies coiling and fluttering. Ghost watched with a satisfied smirk as Johnny lost himself.

"I think I'm gonna- Ghost!" His voice was strained and desperate. He bucked his hips wildly as much as he could.

Ghost tightened his fingers, his thumb mindlessly stroking a thick vein along his cock. He started to pant, the feeling of his release coming soon.

Johnny cried happily as his cock twitched. Robes of cum shot across his chest. The knot in his stomach started to slowly uncoil. Ghost groaned. He squeezed and panted, finally he fell off the edge and his own release washed over him.

They were left there, panting and fuzzy in their cores. They leaned their foreheads against each other, panting in unison.

"So.. Can I take you out for a drink later tomorrow night?" Johnny asked, a smile pulling at his lips. Ghost scoffed. "Think you can keep up?"

"I'll try."

Ghost purred and let Johnny catch his own feet on the ground. They reclothed themselves fully and Johnny spoke. "I'll take that as a yes then?"

Ghost smirked. "Sure Johnny, I'll see you tomorrow after practice."

Johnny nodded, about to walk away when Ghost called out to him. "Might want to clean your jacket before anyone sees you."

Just a little thing. Unedited and raw. I'm not sure if I'm happy with it but I'll post it anyways because why not. Hope you enjoyed!

#writing #ghoap #ghostsoap #soapghost #call of duty smut #ficlet #johnny mactavish #simon ghost riley #I dunno man #Was having a rough night and imagined Ghost smoking a cigarette in the dark #and this bullshit came to be #im not sorry

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galatially · 9 months

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❝𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮❞

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 / 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 / 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 / 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐈𝐈𝐈: feelings

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 x 𝐝𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫!𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 — and if i could say anything, i would say that it will always be you; you hadn't expected to have to ask for help, but when you do, it's from the one person you wished it wasn't

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 — 2.3K

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 — strong language, pining, general fluff

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — gasp! she updated!

It’s said that things come in threes.

Your shoelace coming apart this morning should’ve been the first sign. The second sign would’ve been when you dropped your coffee in the parking lot on the way into the office. Standing in front of your landlord as he told you that your apartment was water damaged finished the trio.

“I’ve called the tenants upstairs but they’re on vacation.”

“Why would they leave the patio door open when they weren’t going to be home? The rain’s been horrible this week.” Your eyes scanned all of your damaged furniture and appliances; there goes your vacation fund.

“They’re kids, Y/N, you know how that goes,” your landlord says, waving his hand.

“No, I don’t. I’m not made of money and I don’t leave kids in charge of an entire apartment.” You let out a hard sigh as you looked at the gaping hole in your ceiling. “How long until everything’s fixed?”

He lifted a shoulder. “A week, maybe two. Depends on what the contractors say.”

Great. Just fucking great.

If you were being honest, you should’ve moved out years ago. Sure, the rent compared to the nicer buildings in Brooklyn was fairly decent but the things that you had to put up with for the sake of said rent in a shitty studio apartment was bullshit. You ran a hand down your face and told your landlord to keep you posted as you dialed Serena’s number.

“Hey, girl!”

“Nat’s not there, is she?”

“Uh…” You heard shuffling and the closing of a door. “What’s wrong?”

“You won’t believe it.” You let out a shaky chuckle, your free hand on your forehead. “My apartment’s flooded. All of that shitty furniture that I’ve been meaning to replace, the new bed frame that I just got. All gone.” You put a hand to your forehead, your eyes and nose starting to burn from the tears threatening to spill. “Can I come over? The more I keep looking at everything, I’m going to have a mental break.”

“Of course! Let me get my keys and I’ll be over, okay?”

“So, don’t freak out, but Nat and I have company over.”

You and Serena had just pulled into her parking space when the air suddenly thickened. She’d turned the ignition off and turned to face you, her features twisted with worry.

“Okay…?”

“Steve’s in there.”

Had you been a teenager again, you’d have found a way to make your damaged apartment livable. What’s a water damaged loveseat when the man that you’ve fantasized about is less than twenty feet away? But you were fucking exhausted and the last thing you cared about was Steven Grant Rogers seeing you in your grubby scrubs and your braids slipping from the bun you’d put them in this morning.

“I’ll be fine, Rena. I just want to take a shower and sleep.”

Serena nodded and walked towards the house, leaving you to follow after her in silence. She left the door behind her like she had been since you were in high school and you heard the prevalent voices of some of the Avengers carrying towards you.

“Y/N! I didn’t know you were coming!”

Natasha stood up and pulled you into your arms. You and the redhead became fast friends from the moment you’d set foot into Avengers Tower. You both had the same wry sense of humor and often found yourselves at the same bar on Eighty-Sixth street. She was one of the best partners Serena ever had and, while she teased you about it often, she was supportive when you let slip your crush on Steve.

“Hey, Nat.”

She pulled back, her brows furrowed. “What happened?”

As you opened your mouth, you saw a familiar pair of blue eyes on you. He moved to his knees and your eyes went back to Natasha’s. “Is it okay if I tell you later? I’m really tired.”

She nodded and you walked back towards their guest room, still feeling Steve’s eyes on you.

You awoke to the smell of fresh coffee.

When you reached out for your phone on the end table, you remembered that you weren’t in your apartment and that you left your phone in your pants pocket on the floor. You turned your gaze towards the ceiling and let out a long sigh.

“Y/N?” Natasha spoke from behind the closed door. “How you feeling?”

You pushed yourself up on your elbows, a half smile drawing in the corner of your mouth. “Could be better. But what’s new?”

She opened the door further and walked into the room, sliding into bed beside you. She took hold of your hand and rested her head on your shoulder. At first, you were confused. Not with the sudden affection or her closeness, but with how she knew that’s what you needed in this moment.

“You want me to deal with those kids upstairs? I’ll make sure they pay you back in spades.”

You laughed. “Nah. Maybe I can finally make myself look for a new place.” You rested your head against hers. “I’m trying to think about it positively so that I don’t burn the whole complex down.”

“Say the word and Buck and I’ll start gathering supplies.”

“Don’t give him another reason to be a menace,” you said, snorting. “The amount of tending to he needs on a biweekly basis is insane.”

“Steve’s not far behind him.” You heard the lilt in her words. “He was asking about you after you went to bed last night.”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t play coy,” Nat deadpanned, “We all know that you like him.”

“It’s fucking annoying! I’m twenty-nine years old and I can barely look the man in the eyes!”

“I think it’s cute.”

You bumped your shoulder with hers. “I’m being serious, Nat! It’s embarrassing!”

“Yeah, well, he doesn’t think so.”

You waved off her words. “Anyway, I’ll try to find a hotel or something later on today.”

The redhead’s brows furrowed. “For what?”

“I’m not about to take up space from you guys if I don’t have to.”

She scoffed. “You wouldn’t be taking up space, Y/N, Jesus. We have a spare room for a reason.”

“And one bathroom,” you deadpanned. “I don’t know about you, but Serena needs at least seventy-five percent of the bathroom to herself.”

“She does, doesn’t she?” Nat chuckled. “Do you know anyone that has an extra room or a couch to crash on?”

You shrugged. “Most of my friends from medical school are either married, in a relationship, or halfway across the country. My mom lives in Georgia. Both of my sisters are in Jersey.”

“You could ask Tony if he’s willing to let you stay in one of his many unused properties in Brooklyn.”

You wrinkled your nose. “That’s crossing a line regardless of how close Tony and I are.”

“Bucky?”

“He just got his new place, right? I don’t want to overwhelm him.”

You both looked at each other, the question lingering heavy. You knew that he’d let you, it’s just his nature. Always looking out for people in need.

But living together, even if for a little while, would muddy things up for you. It was easy to hide your feelings when you could escape to your own place and let them pool at your feet. But to live with him? Even if was temporary, your stomach twisted with worry. You could live in your happy denial and be was none the wiser for it.

But being temporarily displaced would eventually affect your work. You loved working at Avengers Tower. It was luck that even got you the position and you were damn good at it.

You let out a long sigh. “Can you hand me my phone?”

Nat’s lips drew up as she leaned over the side of the bed. “Are you going to call him?”

You gave her your a flat look. “Please, don’t. You can joke all you want because Steve’s practically a sibling to you. I, on the other hand, have to keep from speaking Simlish whenever he so much as looks at me.”

She snickered, handing you your phone. “You’ve clearly never seen him choke on his own tongue whenever you’re in the room.”

Your eyes looked towards the door. “Do you mind? In case he tells me no and I have to die of embarrassment.” Nat started making kissing noises and poking at the side of your face. “If I didn’t know that you’d put me in a hospital, I’d bite your finger off.”

“If I didn’t see you as a sister, I’d let you, free of charge,” she retorted, rising from the bed. You wrinkled your nose when she said your name. “Even if he says no, which he won’t, Rena and I will make room for you.” She held up her hand, a bemused smirk on her lips. “Before you even say it, it’s not a problem or a burden. You’re family. Deal with it.”

You pursed your lips for a few moments before you spoke, your voice small. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to doing anything for me just because you’re dating my best friend.”

“And I don’t want you to think that I don’t love you just as much as she does,” Nat replied. “We’re friends of our own accord and if I want to help you, let me.” You opened your mouth but she stopped you with a raise of her brow. “Are you about to say that we’re not friends?”

“Of course not!”

“Okay, then.” She nodded towards your phone. “Call Steve and then come eat breakfast.” She closed the door behind her and you were left with the crushing realization of your circumstances.

You took a deep breath and pressed the call button underneath Steve’s contact photo.

“Y/N?”

Your heart skipped a beat and you hated it. Even hearing his voice over the phone sent your hormones into overdrive.

“Hey — er, good morning, Captain,” you cleared your throat, “how are you?”

Smooth, Y/N. Real smooth.

“I’m fine. Is everything okay?”

You gulped. “This is kind of embarrassing but I have a favor to ask.”

He answered so quickly you thought you misheard him. “Anything.”

You let out a nervous chuckle. “I haven’t even asked the favor.”

“Whatever you need from me is yours.”

A warmth gathered in the pit of your stomach and bloomed throughout your body. His voice was low and husky, finality dripping from the words.

“I’m not sure you’ll think the same once you hear the favor, Captain.”

He chuckled. “Steve, sweetheart. Outside of the tower, I’m Steve.” You stuttered out an affirmative. “Now, what’s the favor?”

You chewed on your bottom lip. “My apartment is flooded and I was wondering if you had any spare room? It’s completely fine if you don’t, I just — ”

“Do you need to grab anything from your apartment? I don’t have much in the way of toiletries but I do have some spare clothes for you to change into, if you need.”

He said yes.

He actually said yes?

“I — ”

“How do you feel about motorcycles?”

A light chuckle tumbled from your lips. “I haven’t ridden on one since high school but I’m flexible.”

“Great.” You heard faint shuffling and the jingling of keys. “You’re at Nat and Serena’s, right? I need to run out and get some things but I’ll swing by and pick you up after, okay?”

You were floored. You’d expected a bit of groveling on your end and the polite decline that would’ve put you back at square one.

“I can’t even begin to thank you, C — Steve. Truly.”

His voice softened. “I meant what I said; anything you need from me is yours.”

Fuck.

“In any case,” you cleared your throat, “you’re doing me a huge favor and I owe you one.” You looked at the digital clock on the nightstand; half past eight. “So, I should be ready by ten?”

“I’ll be there.”

“Okay. Thank you again.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Y/N. It’s my pleasure,” he said. “I’ll see you at ten.”

“See you.” The call disconnected and climbed out of the bed, mechanically making your way towards the kitchen.

“What’s up?” Nat asked, her brow raised. “What’d he say?”

“He’s coming to get me at ten.” Your voice sounded foreign to your ears.

Serena set a mug of coffee down in front of you, concern bowing her brows. “Is that a good thing?”

“I’m…still processing that part.”

“Uh-uh,” Nat turned your chair towards her, forcing your eyes to meet, “Don’t start overthinking this, Y/N Y/L/N. He’s not doing this just to be polite and he’s damn sure not doing it to make himself look better. He genuinely likes you.”

“Let’s say that I believe you, okay? What does he like about me? We don’t talk outside of work, we barely talk at work. Once we’re in the same space, we have to get to know each other. Every quirk, every flaw. If he gets to see the person that I am outside of the office and doesn’t like what he sees, what do I do with that?”

Nat frowned some. “You’re putting him on a pedestal he doesn’t deserve, Y/N. He’s who he is by circumstance, not by design. And as far as him not liking you for who you are, he’d be fucking lucky to even get so much as a glance from you.”

“And if he so much as says anything about your cute little snores, I’ll kick his ass all up and down the Brooklyn Bridge,” Serena warned.

You smiled.

“The point is,” Nat continued, “neither one of you know each other and, while this is a bit unorthodox, you could fix that. If by the end of the week you don’t want to stay there, just call us and we’ll figure something out.” She raised a hand, stopping your next words. “Again, if you say another word about how you’re a burden to your friends, I’m going to hang you off the side of the Empire State building.”

The corners of your mouth lifted as you took another sip of your coffee. “Love you, too, Nat.”

She smiled warmly. “Hurry up and eat before Cap gets here.”

By nine forty-five, you were showered, moisturized, and out of your day old scrubs waiting in the living room with Serena and Natasha watching a movie.

“Why do you like this movie, Y/N? It’s so ridiculous!”

Your mouth gaped at your best friend. “Um, excuse you! This is one of the best rom-coms ever! What’s more romantic than a marketing executive falling in love with a chef through the power of food and magic?”

“She can’t cook!” Nat argued.

“That’s where the magic crab comes in!”

A knock on the door made you pause, your pulse kicking up.

“Come in!” Serena called out.

The door opened, Steve’s eyes lighting up when he sees you. “Hey.”

Your cheeks warmed. “Hey.”

“What the fuck, Cap, you’re just going to ignore me in my own house?” Natasha stood up from the couch and moved to pull the Avenger into a hug. “I thought you were coming at ten?”

“I got done with my errands earlier than I expected and was in the neighborhood.” He pulled back and shot a smile to Serena. “Mornin’, Rena.”

“Morning, Stevie.”

His blue eyes found yours again. “You ready?”

You nodded and rose to your feet. Serena pulled you into a hug.

“Thanks for letting me stay, Rena.”

“Of course! You’re my person, the Maxine to my Khadijah.” She pulled back, a smile in her face. “I’m here whenever you need me.”

“I love you, too, bitch.”

“All right, lovebirds, I want a hug, too,” Nat teased, playfully pushing her girlfriend away to wrap her arms around your shoulders. “Take care of yourself and don’t be afraid to call us if you need anything at all.”

“I will. I’ll see you at work.”

“God, I hope not,” she joked.

You rolled your eyes and turned to Steve. “Lead the way.”

You both walked onto the porch and as you were making your way to his bike, he stopped you with his hand. You turned to look at him. “Yes?”

“I just — I’m glad you called.”

You smiled. “I’m glad you picked up. I really appreciate it.”

“Of course.” He nodded towards his bike. “You used to ride?”

“I had a few partners that did in high school and college.” You smirked, walking down the porch steps. “I was going to get my license after I graduated but my residency kind of took over.”

“Would you still want to?”

You shrugged. “Maybe one day when I have time.”

Steve hummed to himself before asking, “Did we have to stop by your apartment to grab anything?”

“Yeah,” your shoulders sagged, “hopefully I have something salvageable. Most of my money’s about to go into finding a new place and replacing all of my furniture —”

“Hey, hey.” He took hold of your hands. “If you don’t have anything, we can go somewhere and get you new things.”

You frowned. “I’m already putting you out, Steve.”

“No one’s putting anyone out. You’re my friend and I’m helping you out.”

Friend.

Of course he only saw you as a friend.

You carefully slipped your hands from his and gave him a small smile. “If you say so, Cap.” You turned on your heel and went to straddle the back end of his back. When you looked up at him, he seemed confused. “What?”

“I —” He shook his head. “Nothing. Let’s go.”

𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — not gon' even hold y'all, i'm fucking edging myself at this point and i don't like it lol

but these next two chapters? some of my greatest fluff i've ever fluffed

#galatially #painting every color for you #painting every color for you series #feelings #steve rogers #steve rogers x black!reader #doctor!black!reader #captain america #captain america x black!reader #captain america x doctor!black!reader

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ladylooch · 9 months

Note

Bby I know you’re dying for him so this is your sign to do a Kevin blurb 😌💅🏻

-🍻

You know me so well 😘

“Are you ready?” Kevin whispers into my ear as the arena goes dark. The crowd cheers. I can barely breathe as I shiver against his chest.

“Yes!” I scream. “Wooooo!”

Kevin’s hands go to my hips as I bounce up and down.

“We moved to a place with a view off of 8th avenue.” Kelsea Ballerini sings into her microphone. I close my eyes, practically fainting from excitement at how overwhelmed I am at finally being here to see her in person. The tickets are amazing. We are front and center as she sits in front of the microphone to scream out her healed version of Penthouse.

“I kissed someone new last night and now I don’t care where you’re sleeping baby!” I yell out, hands in the air as I belt the lyrics that quite literally changed my whole world.

I never thought I would love again; Kelsea, and Kevin Fiala, made me believe.

It all came to a head the night I kissed Kevin for the first time. I was cannon balling back into the dating scene with a professional athlete after a horrible break up with my narcissistic ex. When Kevin’s lips hit mine, I knew exactly what Kelsea was singing about. I didn’t care- about how he ran off with someone else or how he was engaged 6 months after. Or how he was about to have his first baby and live the things we dreamed about with someone else.

Because I had me.

And then I had Kevin too.

I feel Kevin’s lips press to the back of my neck. Then I turn in his arms, tugging his lips down onto me. My tongue shoves into his mouth as the final cords of Penthouse are drowned out by the cheering crowd. My fingerprints press into the back of his neck. His hands slide down into the back pockets of my jeans to hold me tight. We pull apart for air, noses touching. I open my eyes, staring back into his.

He knows what this song means to me. It’s why he surprised me with tickets this morning.

“I wanted you all along.” I murmur, replacing Kelsea’s lyrics with a little twist just for him.

“Love you.” He kisses me again, then turns me back towards the stage so I stop missing the concert I’ve been obsessing about

Lucky me, either way I turn, I get a show.

We leave the concert late. I’m floating on cloud nine when Kevin asks if I want a late-night stop at In N Out burger. We take our food to go, stuffing our faces no the beach close to our place, listening to the waves roll in from the inky ocean.

“Did you have fun tonight, baby?” He asks as he tossed his used burger wrapper into the bag. He moves it from between us, sliding me over the blanket to be in his lap.

“Yeah. Thank you again. You’re so good to me.” I stroke along his stubble then move up to tug at his mustache a bit. “ You know how you could make the night better?”

“I’m not shaving this.” He chuckles. “Me and the boys have a good thing going right now. It’s for the team, baby.” His mustache phase has been infused into the other Europeans on the Kings as well as his friend group back home in Switzerland.

“No… I was thinking you could use that somewhere tonight.” He cocks his head to the side, huge grin brightening up the dark night.

“Are you coming around?”

“Maybe…” I murmur against his mouth. The hairs in question twitch against my upper lip, which induces a moan from me as I remember where he tickled me yesterday morning. “Just a little taste though…” I whisper, letting my breath swirl into his mouth. He sighs heavily, gripping my hips as I rock him into an excited state. “Then I’ll have a little taste…” He closes his eyes as I press our lips together again. I watch as his features soften with desire under me. “Then you’ll take me so hard I can’t get out of bed tomorrow.”

“Then I do it all over again?”

“Yeah.” I giggle. “It’s our way.”

“Have I mentioned how much I love you?” He asks as I pull away, resting my forearms on his shoulders, hands hanging behind him.

“Not nearly enough.”

“Well, I can’t really say it enough. Kinda just gotta show you.”

“Take me home, Kev.”

He lifts me easily, carrying me back to the car as I take our trash in my hand. The breeze rolls in off the ocean, dancing my stray brown hairs along my face. My soft smile plumps my lips on Kevin’s shoulder. I close my eyes, recognizing for the millionth time, how ridiculously happy I am with him.

I never thought I could be in this place again.

I just hadn’t found my home yet.

#Kevin fiala blurb #Kevin fiala fan fiction #hockey writing #my writing #NHL imagine #NHL blurb

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silentsneezes · 2 years

Note

Eddie excited to finally find a nice smelling cologne he's not allergic to only for Steve to be allergic to it. He doesn't want to admit it though because Eddie's so excited.

i love this prompt so much! i’ll probably write some other variations with this prompt; i hope you enjoy!

Eddie grins, dimples accentuating his already handsome features. After a lot of searching (and quite a few allergy attacks) he’s found a cologne that doesn’t set off his sensitive nose.

He waits eagerly for Steve to come home; the younger boy always enjoys Eddie’s comforting musk. While waiting, he blasts music through headphones, playing air guitar and cleaning some clutter.

It doesn’t take long for Steve to come home. He lets himself in and plants a small kiss on Eddie’s cheek before setting down his bag. The younger boy hums contentedly, wrapping his arms around Eddie’s waist and tracing small patterns along the guitarists’ rings.

“New cologne?“ Steve’s voice is tinged with surprise: Eddie doesn’t seem allergic. He’s witnessed enough allergic reactions to be cautious about what collognes to wear.

Eddie nods, a smile flashing across his face, “and I haven’t even sneezed once. I actually really like it too!”

Steve hums in response, nuzzling his nose into Eddie’s shoulder and sighing tiredly. Saturday shifts were always the busiest. Except now, as Steve sways with Eddie in his arms, his work anxieties fade.

They’re replaced, unfortunately, with a prickling sensation in his nose. He sniffs softly, bringing a sweater clad hand to his face and pawing at the itchy appendage.

Eddie turns around so he’s facing Steve and plants a few kisses on the younger boy’s neck. He works his way up towards Steve’s mouth, drawing each kiss out so it’s longer than the last. He pauses as Steve’s breath hitches and he places a hand on Eddie’s chest, signaling for him to pause.

Steve pivots himself away from Eddie and dives into his elbow, hoping his sweater will muffle the sudden expulsions, “hhH’MPdDTSHC! heDMPCHt! m’MPDCHu!“

Eddie frowns: the sneezes seem impossibly itchy. They come in quick succession, each tumbling out before he can catch his breath. Steve blushes and sniffles against his sweater sleeve.

“Bless you thrice,” there's a hint of anxiety in Eddie’s voice, but it goes unnoticed by Steve (he’s more preoccupied by the lingering itch).

“Thanks,” he mumbles embarrassedly, sniffing against a sudden runny nose, “Sor-heheHTd’GXZT! n’GSXXTch! HrRD’dTSCH!”

Steve barely has time to pull the collar of his sweater above his nose and mouth. His head bobs with each attempted stifle, resulting in him burying his face in Eddie’s neck.

He flushes with embarrassment as Eddie blesses him softly and rubs small circles on his back.

“You’re not coming down with something, are you?” he asks, though he suspects the sudden sneezing is caused by his cologne.

Steve shakes his head, pulling away from Eddie and trying to form a sentence despite his flaring nostrils, “No I fe-heh-felt fine at work… h’MPDzXt! I think it’s juhhuhHTSXCHew! just something in the-heh-heh…. the airhHrDTSCHU!”

He continues talking through the triple despite his hitching breaths and trembling nose, determined to finish his sentence.

“Bless you, bless you, bless you,” Eddie takes a small step away from Steve, “love, I think it’s my cologne.”

Steve shakes his head, eyes tinged with guilt, “No! I think it’s just -sndff- dust or…”

Steve trails off, his eyebrows furrowing deeply and irritated nostrils flaring. He waves a hand in front of his nose, as if that will stop the itch. It doesn’t.

“hehhHKkSCHTew! hhrRSCH’dDXEw! h’zMPSTDCH!”

Each sneeze is caught in his sweater clad paw. The triple bends him double, his usually neat hair becoming slightly disheveled.

“Bless you!” Eddie tucks a loose strand of hair behind Steve’s ear, “Steve, it’s okay to be allergic.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve shifts guiltily, positioning himself away from Eddie slightly, “I kdow you were excited.”

“Hey, hey,” Eddie places a hand under Steve’s chin, prompting the younger boy to look at him, “None of that, okay? I’m not mad. How about we shower -bless you- and then we can -bless you- watch a movie? Bless you.”

Steve nods, cheeks tinged with an embarrassed blush. Despite his continuous sneezing throughout the evening, it’s not too bad. He and Eddie shower before cuddling on the couch and watching the Titanic. Steve falls asleep halfway through, exhausted after a long shift and all his sneezing.

#sneeze kink #sneeze blog #sneezefucker #sneeze scenario #fanfic #sneezefic #snzblr #allergies #eddie munson

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wait-still-rendering · 2 years

Text

I’ve decided to make two separate posts for my self-indulgent barbie story. One with just the links and one with the links AND the chapters. So here we go!!

ao3 link

ffnet link

Magiana

Summary: Long time friends, Anneliese and Erika find themselves thrown into the world of magic by accident. Everything they’ve ever known is quickly turned on its head as the girls navigate their new life in Magiana. When the ancient relic Crystalias goes missing, it's up to them to capture the culprit and bring back Crystalias before the new moon arrives.

Magiana — mah (as in magic) jee - ahna. A realm filled to the brim with magical creatures and beings, mostly cut off from the non-magical realm.

—

Magiana's shores were soaked in a beautiful blue, its people moving about the docks in tandem. Everything in Magiana worked in tandem. Perhaps it was the offset of magic that ran through its land that led to its almost musical rhythm or perhaps that was the way of its people. Lively chatter shot through the docks and bubbled up from beneath the water.

Mermaids. They giggled and swam freely, careful not to get in the way of ships and their cargo. The merpeople were not seabound to their homes. In fact, nobody batted an eye as they twirled and twisted through the air, graceful as a ballet dancer.

Fairies flew among the clouds, dipping close to the sea to meet their aquatic friends. Children standing on the edge of the docks waved and cheered at the show, while others showed off their magic for a spare coin.

There were many fantastical beings in Magiana—mermaids, fairies, wizards, enchantresses, shapeshifters.

"Wolfie, come back!"

"Serafina! Serafina!"

Anneliese and Erika had not quite realized they were far, far away from home, their focus solely on their cats scampering about. They did not notice this until Wolfie and Serafina sat barking (and mewling) at a foreign food stand. It was there that they caught sight of the mermaids twirling in air alongside the gliding fairies.

Anneliese stared.

Erika blinked three times.

"Where are we?" Anneliese asked, drinking in every detail.

"This is weird. Like weird-weird. I mean, mermaids? Fairies? We have to be dreaming, Anneliese."

Her friend tucked in a tuft of blond hair behind her ear. "Is it possible to have the exact same dream as another person at the same time?"

Erika shrugged her arms, her eyes landing on a merman with hazel eyes and messy brown hair. He didn't look away, instead he smiled and did a flip. She raised an eyebrow.

“There’s no way this is real.” Erika shook her head, scooping up Wolfie in the process.

Anneliese did the same, calmed by Serafina’s incessant purring. “I thought magic was an old wives’ tale.”

“Well, as you can see, it isn’t, my dear,” a soft, husky voice said from behind the two girls. An owl, larger than both Anneliese and Erika, stood tall, her emerald green eyes gleaming with wisdom. “Welcome to Magiana. May your visit be pleasant.” Without so much as another word, the owl took flight.

“I thought owls only flew around at night.” Anneliese watched the owl go, transfixed by her soft, brown feathering.

“We see mermaids and fairies and your first question is about the talking owl?” Erika joked.

“She said this place was called Magiana, right?”

“A bit on the nose, don’t you think?”

Anneliese laughed. “But you have to admit it’s wonderful.” She set Serafina down, making her way toward the docks. Erika followed suit.

Erika glanced at the water, wondering where the merman with the hazel eyes had gone before she shrugged. She pulled her blue cloak closely around her as she was not yet used to the sea air on such a nice, but chilly day. The kingdom’s warmth stuck with her even now.

“Shouldn’t we get back, Anneliese?”

“It wouldn’t hurt to explore a bit.”

“You are a sheltered princess.”

Anneliese’s pink lips turned up in a smile. “And it’s not like we’ll get a second chance.”

“True. Lead the way, your highness.” Erika curtisied. “But I think,” she started, twirling around in her dress, “we should trade these in for something a little more practical. Or we could buy a map.”

“I’m not quite sure if our money works here, but it's worth a try.”

The two set off toward the vendors, Wolfie and Serafina in tow. Unbeknownst to them, they were being watched.

—

Donning new outfits and walkable shoes, Anneliese and Erika went about Magiana in search of a map.

A man with gray hair, tan skin, and circular glasses waved them over to his vendor. “Hello, ladies! What brings you over here this fine afternoon?” He smiled. “My name is Ferris.”

“We need a map,” Erika said, shifting uncomfortably.

“Of course! Of course! I have multiple. Just choose one that suits your fancy.” When Anneliese’s hand hovered over the maps sitting on the table, he quickly added, “You’ll each need to give me something in return first.”

“Money? I’m not sure our currency works here, then again, it worked once. Maybe it’ll work here too.” Anneliese patted one of her pockets.

“Foreigners, I see. Coin is coin, nonetheless.”

Anneliese took out her pouch.

“I’ll take all of it.”

“All of it?” Her fingers wrapped around the pouch and moved it away from Ferris. “I don’t think so.”

Erika stepped in front of her friend. “You’re trying to swindle us.”

“Me? Ladies, ladies, I am simply a man of the trade.”

“One map doesn’t cost nearly as much as what’s in that pouch. We’ll take our business elsewhere.” Erika turned on her heels and marched past Ferris’ shop.

Anneliese stared at Ferris a moment longer. His greedy tendencies reminded her of Preminger. She shuddered.

“Anneliese?” Erika called out.

“Coming!”

“Wait, wait, wait! I’ll cut you a deal.” Unfortunately for Ferris, the two were long gone.

—

“Parthenia, that’s where we are. Cloud Kingdom goes in the opposite direction. Then there’s Fairytopia’s Magic Meadow. Mermaidia is close by. The Enchanted Forest and three small kingdoms. Huh.”

Anneliese peered over her shoulder. “So, is Magiana a continent? Or is it just a realm?”

“Good question, but we shouldn’t go too far. We have to get back home, remember?”

“Of course.”

As twilight set in, Anneliese and Erika strolled around, and despite their better wishes to not stay in Magiana too long, they stocked up on supplies.

Erika stopped dead in her tracks. “How did we get here, anyway?”

They looked at each other, then down at Wolfie and Serafina.

“If we don’t know how we got here, then how will we get back?” As realization set in, Anneliese sat down on the cold, stone floor. “Something’s wrong. Something has to be wrong. I mean, shouldn’t we have panicked more when we got here in the first place? One minute we were in the grasslands now we’re here and what if we don’t go home? Mother must be so worried. And Julian. I can’t imagine …”

“Dominick,” Erika whispered. “Oh no. We’re in trouble, Anneliese, big trouble.”

When they tried to retrace their steps all the way back to the grasslands, the only thing the girls found was a crossroads sign with the names ‘Fairytopia’ and ‘Mermaidia’ written on it. The girls slumped down and perhaps they would have stayed that way if it weren’t for their rumbling stomachs. It would’ve been a pleasant picnic except it was near dusk and really, they should’ve found an inn and they had to be careful of what they fed Wolfie and Serafina. Overall, it was a terrible night for the two girls and their cats as they lay wrapped up in their cloaks, taking turns with nightwatch although travelers would not catch sight of them until dawn.

—

Soft morning light painted its way among the horizon while Anneliese sat watching over everyone. Erika woke soon after, sure that she would awaken in her bed, with the option to sleep in. Alas, it was not true.

A tinkling sound followed by beautiful glittering powder swept around Anneliese and Erika. Fairies. Or faeries, sometimes referred to as the fae, they would sound learn came to greet them. They moved about in fluttering steps as the two girls and their cats watched, mesmerized. Serafina was too dignified to try and catch the fae, but Wolfie was not.

A stern look from Erika was enough to stop his mischief. “Wolfie, no,” she scolded him.

After the fae left, the girls ate breakfast in silence before setting off toward the docks once more. On their journey they talked of their plans to get back home. It was a heavy morning, despite the beauty of Magiana.

The world looked about as fairy tale-ish as Anneliese could imagine and today was far warmer than yesterday.

“Anneliese?”

“Hm?”

“Do you think any of this is real?”

“It might be. If we haven’t woken up yet from a dream, then it might as well be.”

“What if,” Erika sputtered. “Do you think … do you think …”

Anneliese shook her head. “I don’t know, Erika. Maybe.”

It was not a long walk back to the docks, much to Anneliese and Erika’s pleasure. The docks lulled in and out of sleep. Early mornings were quiet, but once 8 o’clock arrived, the townspeople suddenly came alive, scrambling about and laughing.

“I heard the shores would freeze over soon. Those poor merpeople.”

“I heard the fairies and the fae were preparing for The Big Frost.”

“It’s best to go to one of the three kingdoms during this time of year. Even the Enchanted Forest is better than here.”

“There’s quite a lot of knowledge hidden there, I hear.”

“Anneliese,” Erika whispered, grabbing her friend’s arm, “the Enchanted Forest, that’s it!”

“Of course.” Anneliese patted around for the map before finding it. “Aha! Here it is. How far away in the Enchanted Forest from here?”

“It’s located in one of the three kingdoms, see?” Erika pointed her finger toward the southernmost part of the map.

“Then that’s where we’ll go.”

Just as Anneliese spoke those words, a blast of arctic air poured forth.

“Let’s hurry before the weather gets worse.”

“Uh, Erika?”

“Yeah?” Erika’s turned to her friend.

“We need a ship to cross over.” Anneliese’s eyebrows scrunched up in worry. “And you heard them. Winter is coming.”

“We could always stow away,” Erika said, an impish smile on her face.

“Erika!”

“I’m joking, I’m joking. We’ll find a way, Anneliese, I promise.”

Anneliese’s shoulders sank as she looked around. The citizens of Magiana seemed happy enough and living here in Magiana wouldn’t be such a terrible time, and she hated herself for thinking such a thing. Her friends and family must be worried sick.

“We’ll make it across just fine. You wanted adventure in your life, right, Anneliese?”

A wary smile found its way onto her face. “Yes.”

“Then let’s go and ask one of the sailors if we can hitch a ride over to the three kingdoms.”

There weren’t many sailors willing to cross the sea before The Big Frost, and Anneliese and Erika were at their wits end, scurrying around, asking left and right if they could ‘please board your ship. We promise to pay you good money for the voyage.’

It worked.

Eventually.

“I am Captain Candy and I can assure you have a safe voyage across our seas,” the man stated, his brown skin glistening and the feather on his turban moving about in the wind.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Erika nearly wrapped arms around the man before remembering herself and gathering her composure. “Ahem. I’m Erika and this is my friend Anneliese. We’re not from around here.”

“Friends? I thought you were sisters.”

“We get that a lot,” Anneliese said.

“You two remind me of one my good friends, her name is—”

At the sound of a blowing horn, all three of them (plus Wolfie and Serafina) turned their attention toward one of the more majestic ships.

“Captain Candy, we are nine minutes late! Nine!” A dour old man stood firm and walked briskly toward said man.

“Major Mint, I’m certain we’ll arrive—”

“On time! Pah! That’s what you always say.”

Captain Candy sighed and signaled for the girls and their pets to board his ship.

“This is my ship, is it not?” Captain Candy countered. “You are nothing but a nuisance.”

“The insolence of this generation! Why, I would never have talked to my elders in such a way.” With that, Major Mint marched away rather stiffly. It was not a march like how one would walk, but an actual march that made Anneliese and Erika giggle.

“Don’t mind him. He’s just a grouch.”

The ship set sail six minutes later, to the dismay of Major Mint. He went about the deck fretting about this and that, not paying much mind to the passengers aboard the ship.

Anneliese went below the dock because as much as she would love to sit and watch the sea’s calm waters, but body was still tired from the night watch. Serafina followed her closely, her tail swishing back and forth before leaping onto the bed with Anneliese’s things.

“It’s far from glamorous, Serafina, but it does beat the mines, doesn’t it?”

It didn’t take long for Anneliese to fall into slumber with Serafina curled up next to her.

—

“How much?”

“Huh?” Captain Candy turned to look at Erika, puzzled.

“For the voyage, I mean.”

“Oh, that. 50 coins.”

“That’s it?”

“What? You want to pay more?”

Erika lifted her hands in protest. “No, no, I’m just surprised. Usually there’s a catch for things such as this.”

Captain Candy put a hand to his chin. “You girls seemed desperate. Kindness goes a long way.”

“I see.”

Erika mulled over Captain Candy’s words as she began eating an early lunch.

“Parthenia, huh?” She took a bite out of her sandwich. Genuine kindness was not common to Erika, especially after working at Madame Carp’s, but those days were behind her now. Far behind her.

A soft hum escaped her lips as Erika looked out toward the windy shores. Mermaids swam underneath the currents, but they weren’t doing any tricks today. Huh. And the fairies were nowhere to be found. She wondered where they were, briefly, as she chewed on a piece of her sandwich. Somehow, despite the ache in her heart, Erika felt the beauty all around her. The glistening shores, the soft pastels of the sky, everything.

Home was beautiful too, but there was something about Magiana she loved dearly. Someone might say it was the magic, but there was something more that Erika could not quite pinpoint.

If they couldn’t go back, what would that mean for her and Anneliese? Would they end up in Magiana forever?

Then there was the mystery of how they got here and why.

There were too many unanswered questions in Erika’s opinion.

The fae from before twirled around the ship.

“Snow Fae,” Captain Candy called out. “Oh, what a day. What a day. This doesn't look too good.”

“Snow Fae?” Erika asked.

“Yes, they’re technically fairies, but we call them the fae because of how tiny they are. Fairies here are human-sized.”

“Interesting.”

Despite the Snow Fae, no storms came about on their voyage to the three kingdoms.

Anneliese woke later and once she caught sight of the fae, she went about drawing and recording her findings into her journal.

“We’ll be in the three kingdoms in four days' time,” Major Mint said. “Late, I tell you. Late, late, late.” He pumped into Anneliese. “Pardon me, Clara.” He squinted his eyes as he took in Anneliese. “You’re not Clara.”

“I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

“The resemblance is quite striking though, isn’t it, Major Mint?”

“Yes, yes,” the old man grumbled. “Very strange indeed. Being on this ship takes me back to when we crossed the Sea of Storms.”

“We weren’t on a ship, then. And don’t you dare wish that kind of luck onto my ship,” Captain Candy admonished.

Major Mint rolled his eyes. “Pah! You ruin such good memories.”

“I wouldn’t call that a good memory.”

Erika and Anneliese shared looks before shrugging their shoulders.

They sat about the deck talking and laughing with their new friends. It didn’t matter to them whether or not the friend in question was a passenger or part of the ship’s crew.

Anneliese’s new favorite thing was to wake early in the morning to watch the sun ascend over the horizon. What kind of magic was in Magiana’s sunrise and sunset, she didn’t know, but a warmth spread all around her when she saw either. She wondered if Erika felt the same.

Theirs was a safe voyage, thankfully.

They arrived at the shores of the three kingdoms in the afternoon.

Anneliese and Erika waved goodbye to their new friends, their pets near their feet while they hoisted their bags over their shoulders.

“We’re here.” Anneliese breathed in the clean air. “Finally. All that we need to do now is find the Enchanted Forest.”

“But where do we start?” Erika asked, staring at the townspeople.

Their stomachs grumbled simultaneously.

“I’m hungry for something sweet, what about you, Erika?”

“I’m up for anything.”

The southernmost kingdom was by far the warmest of the kingdoms, but Anneliese and Erika did not know any of that. It was funny, while there was magic within the kingdoms, it was not nearly as overt as Parthenia or Fairytopia or even Mermaidia. Anneliese and Erika noticed right away.

“We should go looking for the Enchanted Forest later,” Anneliese suggested. “We should familiarize ourselves with everything here, eat, stock up on supplies, get rest.”

“You make a good point.” She twirled around. “You did mention eating something sweet.”

The two girls linked arms with each other.

—

When they caught sight of the nearest bakery, Anneliese and Erika were practically salivating at the mouth. While the cats whined in protest, the girls promised them they would feed them soon. Pastries and cats didn’t exactly go hand and hand.

The baker was a lanky, but kind old man with his graying black hair pulled into a ponytail. Anneliese liked him immediately.

“Anything you want, girls?”

“A dozen sugar cookies for me,” Erika stated as she brought out her own pouch full of coins.

The man shook his head and laughed. “Of course. And you?” he asked, looking at Anneliese.

“Danish cheese, if you don’t mind.”

While the girls waited for their food, angry shouts filled the air, causing Anneliese to huddle closer to Erika.

“What do you think it is?” she whispered.

“I don’t know.”

The shouts grew louder and louder and soon enough, Anneliese and Erika were peering through the windows of the bakery to see a crowd forming.

Anneliese and Erika did not yet know it, but they were about to embark on an epic quest across Magiana.

#barbie #bcu #barbie cinematic universe #barbie movies #barbie fanfic #barbie fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #barbie as the princess and the pauper #barbie in the nutcracker #barbie in swan lake #Barbie as rapunzel #barbie and the magic of pegasus #barbie fairytopia #barbie mermaidia

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anditvanisheslikemist · 2 years

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Oct. 2: Seasonal Candle Allergy

From @oh-no-my-hand-slipped's list of prompts. Hindsight 'verse (AO3). Nico/Matty. Read it on AO3 or below. List of all of my October prompt fills.

"Whhh…h'TCHIU!" He sniffles, but it's pointless, his nose is already tingling painfully again, just like after the last dozen sneezes. "Why are they in the fucking grohh.. EH'chh! grocery store? And right by the…hhh…." A pause, and he gets himself back together. "… the front doors—"

Matty rubs his back and steers him even further away from the display of extremely pungent autumnal candles, but the damage is done, and Nico's breath catches yet again.

"Like— heh-tCHOO! Those stores in the mall." He fumbles in his bag for more tissues and blows his nose. "Fine. That's thehh… TSCHHH! their dadtural—" He sniffs hard— "natural hahhh… ah'TSHIEW! habitat…" He trails off, eyes streaming, mouth slightly open. Somehow, they've wound up in the aisle with the canned beans. "They shouldn't be allow…" His breath catches and hangs there for a second, and then he shakes his head and keeps going. "Shouldn't be allowed out in the wild." He shifts uncomfortably at the tightness in his chest, and pulls his inhaler out of his bag. Shakes it. Takes a hit.

"Oh, believe me, I'm going to complain." Another shopper turns their cart into the bean aisle, catches sight of them, and hesitates. Matty glowers at them and they back out of the aisle. Nico rubs at his chest and doubles over with a forceful hhhuh…. AH'DZHIU! Matty pulls a handkerchief out of his back pocket and hands it to Nico, and Nico buries his face in it, scrubbing at the itch until the motion coaxes out another TSCHHHoo! "If Customer Service wasn't next to the fucking things, I would say we should go up there together and you could just sneeze in their general direction until they throw 'em in the dumpster."

Nico waves him off. He means it in a let's just finish shopping way, but his muscles are starting to ache like they always do when an allergy attack goes on a little too long. He presses his palm to his chest and tries to dampen the next set of 'tCHu! eh'TSCHiu! hhh'ngxxt… into the cloth of the handkerchief and fails with a ringing hhhETCHIEW!

"Okay." Matty presses him toward the other entrance with a hand firmly in the small of his back. Nico just lets himself be led. His eyes are watering too badly to see where he's going anyway. "We're done."

He wants to protest, but he's coughing again, and his head is tight and woozy with congestion. "Fuck," he gets out, and Matty hums in agreement.

Someone wearing the right colors to be an employee— Nico's long since taken off his glasses to rub at his eyes, so everything's even more blurry than before— starts to ask if they're okay, and Nico feels Matty tense beside him.

"If you can just—" Nico tries, hoping to head things off, but he breaks off sneezing again, a flurry of h'IT'chiu, ITCH'hu, hETCH'shoo… that his increasingly damp handkerchief isn't doing much against.

"It's your fucking candles!" Matty gestures sharply toward the entryway, where there's a smattering of sneezes from other people running the synthetic-fall-scents gauntlet.

"Oh. I'll…" The employee looks around nervously. "Okay."

Matty takes a breath like he's going to really go off, and Nico gets a hand on his arm in a way that he hopes conveys, they're not HIS candles, come on. "Sorry," Matty says, and takes another, more calming, breath. "Just… you guys should really get those out of here."

He doesn't wait for a response, just gets Nico out into the fresh air, and then into their car.

"Okay?"

Nico nods, already pulling out handfuls of tissues from the box in the car.

"I'm boycotting them."

"We don't…" Nico stops to catch his breath, but it's thankfully coming easier now. "We don't live in that big of a town."

"There's other grocery stores. In other towns."

"I… HET'chhuh! I appreciate the thought. We'll see if it sticks once winter hits."

Matty grumbles something in return.

Nico blows his nose one more time and sniffs experimentally. "Takeout tonight, though?"

Matty leans over and kisses his temple and turns on the car. "Sounds like a plan."

#sneeze fic #sneeze kink #snz #hindsight 'verse #anditvanisheslikemist writes #october prompts

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overboss-sid · 1 year

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Friends Like These

“I gotta stop by the agency before we head out,” Sid stated as she made her way through the bustling Diamond City market. The cool evening air carried the smell of noodles and the sounds of shop owners loudly peddling their wares to her nose and ears. It was...oddly comforting.

“Agency? Why?” MacCready had stopped to check out some new weapons Arturo had on display. He rushed to catch up to her, narrowly avoiding a collision with a guard who was eyeing him warily.

“I need to check in on a friend.” Sid didn’t even bother to look back to see if MacCready was following her or not. She wound her way through the back alleys until she came to a stop beneath the glowing neon sign of the detective agency.

Sid snorted. “More like the only detective.” She headed towards the door. “You can wait out here if you want. Or not. Whatever.” She opened the door and slipped inside. MacCready hesitated, then followed her.

“Valentine’s Detective Agency, huh? I’ve heard of the guy. Seen him in Goodneighbor a few times. Best detective in the ‘Wealth, apparently,” said MacCready, his face awash in the soft red light.

The place was more of a mess than usual. Files were stacked everywhere, scattered across every surface. There were two people digging through a file cabinet at the back of the room, both so engrossed in their task that they hadn’t noticed the two of them enter.

“Man, I leave for a few days and everything goes to shit,” Sid declared loudly, the corner of her mouth pulled up in a smirk. The two people turned abruptly at the sound of her voice.

“Sid! You’re back!” Ellie squealed, running over and throwing her arms around her. Sid awkwardly returned the hug. She wasn’t really the hugging type, but she liked Ellie, so she put up with it.

“Well, look who finally decided to show up. ‘I’ll check in regularly,’ my ass.” His voice was stern, but there was a smile playing on the detective’s lips.

“Nice to see you too, Nick.”

His face became serious. “You’ve been gone for over a week, Sidney. We weren’t sure what had happened to you. We were worried.”

“C’mon, Nicky, you know I can take care of myself.” Sid shuffled her feet and avoided the synth’s piercing yellow eyes like a child being scolded. “Was I really gone for that long?” She glanced over at Ellie, who nodded. “Huh, my bad. I was following a new lead. Time sure flies when you’re trying to break into the secret underground facility that kidnapped your son.”

“Wait, what?!” MacCready stood in the doorway, looking at her incredulously. She had honestly forgotten that he was there.

“Oh, yeah. Nick, Ellie, this is MacCready. MacCready, Nick Valentine and Ellie Perkins.” Nick tipped his hat and Ellie waved. MacCready nodded at them in acknowledgement, his glance lingering momentarily on Nick’s mechanical features, and then returned his gaze to Sid.

“Kidnapped your son? Secret underground facility? You haven’t mentioned any of that to me before.”

“Listen, Mac, it’s a long story.”

“Well, I wanna hear it. I told you my story. It’s only fair.”

Sid looked at Nick, who gave her a nod of encouragement. She sighed.

“Okay, okay. But first, I’m gonna need a drink.”

“We can head over to the Dugout Inn. Vadim will be glad that his favorite customer has returned," Nick suggested, grabbing his coat.

“Sounds good to me. Ellie, you coming?”

“I don’t know…” The secretary looked around at the mess of files. “I should really try to clean some of this up.”

“Oh, c’mon. You deserve a break, slaving away for this old synth like you do.” Ellie laughed and Nick rolled his eyes.

“Well…alright. But I can’t stay long.”

“Alrighty then. Let’s go.”

—————

“So now I have to try and scrounge up these parts so that we can build this Signal Interceptor thing to get me inside the Institute.”

“Shi- I mean, dang. That’s…nuts.” MacCready took a swig of his beer. The four of them were sitting at a table in a dark corner of the Dugout Inn, quietly discussing the horror of Sid’s not-so-distant past while the other patrons drank and made merry around them.

“So, now you know my story.” Sid sat back and contemplated MacCready, trying to gage his reaction. They sat there in silence for a moment before MacCready spoke.

“So what parts do we need to find for that teleporter thingy?”

Sid blinked in surprise. “What?”

“The parts. What are they? And any ideas where we can find them?”

“Mac, that’s not part of our deal. I hired you to help me with a different job, something a lot more small-time and a helluva lot less dangerous. You don’t need to worry about helping me with this. You’d be risking your neck, making yourself a target for the Institute.”

MacCready leaned in towards her, a look of determination in his eyes. “Listen, Sid, it’s the least I can do. I know you've already got friends helping you with this…” He gestured to Nick and Ellie. “But I owe you one. You helped me get a cure for my son, so I’m going to help you find yours. No matter the risk.”

“Mac, I…thank you.”

“Welcome aboard, MacCready.” Nick extended his good hand. MacCready hesitated, then reached out and shook it. “Good friends are hard to find these days. And we’re gonna need all the help we can get.”

“I’ll drink to that.” MacCready raised his bottle, and Sid and Ellie raised theirs to meet it. “To good friends!”

Sid smiled. “To good friends.”

—————

“You holding up okay?”

Sid blinked. She hadn't realized she'd been silently staring into the dregs of her drink for who knows how long. She looked up at Nick, who was now standing in front of her, concern in his eyes.

“I’m fine.”

“Hm. I don’t think we have the same understanding of that word.” Nick sat down next to her. They had moved from their table to a couch in the middle of the room, a lot closer to the bar. Sid watched as a rather intoxicated MacCready traded stories with Hawthorne, his hands animatedly illustrating everything he said. Ellie had left a while ago, vaguely mentioning that she had something to do. When Sid tried to get more info out of her she just blushed and babbled something Sid didn't quite catch before ducking out the door. The place had cleared out a bit since then, with most of the remaining patrons crowding the bar, leaving her and Nick alone on the ratty couch.

“Really, Nick. I’m fine. It’s everyone else I’m worried about. All the people I’m dragging into this. Into my mess.” Sid finished off what was left of her drink in one big gulp.

“Last time I checked, you didn’t drag anybody into this. We volunteered.”

“Still. What am I going to do if you get hurt? Or Ellie or MacCready? Or even Deacon?” Sid stared at the floor. “…I don’t want to lose anyone else.”

“Sidney.” Nick put a comforting arm around her shoulders. “We knew what we were getting into. Is there a chance one of us might get hurt? Well, yeah. That’s a no-brainer when going up against the big bad that is the Institute. But it’s a risk we’re willing to take. There’s no way in hell we’re gonna let you do this alone.”

“Nothing I can say will change your mind, will it.” It wasn’t a question. She knew what Nick was going to say before he said it.

“Absolutely not. And I’m sure everyone else would agree with me.” He squeezed her shoulder. “We’re going to get you your son back.”

Sid sighed and leaned in closer to Nick. “I don’t know what the hell I did to deserve all these friends who are willing to put up with my shit.”

“Pffft.”

“I don’t think you realize just how much good you’ve done, Sid.”

“I’m serious. You’ve helped a lot of people since you left that vault, despite everything you were going through.”

“So what? I mean, it's a difficult existence these days, living in the remnants of what was. People are just trying to survive. If I have the chance to make things easier for them, to keep them from suffering the way I have, why wouldn’t I help? It doesn’t cost me anything. I have nothing left to lose. Or, well…I didn’t, anyway.” She looked into Nick’s neon eyes for the first time that night. “That’s changed now.”

Nick held Sid’s gaze for a moment until a sudden rush of awkwardness came over her and she quickly looked away. Her eyes fell on MacCready, who appeared to be telling Vadim his favorite, and often over-exaggerated, story of the time he took down a deathclaw.

“I should talk to Yefim and see if there are any rooms available. There’s no way we’re leaving the city anymore tonight.” She stood up a little too fast and wobbled a bit before she felt a hand on her back, steadying her.

“Or you could stay at the agency. Save you some caps.” Nick made sure she wasn’t going to fall over before removing his hand.

“And where would Mac sleep? I am NOT sharing a bed with him. He snores.”

Nick chuckled. “He can sleep in Ellie’s bed. She won’t be needing it.”

Sid raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“She’s been spending the nights with her new beau.”

“I KNEW IT!” Several people at the bar turned at Sid’s shout. “I knew that was why she left early! Who is it? Do I know him?”

“Probably not. He manages the greenhouse.”

“Huh. Good guy?”

“Seems like it. But I’m keeping an eye on him.”

“Of course you are,” Sid laughed as they walked over to the bar. She tapped MacCready on the shoulder.

“Sid! Hey! Good timing.” MacCready put his hand on her shoulder. “Vadim here doesn’t believe me about the deathclaw.”

“Good. He shouldn’t.” Sid counted out some caps and dropped them on the bar. “Pretty sure I took down the deathclaw while you hid in a tree.”

“I’m a sniper! I was getting a good vantage point! And I definitely got the kill shot.”

“Whatever you say, buddy.” She made a show of rolling her eyes, earning a chuckle from Vadim. “Let’s go. We’re heading out.”

“Alright.” MacCready threw back the last of his beer and hopped off the barstool he had been sitting on, teetering a bit. “Lead the way, boss.”

Sid winked at Vadim and the three of them left the building. A hush had fallen over the city. Most of the shops were closed for the night, and most of the city's residents had retired to their homes after the long day's work. The three companions stood out front of the Dugout Inn, reveling in the newfound peace and quiet for a moment.

“Shall we?” Nick broke the silence, offering Sid his arm. She looked at him in amusement before taking it.

“Always the gentleman.”

Arm in arm, they made their way back to the agency, MacCready trailing behind them.

—————

“In we go.” Nick held the door of the agency open and ushered Sid and MacCready inside.

“We staying here tonight?” MacCready asked as he stumbled through the doorway.

“Yep. You get the bed upstairs, I’ll take the one down here.”

MacCready looked at the two beds, then at Sid, and then at Nick. His eyes narrowed. “And what about him?”

“Don’t you worry about me, kid.” Nick couldn’t help but smile at the suspicious look on MacCready’s face.

“He’s a synth, Mac. He doesn’t sleep.”

MacCready looked skeptically from Sid to Nick once more and then shrugged.

“Okay, guess I’ll hit the hay then.” He headed up the rickety stairs, turning around about halfway up. “If you two could, you know, keep it down, that would be much appreciated.”

Sid grabbed a pencil off a nearby dresser and threw it at him. He tried to dodge it and nearly fell off the stairs.

“Alright, alright, I’m going!” He scurried up the last few steps and disappeared. Sid laughed and glanced at Nick, who was shaking his head.

“Oh come on, Nick. He’s lucky I threw a pencil and not my knife.”

“Well, I suppose he would have gotten the point either way.” They looked at each other and burst out laughing. Sid leaned against a desk to steady herself. Her fingertips brushed one of the many files scattered about. One word on the paper caught her eye, and she carefully lifted the file and brought it closer to the light.

“Shaun…” She whispered the word, as if simply speaking his name could summon her son from the depths of the Institute. She scanned the rest of the file, reading each of Nick’s scribbled notes about herself and her lost child.

“Hey, we’ll find him, Sid. I promise.” Nick placed a hand on her arm. Embarrassed, Sid quickly wiped away the tears that had sprung to her eyes. Damn alcohol had made her weepy.

“I know we will.” She looked up into Nick's eyes for a moment before dropping her gaze to the floor. “But what if…what if we find him and he doesn’t recognize me? He was so young when he was taken from the vault…from me.” She stifled a sob. Keep it together, Sid. She was not about to let herself break down like that. Not in front of Nick.

“Hey, now, don’t worry about that. He will recognize you. Kids have that instinct.” Nick leaned against the desk next to her. “If nothing else, he’ll know your voice. I’ve seen it before.”

Sid sniffed and tried to stealthily wipe away another rogue tear. They sat in silence for a while, broken only by the occasional sniffle from Sid and the muffled snores from MacCready.

Suddenly Nick stood up and walked across the room. A radio sat atop one of the many file cabinets. Nick fiddled with it for a moment, and soon the room was filled with music. He turned it down so that it played softly in the background and walked back over to where Sid was slumped against the desk.

“Nick, what on earth are you doing?”

He offered her his good hand. “You need a distraction.”

She stared at his hand and then up at his face, bemused. “Nick, that’s not-”

“Trust me.”

She hesitated for only a moment before sighing and taking his hand. “End of the World” by Skeeter Davis started to play over the radio, slow and sweet. Sid placed the hand that wasn’t holding Nick’s on his shoulder, and he placed his on her waist. They began to sway slowly to the rhythm of the music. She followed his lead, and soon they were waltzing around the room, avoiding the stacks of files as best they could.

To her surprise, the distraction worked. It reminded her of how Nate used to try to put a smile on her face when she was having a bad day by twirling her around their kitchen back in the day. He had always been there to support her, to pick her up if she fell. To hold her when she needed to be held, despite her objections. And then suddenly he was gone.

But being here now, with Nick, it felt like maybe he wasn’t gone. Not completely. Some piece of him was still here, with her. And he wouldn’t want her to give up, just like Nick didn’t want her to give up. Nick believed in her just like Nate would have. She felt her drive return, that determination to find her son no matter what. Somehow, she knew that everything would work out.

She leaned her head against Nick’s shoulder. “Thank you, Nick. For everything.”

He smiled. “Anytime, doll.”

The music stopped and Travis’ voice came over the radio, stuttering his way through an advertisement for Moe Cronin’s Swatters. Nick and Sid stood in the center of the room, each a bit reluctant to let the other go. The spell was broken when Sid let out a massive yawn. Nick chuckled.

“Time for the human to go to bed.”

He reluctantly stepped away from her and went to turn off the radio. When he turned back around, Sid was attempting to stifle another yawn and failing.

“Bedtime, sleepyhead.”

“Yeah, yeah, I heard you the first time.” She started to make her way to the back bedroom, but paused for a moment. She turned and walked back up to Nick, giving him a quick peck on the cheek.

“Goodnight, Nick.”

“Goodnight, Sid.”

He watched as she crossed the room and disappeared around the corner into the bedroom. Once she was out of sight, he sank down into his desk chair. He carefully touched his cheek where she had kissed him and sighed.

You’re getting yourself in too deep with this one, Valentine, he thought as he cast one last look in the direction of the bedroom. He set to work going over his case notes, the feeling of her lips still lingering on his synthetic flesh.

#guess who's been editing this two year old fic #repost #oc: sidney wallace #nick valentine #ellie perkins #maccready #oc x nick valentine #fallout 4 #fallout #my fic

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froggyinaspen · 1 year

Text

Between Comfort and Chaos: CH 2

Link to CH 1 Above ^^^^^^^

Also available on Wattpad/ AO3

OminisxMC- SLOWWWWWW BURN

Word Count: 3,124

Butterflies

Lessie's POV

The wind whipped my face causing strands of auburn hair to dance out of its braid as I took a sharp turn towards the outer walls leading towards the Black Lake. The air was mostly calm at this altitude but had a slight chill. There was a tightness in my cheeks and nose, and I knew for a fact I would have a nice bout of wind rash. I mentally cursed myself for not switching out of my school robes into my woolen cloak. It was not unbearable due to the man gripping my waist with the ferocity of a Chinese chomping cabbage. At least he was safe from the wind. His head had finally moved from its position on my neck.

THANK THE GODS.

He had always had an effect on me, and with this close proximity it sent little heat waves through my blood. Luckily my heart rate could be attributed to the feat of maneuvering the air current. I swiveled my head to look back briefly. He was being too quiet, probably still brooding.

“How goes it back there?”

Ominis had a look of contentment on his face. Not quite a smile but I could most certainly change that. His eyes shone causing the shadows to leave his face. He was perfectly beautiful, and I couldn’t understand how his hair was not damaged by the high speed of air movement. Blast him and his stupidly perfect hair. It was unfair.

Hmm… Let’s see if we can fix that.

“This is lovely, just what I needed,” He called out.

His mirth made me want to pull more emotions out of him. I angled the broom downward descending into a steep drop. The sudden decrease in elevation caused the birds nest attached to my head to smack my face relentlessly, obscuring my vision. I swear one of these days I’m just going to cut the nuisance off, decent society be damned. I quickly brushed it away as we were riding just above the surface of the lake. Slowing down mildly and tilting to the right I called back over my shoulder.

“Stick your right hand downward.”

He did as instructed without question and I couldn’t help but smile when he gave a hoot, causing me once again to swivel my head in his direction. Good thing Madam Kagawa wasn’t here. I could just hear her chastisements about responsible flying. His eyes lit up as his fingers skimmed the cool surface causing little rivulets to jump and pop as we sped by. His lithe fingers were dancing in and out of the water. It was euphoric how much glee he was expressing. I wondered what the sensation must feel like to him. His other hand was gripping tighter around my waist in an attempt to counterbalance. My heart swelled. If only he could always be this carefree. He began to laugh as we sped up once more, moving the arm back to connect with its pair.

There we go, less grumpy.

“As you can probably tell, we are currently above the lake. We are going to continue on southward towards Lower Hogsfield. Shouldn’t be more than 5 minutes at the most.” My voice seemed to carry on the wind giving it an echo-like quality. There was a slight shift behind me. I felt the warmth back on my neck as Ominis pressed his lips close to my ear, head almost nuzzling into me. My grip tightened on the broom handle.

“Wonderful, I can’t wait to find out how this adventure unfolds.”

A chill overtook me as my heartbeat a bit louder following suit with the one pressed against my back. His voice had been barely a whisper, but it caused a fluttery pang in my chest. The hot breath in my ear and the press of my friend behind me felt almost indecent. I was enjoying this a little too much.

Concentrate on flying you baboon!

We crested over the last crops of trees, my eyes trained on the grown over stone circle about a kilometer ahead. As we began to make our descent, I took a quick peak back at my companion once more. His eyes were closed, head tilted back facing the sun. My heart warmed, knowing that I had helped bring a bit more solace to the sullen man. It was a shame to have to bring him back down to Earth... literally.

“Hey Ominis!”

“Mmmh?” His head tilted back forward, eyes opening.

“We are just about there. I am going to start bringing us down. Make sure you extend your legs for the drop.” I gave the instructions as he obeyed.

As we touched down and dismounted, I took my wand out once more casting Reducio, and put my now toothpick sized broom in my pocket. Hopefully, this time I won’t misplace it. The number of times I had to buy a new broom in the past year was too high. I could have funded a whole quidditch team with the amount of galleons I spent at Spintwitchs’.

“I was wondering how you were storing that thing.” The blonde stated as he came to stand beside me.

“Comes in quite handy, for a number of items if you don’t have a nab-sack.” I smiled before setting off at a brisk pace toward the stone circle. “Speaking of things that can come in handy, I need your help with something.”

Ominis trailed behind, wand pulsing as he went. “How can I offer my services, Ms. Aspen?”

I went on to explain about the different Merlin trials that had been left behind by one of Slytherin’s more notable members and how you had the privilege of being let in on the secret by none other than the Nora Treadwell. Ominis listened, enraptured by the tale, patiently waiting until the end to ask his queries.

“So, you are telling me that even with everything going on last year you somehow had time to gallivant all across Scotland to participate in these…... trials?” His eyebrows were raised in astonishment. He seemed genuinely surprised.

I shuffled from foot to foot. It felt like a rebuked, even though I could tell he was in awe.

“Well, yes, and I only have three left to do before I complete them all. Two of which are in this area.”

A wide smirk turned the corners of his mouth up as excitement played up his features. He crossed his arms and took a defiant stance, slowly tapping his foot. “I suppose you would like me to help you solve these last puzzles?”

It was more of a statement than a question and I nodded. “Yes, if you wouldn’t mind. The first one is rather simple. However, the second is a bit more challenging, so if you aren’t up for it I completely understand.”

“Come now. When have I ever turned down a challenge.” He let out a haughty breath and then waved his hand commandingly. “Lead the way.”

We approached the circle, and I reached back into my pocket, this time taking the small burlap bag I kept herbs in and pulled the drawstring out of its knot, allowing me access into the pouch. I fished out a handful of pungent leaves, turning back to my companion.

“All right, for this trial we are acting as butterfly catchers. It’s rather simple as I said before. We just need to locate them, which I can do with Revelio however sometimes they are in awkward places.”

He lifted one of his eyebrows questioning, “Awkward places? Meaning places, you think would be difficult for me to get to?”

I let out an exasperated sigh, “Honestly, Ominis? No, awkward as in once I had to run away from two dunbogs at once while keeping Lumos cast so I didn’t have the find the bloody things again. We aren’t by a river, so I think we’re safe from that aspect. However, I would prefer not to put you in harms way.”

“Ahh, well then. Butterflies….” He tutted with satisfaction.

“Yes, butterflies. When I toss this mallowsweet into the stone circle there are three pillars around it with bright crystals inside them that glow. We need to locate the butterflies, cast Lumos to act as a beacon for them and then lead them to a pillar. Release your cast and they should go into the pillar. Once all three pillars have their bugs, we complete the trial and a large pagoda-like arch covered in vines appears on top of the stone circle and the mallowsweet leaves transforms into a hallow statue of Merlin. Its quite simple.”

I looked over at him, reading the amusement on his face. His stance had changed from a guarded one to an easy one. Legs shoulder width apart and hands at his sides waiting for further instructions.

“Ah, easy. Just catch a flock of butterflies and lead them home. Brilliant!” The familiar sarcasm was returning. Good.

“Are you ready?” I asked tentatively.

“Yes, let’s begin shall we.”

I brought my closed fist to the center of the circle and released the herbs, watching as the leaves began their lazy journey to the ground. They spiraled down as a tendril of magic began to emanate from the stones. There was a familiar tinge of ancient magic that thrummed in my veins. The ground began to shake slightly, and I looked at the concern on Ominis’ face. I mentally chastised myself for leaving that part out. This was a new sensation for him and one that he wouldn’t likely forget. It was nice to make memories with him like this. I had felt I had neglected him over the summer and was vying to make up the lost time. The vines around the stone pillars began to retract back into the ground. The shaking stopped and surrounding us were the eerie cerulean lights of the crystals snug inside their pillars.

“Revelio!” With my wand straight in the air I cast the spell and was soon greeted with the illumination of three kaleidoscopes relatively close. One on top of a ledge, another further down the path to the right and then one straight ahead in the open field. I turned to my silent companion.

“Are you able to locate them by casting Revelio as well, or should I describe the locations?” It was a genuine question. I genuinely had no idea how his wand worked and at this point felt it would be an unwelcome question. I often played over the idea that it was like a bat’s echolocation.

“Could you describe the locations for me?” He asked, expression unreadable.

I could detect a slight hint of amusement in his voice, and he twirled his wand between his two hands, heels rocking.

“Well, you have three options. The first one is about 10 meters straight in front of you. The terrain is mostly flat and it’s in an open field so you should be able to hear the flutter of their wings well. The second one is to just a stone throw down the path to my right. Slight incline, easy grab.”

“And the third one is…. awkward?” He tilted his head bearing a wicked smile. I rolled my eyes.

“You could say that. The real question is are you fine with potentially ruining your trousers?”

“E-excuse me? Ruin my trousers?” A vibrant blush began to spread across his cheeks reaching up to his ears.

“The third one is directly behind you, about 100 meters up on a ledge. So, unless you’re an Animagus as well as a Parselmouth. I can’t see you directly scaling it, which leads to the option of taking the goat path through a batch of brambles.”

There was a prolonged silence. I started second guessing my approach to this.

“Wait…. Are you also an Animagus?” I questioned.

Ominis let out a laugh, placing his hands on his knees as it took over his body. It was quite infectious and soon I was also laughing. “Don’t be daft! You’ve seen me in potions class, correct? I dear say Sharp would have some questions when I can barely get a wiggenweld to turn out correctly.”

The reality of the question was completely absurd. I wiped a tear from my eye. My sides were beginning to hurt. “I do recall J. Pippins’ suspiciously running out of a number of vials near the end of term. I assume that was your handy work?”

He wiped his eyes and straightened his wand arm out. The tip pulsing, “I may be a Slytherin but, I do not kiss and tell Aspen.” He turned around facing the ledge after giving me one of his snarky smiles. “And as far as my trousers are concerned, how I chose to ruin them is my choice. Now, you go catch your butterflies and I shall catch mine.” With that he set off up the embankment.

Smart-ass. I hope you do ruin your trousers.

Turning on my heel, I set off to collect the first set of butterflies. Ominis was self-sufficient and for all his miserly behavior I knew he would most likely get done before I had even gotten back with one of my kaleidoscopes. I cast once more and saw the first set ahead. I jumped off the rock I was standing on and broke off at a leisurely pace. This area of lower Hogsfield was breathtaking in the early fall. The grass had died away under the shadow of the mountains causing the once verdant valley to become a smoky straw color. Standing in the open plain you could see clear down to the other side of the valley, smoke rising from the small villages on either side of the great expanse. It was like looking at the underpainting on an artist’s canvas, all sepia and burnt umber tones. Now was not the time to get distracted by scenery, however, we were on a time limit.

I hopped onto a rock right in front of my target and did a quick 360 breathing in the fresh air. Scanning for threats and seeing none I leapt down and landed within the fluttering mass. I felt the small kiss of wings fluttering against my exposed skin as I summoned the light to the tip of my wand. In a quick swoosh they flocked to the light, and I made quick work bringing them back to the pillar. Releasing the spell, in front of it, they converged into the crystalline center.

My eyes travelled up the path Ominis would have taken, scanning for him. He was nearly at the top now and looking wholly intact. The brambles must have set him back in pace. I smiled to myself and turned back to get the second target. The path to the right was quick and within the span of a minute or so I was walking back to the pillar. I release the second cluster of butterflies and turned just in time to see the blonde coming down the side of the path a triumphant smile gracing his features. He exuded an air of confidence as he walked up to the final pilar, not a hair out of place and clothing intact.

“Nox.” The confidence extended to his voice, and he beamed. The aura radiated true satisfaction and I couldn’t help being infected by it as the last of our charges found their home. A rumbling filled the area and within seconds the before mentioned pagoda appeared. Vines wrapped around the arbor creating a very aesthetic shelter. The mallowsweet version of Merlin stood in the middle and I quickly grabbed Ominis by the wrist, pulling him forward to touch the leaves before they disintegrated. He quickly righted his balance and caressed the barely-there visage. As if it had never been the leaves dropped to the ground as quickly as they came.

He turned and looked at me, eyes soft, hand still out, his voice coming out in a laugh.

“To be honest, it just felt like a pile of leaves.”

His hand was still hovering where Merlin once was. I took it in my hand and brought it down, interlacing mine with his and smiled widely.

“We make a great team.” His body shifted but he didn’t pull away.

“I would have to agree.” There was a brief moment of awkwardness and then he carried on, “Now you said that you had two more trails left until you were complete.” He raised his eyebrow inquiring.

“ Yes, the one close to here has a timed jumping mechanism that I can’t seem to get quite right. I would love to get your perspective on it.”

“And the final one?” He asked, running his thumb over the callous on my palm once more. This time the insecurity died down. I had always hated how rough my hands were, but somehow in his hands they felt like less of a burden. The movement stopped and I looked up at his body close to mine.

“Did you hear me?” He asked once more, tilting his head to the side.

“W-what?” I stuttered lost from the sensation of his ministrations.

“What is the final trial?” He repeated with manicured patience as if speaking with a child.

“Oh, yes, that!” I drew in a breath retracting my hand to avoid continued distraction. “Mhm, that one is more of a day trip. I would have to travel all the way to Cragcroftshire. I meant to get it done this summer, but as you know I was babysitting.” I stressed the emphasis on babysitting, earning a chuckle from my companion.

“ Well, when you do plan on going I would be more than happen to accompany you.” The slight blush was back and I couldn’t help but smile at the prospect of spending the whole day with the man in front of me. The sun was starting to wane, and we only had about an hour before the dinner bell would sound.

“I would love for you to come if it isn’t too much of a burden.”

“You are never a burden.” He stated without hesitation.

It was my turn to blush as my brain short-circuited trying to formulate coherent sentences. I managed to choke out the semblance of coherency.

“Perfect! Well, shall we scurry over to the next trial and plot our conquest?”

He nodded and I pulled the toothpick sized broom out of my pocket once more tossing it to the ground as I unholstered my wand to cast the enlargement spell.

“Engorgio!” With a static crack the broom grew back to its original size.

“Shall we?” I asked, extending my hand and within seconds his hand was once again in mine ready for another adventure.

#fluff #hogwartslegacy #ominis x mc #ominisgauntxmc #ominisgaunt #ominis fluff #ominis gaunt

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plush-rabbit · 3 years

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The Brothers + Diavolo Making You Flustered

Request: Hi!hi! The aphrodisiac writing was absolutely *chefs kiss*. I have this habit of when I get embarrassed/flustered I immediately bury my face into the surface in front of me. Like if I’m sitting on the floor I’ll lean over and bury my face on the carpet, sitting at a table I’ll lean over and plant my face on the surface etc. How do you think the brothers (+diavolo if that’s okay) would react to seeing MC do that for the first time when they make them flustered? You’re so talented by the way! ily!

Word Count: 1K each

A/N: I hope you like this!! It was a bit difficult since i didn't want to make everything the same, but yeah!!

Lucifer:

His sleeves are rolled up, flour coating the tips of his fingers and dusting across his apron, and the smell of garlic and onion fills the room. It smells lovely, it smells like a home. You stand beside Lucifer, watching as the water boils, bubbles fizzling out and steam rising. A box of noodles is held in your hands, your eyes peering over to where the bread is held in his hands. Your tongue peeks between your lips- it’s a soft pink, tinged with blue from candy and for a moment, he forgets himself, wanting to taste the candy that rests on your tongue, wishing that he were your lips to feel the gentle caress of your tongue.

“Remind me what we’re making again?” You ask, sniffing at the pot, only to scrunch your nose at the scent. “And why it’s us making it?”

“A Devildom dish,” he responds, giving a side glance. “It’s similar enough to a human cousine, so you needn’t worry about it being anything unsavory.” He turns to you, his smile almost teasing. “And we’re making it because it’s our turn on cooking duty.”

“If you wanted to spend time with me, you could always ask.” While your words are true, he tries to hold his composure, not wanting to reveal that you had hit the nail on its head. “You don’t have to assign us both to cooking duty. It’s pretty sneaky for you, dear Lucifer.” Your hand pats at his back and he promptly turns away from you

Walking away from you, he starts the timer on the oven, the preheat button lights up as the oven begins to glow. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I drew our names on a complete random.” He turns to you, his smile making you unable to see what he’s really thinking. “Do you not wish to spend time with me?” he asks cooly, walking towards you. Despite the flour on his hands that dusts over his face, and the apron wrapped around him, he still holds an aura of confidence and authority that makes you break away from his gaze first.

“You’re absolutely awful,” you mutter, giving him a grin to let him know that it was a playful insult.

“And yet, you’re still here,” he coos, his grin wicked and cool at the same time. “I must not be totally awful if you still wish to spend time with me.” You groan, shaking your head with a smile on your lips and he turns to hide his more giddy smile, smiling calmly when the oven beeps. The preheat session is done. He opens the oven, a wave of hot air making him knit his brows together for a moment. “There’s no need to be ashamed of being so fond of me. I am Pride, it’s only natural that you would gravitate towards me.” He grabs the rack of bread, carefully slipping it inside the oven and closing the door.

“Well you’re a lot more than Pride to me.” His eyes widen and he turns to you, his body facing towards the oven with his head half-turned. “You’re Lucifer. You’re someone close to me and well, I actually am glad that we got to spend time together. I would love to hear you admit that you simply wanted to spend time with me, but-” you shrug- “you’ve got that stubborn pride that I can’t help but adore.” You turn to him, a cheeky smile on your face that matches the light in your eyes.

It’s silent between the two of you. It’s comforting, one that is welcomed and isn’t making either of you awkward. He watches as you carefully stir the pot, your index skimming under the words of the cookbook. Your brows furrow as you carefully read over the direction, careful to not add the wrong ingredient or wrong measurement. You’re methodical, carefully going about everything, and in the kitchen with Lucifer, he can’t help but smile at you, his smile soft and eyes crinkled as he watches you carefully.

“I know I haven’t told you this enough- or perhaps before-” silverware clinks together as he reaches over from a baking brush, his eyes never leaving yours- “but I’m actually quite proud of you.” He tears his gaze away from you, his smile widening and his chest puffing. “You have this knack about you that makes it so easy for others to fall for you, that I have to admit that even I have fallen victim to you.” The baguettes are painted over with a mixture of garlic and spices, his words never stopping or falling to hesitation as he speaks. “You’re-” he sighs, not knowing how to put what he wants to say into words- “I’ve been Lucifer for such a long time, living and holding power, but I must say, when I’m around you, I feel more me than I ever had in my entire existence.” He turns his body to you, his hands open and knuckles brushing over your cheek, a thin line of white left against your face. “I’m glad that I’ve gotten to meet you.”

His eyes widen, his words finally registering to his ears. He looks up, eyes meeting the stone wall before he turns to you, his mouth agape and hands still holding a baguette, and the baking brush. The garlic and onion sizzle on the stove, the yellow glow of the kitchen and the buzzing sounds of the outside do everything to fill the room, not a single ounce of silence is graced to either of you.

“You can’t just say stuff like that!” You say in a hurried tone, your face hot enough that you can feel sweat start to bead. “It’s- It’s-” you can’t find the proper words, it isn’t embarrassing but it isn’t something that you hear everyday- “Ah!” You decided, burying your face further into the table, your hands cushioning the blow.

His hand claps over your back, slowly rubbing between your shoulder blades in an attempt to soothe you over. “I would have thought you would have enjoyed hearing the truth,” he teases lightly. “Was I wrong about that assumption?” he presses, his elbow nudging against your shoulder where you still lay with your head rested in your hands.

You peer upwards, your face slowly revealed to show a flushed color that makes his chest puff with pride, his smile . “You wanna know why I know that you wanted to spend time with me?” Lucifer raises his brows in confusion. “I hadn’t written down my name yet.” His smile twitches away for a moment. “You called it before I could even write my name down.” You smile at him, your smile gentle. “I still have the paper in my pocket. You really like me, huh Lucifer?”

Mammon:

Textbooks are left open, pencils and pens sprawled over the coffee table as you and Mammon rest on the couch. He talks vividly, and as he’s excited to tell you stories of his past, his mouth works faster, skipping over details and returning to them moments later. Your hands are wrapped tight around his bicep, your face hidden as you try to stifle your laughter. He can feel your hands tighten, the way that you cling to him and even try to push yourself closer to him. “So that was when I decided to just grab all the things I could carry and just book it!” Mammon exclaims, clapping his hands together and extending his right arm forward. “You should’ve seen how angry those witches were, but hell, they deserved it for thinking they could pull one over on me.” He turns to you, his grin wicked, slowly widening as he leans back cautiously to not let you move away from him. “Fuckers should’ve known to not touch my stuff.”

You let out a laugh, shaking your head and leaning onto him. His smile twitches for a second, softening into a gentler smile, watching as you turn your face into his arm, trying to stifle your laughter. It’s loud, infectious and it’s something that reminds him of a spring day that he once spent in the Human Realm. He isn’t sure how to explain it- something about it that screams life and youth, something that sounds so unapologetically like you, that it makes him breathless. When you start to pull away, he lets his grin widen, eager to look at you again.

He’s so close to you, your hand within arm’s reach that if he really wanted to, he could just take it in his. His mouth goes dry, his tongue too invasive in his own mouth and he watches as you adjust your hair, his eyes fixated on how your hair slips through your fingers. There are words stuck in his throat, but no matter what he thinks of to say, he isn’t sure what he should say. He’s at a loss, wondering what would be the perfect way to bring back the mood, to continue the conversation without it being forced, but in all honesty, he’s fine, just sitting here with you. He’s more than fine with just staring at you.

“Hey, Mammon?” He jolts at his name being said, a shock running through his spine. He nods his head, swallowing what little saliva is in his mouth. “I really like hearing your stories, you know?” You smile softly at the book in your hands. He watches you with unblinking eyes, wondering what it is that you’re getting at. “I really just like listening to your voice. I know you were stuck with me at first-” internally he flinches, he doesn’t like to reminisce when you were first put under his charge- “but I’m glad that it was you.” He is left breathless, his muscles tense as you look at him, a smile stretching past your lips and gracing your lips. You look at him for a moment, your eyes darting to where his hand is clenched tightly and you nod to yourself, turning your attention back to the book.

You’re facing away from him, your fingertips tracing over the edge of a page as you try to focus on the words but he can tell from the pout on your lips that you aren’t registering anything from the book. What should he say? What can he say? He knows he has to say something. He knows that he should match your energy or at least attempt to but he can’t. There are so many things he wants to tell you, and they all seem so disorganized. You’re pretty. You’re nice to him and you always let him sneak into your bedroom late at night. You rely on him and as much as you need him, he needs you more. You have such a soft touch that it leaves him tingling all over as if some ghost were the one responsible for it. He lets out a slow breath, his lips parted slightly as he breathes out. “You know,” he says quietly, his fingers twitching and moving to clutch at the end of your shirt, “you got a real nice laugh. It’s nice to spend time with you, ya know?” Once he’s started talking, he’s unable to quiet himself, unable to register the things that he’s saying to you. “I like hanging out with other demons and all, but there’s something about you that I like more. It’s like with you-” his hand waves in the air, eyes glancing around your room- “I get to just feel safe. I get to relax and know that I can count on you. And I want you to know that no matter what, I’ll always be on your side. Forever and ever.” Mammon turns his head, his smile stretched wide and hand going to cover yours. “You turned me into a sap, ya know?’”

The moment is tender as he smiles down at you, only to slowly realize the weight of his words as you stop in your movements, your fingers letting the page fall back to the others, words lost upon themselves as your shoulders rise. His eyes widen and his lips thin. Heat creeps upwards from his chest and scorches its way to mar his features, his face turning into a darker shade as he flushes. His mouth goes dry, unable to produce any type of saliva as he sits beside you. Slowly, his mouth parts, and he’s unable to find the words to deny what he just said, but before he can, you curl in on yourself, burying your way into your hands, your hands spread and fingers parting to cover as much of your face as it can.

“I-” he coughs loudly into the rook of his elbow. You can tell that he wants to resort to his usual denial of feelings but he stops himself before he can even reach the middle of his sentence. “Listen, just because you-” you can feel his eyes on you- “will ya look up at me? I’m not gonna tear your head off or anything, I just don’t want you getting a bigger head than you already have.” You slowly turn to him, watching as he tries to avoid your gaze. “Let’s just go get a bite to eat. We can’t study on empty stomachs or whatever.” He rises quickly, his hand held out to you as he keeps his attention out on the door. “Come on, I’ll pay for ya and everything.”

Your lips thin and you look at his hand. You inhale a sharp breath of air, slowly letting it go. His face is still flushed, a deep color that burns against his skin. “Like a date?” You ask, hoping to see more of his reactions. He stiffens at your question, his brows furrowing to meet each other. He stammers out a response, clearly flustered. You lay your hand on his and he immediately quiets down. You smile at yourself, your heart skipping a beat as you realize that it was you who brought him to such a state. Slowly, his hand curls with yours and he gives a brief nod of his head.

Leviathan:

Leviathan sits alone in his room, a blanket pooled around his lower half, his eyes have begun to burn, tinged with red from lack of sleep as bright colors flash across his pale face. An empty bowl save for kernels that rest at the bottom of the bowl, his fingertips tinged with red and he can feel his mouth heavy with acid and past snacks.

His hands tap against his controller, his fingers already reaching toward a button before he can even register what he should press. His mind is on autopilot, reaching and stiffening when an enemy nears and even so, his character is still killed. He lets out a frustrated groan, careful to throw his controller towards his pillows and not the walls- he can’t risk losing yet another controller; least of all having to patch a hole- or in his case, covering it with a poster. His hands are thrown into the air, fingers outstretched before they are curled into a fist. He arches his back forward, the heels of his hands cushioning his eyes. He tears up slightly, wincing at the sudden realization of burning pain that lingers in his eyes. Slowly, he pulls away just in time to hear his door creak open.

“Password,” he says with a lack of conviction, turning slightly to watch as you enter with a bag in your hand. He raises his brows, his arm stretching outward as he blindly searches for his controller. “What do you have there?” He jerks his chin, returning his attention to the game in front of him.

The light clicks on- something bright that fills the room in a soft blue that stretches around him. He winces at the sudden light, the controller dropped onto his lap as he rubs his eyes vigorously. If it weren’t obvious enough that he kept himself secluded in his room, it was obvious from the way that he rubbed at his eyes, and had to blink multiple times before he could finally look at you without shielding his eyes. You end him a wicked smile that slowly grows until you reveal your teeth, the bag in your hand held slightly tighter. In response, he sticks his tongue out at you, his cheeks tinted with a pale shade of pink.

“I’m surprised it’s taken you so long to defeat the boss,” you say, walking towards the bathtub where he sits. You sit in front of the porcelain, your gaze fixated on a television system that he has set up for a more immersive gameplay experience. When you are met with a lack of response, you turn your head to see him with narrowed eyes. “What? No witty remark?” Once more, you’re met with silence. “Levi?”

He sucks in a sharp breath. “I- Fuck, you know?” This time, he’s met with silence. “First, I can’t get the concert tickets, then I can’t even get the new figure and now, I can’t even defeat this stupid game.” His cheeks fill with air, and he slowly lets the breath go past his lips. “And the concert was going to have passes to meet them behind the stage and the figure was signed and-” his character dies once more and the controller is tossed pitifully onto the pillow. He leans over the tub, his arms crossed under his chin, and his eyes on you. “My luck isn’t usually so bad, you know?”

You pat the floor beside you, your hand meeting the cold tile. “Come on, sit beside me,” you comment, shuffling over a few inches to give him even more space. With a huff, he rises out of the tub, small bits of crumbs falling onto the porcelain. He sits beside you, his arm brushing against yours but neither of you make an effort to move.

“I’m sitting, now what?” He asks, the television blurry as it replays his death with the words “Game Over” in bold letters.

“Well, Levi-” you hand him the bag, with fingers pinched over the handles- “since you’re having such rotten luck, why don’t you open the bag?”

He gives you a narrowed stare, slowly retrieving the bag from you and pulling out the pastel colored tissue paper. At the bottom of the bag sits a box, the words of a favorite anime of his stamped beside with the usual font. His heart skips a beat, as he slowly clasps his hand around the box, his fingers pushing against the plastic and he gaps, reality crashing onto him like a wave.

“It’s-” he doesn’t even finish saying the sentence, your nod is an answer to everything. “The figure that I wanted- I- How?” He asks, looking at the box, so worried that if he were to take his eyes away, the box would vanish.

“Ah, ah-” you wag your finger in the air- “that is a story for another time, my dear Leviathan.” You sound so smug and a smile is already evident in your words.

He bounces in his seat, his legs shaking rapidly, knees softly knocking against each other as he lets his excitement show. His hands flap eagerly, his smile wide and eyes closed. A sharp breath is sucked between his teeth, as he stares at you with bright eyes. You’re startled, your shoulders raising a few centimeters into the air with wide eyes as you stare at him. A nervous smile stretches across your face with him so close to you and looking at you with such eager eyes. If you were to be honest with yourself, you’re a bit flustered with how he looks at you. Your heart races and it beats against your chest, rattling at your ribs and echoing against your body. You nod rapidly, gulping what little moisture you have in your mouth when he grabs your hands tightly in him.

He shouts your name, enthusiasm laced into his word, his hands pulling yours close to his chest. “Ah! You’re the absolute best!” His smile is so wide that it’s almost comical, leaving you smiling both in response to and because of him. “I’m so glad that you’re here! Of course, you’d be my Henry!” He drops your hands and pulls you in for a hug, squeezing tightly around you, his head nuzzled into the curve of your neck. “I don’t know what I would do without you, but I’m just glad that you’re the one that’s with me!” He pulls away, his hands now holding onto your biceps. Deep breaths exhale through him, his chest rising and dipping rhythmically. He calls your name and it’s sweet like honey on his tongue. “You really are the best. I mean,” his tone becomes softer, his smile less eager and more true, “you do so much for me. I couldn't ever imagine my life without you. You mean so much to me.”

“Levi,” you mumble, and when his hands fall from you and return to hold the box, you pull the bag towards your face, hiding away from him. Your neck grows hot, scorching your skin and making you breathless. “I’m glad that you like it,” you manage to squeak out, the bag further pressed towards you.

A few seconds pass until he finally realizes why you’ve pulled the bag to your face. Leviathan stiffens, clearing his throat and turning away, his hand covering his lower half of the face. The figurine sits beside him with a delicate smile plastered on their face. With the air so light and heavy, he reached into the tub, eager to pull out the controller. With a meek cough, he fumbles with the controller, passing it over to you, with his eyes still glued on the figurine. “Would you like a turn? Maybe you’re better than me.” He can feel his chest tighten when his fingertips brush against yours and the hundredth time, the game tune plays in the room.

Satan:

Satan’s eyes narrow unconsciously as he reads over the same page for the tenth time. No matter what, he is unable to focus on the words, the letters and lines meshing into one that nothing fully registers past the first word of the page. If he were to be honest with himself, nothing has registered since the last few pages that he’s read. With a huff, he closes the book, a small gust of air blowing at the hair that rests over his forehead. The book rests on the table beside him, nudging against the lamp that makes the room flicker for a brief moment.

The room is filled with sound, the hum of the air conditioner unit, the distant sounds of footsteps and talk across the house, the demonic animals that roam around outside. He’s sure that if he were to focus, he’d even hear the scratching of a pen. Scratch that- he can now that he thought about it. All the sounds make his skin crawl, uncomfortable and itchy and as he drags his nails across his arm, he’s only offered a second of relief before the feeling returns. He leans against the chair, his neck arched over the back of it, as he lets his eyes flutter to a close, the bright light of the library barely shining through his closed eyelids. It’s not like to be so distracted- especially when it comes to a favorite pastime of his. And yet, his mind is distracted, wandering to images of you where you were talking to others that weren’t him. He isn’t the jealous type- at least, not when he compares himself to his brother, but it seems that you brought out something different for him.

His leg twitches and there’s a burning sensation on his arm that he chooses to ignore. It only intensifies when he hears footsteps approaching. The sensation spreads and becomes sharper, insatiable as it burrows itself in the demon. There is a presence standing beside him and he already knows that it’s you. He can tell by the steps, by the breathing, by your scent. He frowns at the thought. He doesn’t know if it’s romantic or not to know such small details about you.

Something clicks- your knee, perhaps- and your hand rests above his slender one, cupping and still, there are gaps where his skin is unfortunate enough to not to be touched by you. “Satan?” You call out to him in a quiet voice- not quite a whisper but not your usual volume either. “Are you asleep?”

“Is it you wondering or someone else?” He responds, slowly opening his eyes and turning his head, meeting the top of yours. “Is there something that you need?” He makes no effort to move, stuck in his position as he is content just sitting on a chair with your hand over his.

“It’s me,” you answer him, turning your head to meet his eyes. His lips slowly turn into a smile with his eyes slowly growing heavy. “You don’t normally sleep in the library without cause. You okay?” Your hand slips from his and his eyes widen his hand closing into a fist, already missing your touch. But, he is soon reconnected with your hand as it rests on his forehead. You soon look down at him with pursed lips. “I- uh, I can’t tell if you have a fever or not.”

He smiles at you and sits up straight, holding in a moan when his back is already sore, feeling the muscles whine as they had already grown taut. “No- No I just, I have quite a few things on my mind, is all.” He gingerly goes to grab your hand in his, uncaring that your eyes are on him and that the door is open for anyone to walk in and see Wrath so tender. “I’m sorry that I worried you.”

Your hand in his is turned, pulled slightly away but not enough to be taken away from his grasp. You walk from the side of the chair to stand in front of him, and when you meet his eyes, you nod down, gesturing to his lap. He smiles softly, nodding his head and leaning back, humming under his breath when you situate yourself on his lap, your head resting on his shoulder.

“You’re oddly touchy today,” he comments, his hand curved on your lap as the one he held is moved to behind his neck, your fingertips barely touching his collarbone. “Did I do something to deserve this?”

You give a half-hearted hum, and in the corner of his eye, he can tell that you have closed your eyes. “Think of it as a way to make you feel better.” You give him a play tap and he nods, his eyes staring straight ahead, lost against the colorful spines of the books. “So what does have you so worked up?”

Is now his chance? Is he now able to tell you the full extent of his feelings? He has you sitting on his lap, comforting him in a way that few people would ever dare to. There's feelings there, bubbling and forming on both ends and he knows that it’s both ends. It’s you that is on his mind. Filtering in when you shouldn’t, invading every space of his that he has until he’s completely overwhelmed. It’s a strong feeling, something that rivals his own wrath and for the first time, he welcomes it- he doesn’t put up a fight against it. He wants to feel whatever it is that you make him feel. He wants the intensity of it until he’s exhausted, until the wrath that has been boiling inside of him ever since he can remember, can finally evaporate, can finally be extinguished.

You call his name once more and he looks at you, his smile tight and eyes closed for a moment. “How do I tell you that I care for you in a way that says exactly what I’m trying to say without scaring you off?” His eyes close and his hand turns over on your thigh, palm open and empty. “How do I tell you that you’re the thing on my mind? That it’s you that is reducing me into a mess at the simple thought of you.” He turns his head enough, shrugging his shoulder to make sure that you’re looking back at him, your chest still and the hand that you had relaxed, is slowly crawling over to his open one. “The thought of you warps into this- this jealous demon that isn’t exactly something I’m fond of. I you to myself and yet, that I want you to myself and that the thought of you with anyone else, makes me more of wrath than I have ever been.” Your hand closes above his and he nods slowly, clasping his hand over yours. “It’s you, and it’ll always be you.”

With a jolt, his words finally register to him. He turns to face you, but you’re buried into his shoulder, your hand holding tightly onto his, as if he were your lifeline and the one over his shoulder is grasping at his sweater, bunching the knit fabric into a mess. Your heart beats over the sound of the room, the hum of the electricity erased, the steps and chatter muffled under you. He smiles softly, a slow chuckle taking over, until he’s laughing widely, his chest shaking and vibrating under you with every laugh. You moan his name and he can only say the first letters of an apology before his laughter takes over.

“Really, really- I’m not laughing at you,” he says through an attempt at laughter. “I just forgot how different you are. How you always seem to change depending on your mood.” He feels a harsh pat against him, your head shaking as you press further into him. “Please, never change,” he says with a laugh at the end, his head turning, his lips meeting against the side of yours in a quick press.

Asmodeus:

He’s flawless. He has to be. Or, maybe he’s just naturally like that. You are not the best when it comes to reading Asmodeus- too enthralled by him that you can’t seemingly tell when he’s told a joke or not that pertains to his beauty. Very little of it matters to you- you may appreciate that he is quite gorgeous, but you’ve also gotten to know the demon that embodies Lust.

Perhaps it’s because he knows who he is, that he is Lust, that he has to appear the best at all times. He can never make a mistake or it’ll be all that’s talked about- he knows as well as anyone else how easily a reputation can be damaged. However, when he looks at you, he doesn’t have to worry about that. He still wants to look his best for you, but he knows that if he were to slip, you wouldn’t see him any differently than how others see him.

You sleep beside him, nestled under his covers, the blanket pulled a little bit past your lips. Your hair is askew, small strands that stick up or curl around your face. Slowly, he takes a slender finger and softens the hair back to you, smiling when you try to lean into his touch. Your eyes flutter open, and you turn before he can see you, yawning and stretching your arms upwards, the cover crumpling above you. You lie still for a few more seconds and he sits upwards, daring to peek at your face. As if already knowing that he was going to watch you, you run a hand through your hair in an attempt to make yourself look more refined, to fix your appearance before him. You rub your eyes with a knuckle, turning to him and opening your mouth only to have a yawn cut through.

“Did you have a good nap?” Asmodeus asks, watching as you stretch your limbs, your muscles pulled taut as you let out a whine of satisfaction. You nod in response to him. “I’m glad. You know, I do have to tell you that you were right. I try not to ruin my sleep schedule but that nap felt simply divine. I think I feel more rested than I usually do.”

You smile at him, turning over to rest your head on his chest. His hand immediately comes to curve over the back of your head. “I like sleeping with you. You have such a soft bed and you always give such nice hugs.” He laughs in response, his hand lowering to hold near your shoulder. “It’s true. Devildom is still-” you take a brief pause- “different. And somehow, when I’m with you, all my worries are just-” you blow out a gentle puff of air- “gone.”

“I’m here for whenever you need me. All you have to do is just call,” he comments, his hand running past the sleeve of your shirt, his index and middle fingers touching against your warm skin. “I think it’s almost time for dinner. Would you like to accompany me? I’d be more than happy to take you to that little restaurant we found the other day.”

The edge of your sleeve is toyed with, pinched between the fingers and released. His hand returns to where it lay only to be disturbed when you rise, causing his hand to rest beside him. You give him a blinding smile that makes his heart flutter as he looks at you. “I’d be more than happy to, but I would like to get ready before we go out.” He raises a brow at you, tilting his head to encourage you to continue. “I want to look my best for you.” You lean forward and he smiles, fully ready for a kiss, only to have you pull away and kiss his shoulder. He frowns, his lips pushing towards a pout as he looks at you.

“Not even a kiss?” He asks, a tease of playfulness loosely attached to his words. “I have to say that I’m hurt.” He watches as you move, curling your legs underneath you as you watch him with a hint of smile on your face. “After all that I do for you, and yet, you have the gall to deny me a simple kiss?” he lets out a huff, not trying to hide the smile that graces his features and you. “You should be ashamed of yourself. There are demons who would kiss my steps to even look at me.”

“Asmo,” you call to him and he quiets, looking at you with expectant eyes. Despite him being the demon who can be considered one of the strongest- and is- you’re still the one who holds all the power in the relationship. He nods, encouraging you to continue. “Why do you want to go out with me?”

He can’t help the smile that forms, that twists the already playful one into something more bitter. It’s a question that he asked himself the first time he realized his feelings towards you. He could have it all and you’re just a human with minimal magical abilities. He’s met countless lifeforms who were and are beautiful, their beauty forever imprinted and never seeming to age. But, he still chooses you. And he’s content with that. He’s more than happy that he’s with you.

His thumb traces over your bottom lip, his eyes focused on your cupid’s bow. “You know, there are times when I look at you and I wonder if you see yourself the way that I see you.” He knows what to say, it all comes so natural to him when he compliments you. “Your scars and blemishes, the stretch marks around your tummy and how they pale and wrap around you. The little moles that you have are kissed along your sides and cheeks.” His thumb moves down and now his hand holds yours. “I have to be perfect- I have to be loved and admired, but then I see you and I think to myself how as long as I’m loved by you, that’s enough. You really have changed me in a way I never saw myself. Beauty means everything to me- or at least it did. But now I have you, and I have to admit, that I prefer you over anything else in the world.” He leans forward and lets his lips press against the corners of yours. “I want to go out with you, because to me, you’re the best that there will ever be.”

It all happens in a flash, seeing your face darken, feeling the hand slowly shake and then your face is hidden by the covers. He can hear you whine his name, and when his hand touches between your shoulder blades, his nimble fingers reaching above the collar of your shirt and touching your neck, he can feel how hot it is. He laughs as his arms reach around you and pull you close to him, giggling and accepting your odd human behavior.

Beelzebub:

Detention is quiet, save for the ticking of the clock, but other than that it’s silent. The room is occupied by a total of three people- you, Beelzebub, and the unfortunate professor that is stuck to watch over the two of you who scrolls through their D.D.D. while music plays loudly every now and then. You suspect they are on an app similar to one from the Human Realm, complete with word play and aesthetic from Devildom.

You turn over to Beelzebub, quirking your brows when you see him scribbling over a paper with a pen. You peer over, sitting straighter to get a closer look only to find him mindlessly doodling, similar drawings cover the paper in blue ink. As if feeling your stare, he turns to you with slightly wide eyes before relaxing them, sending you a smile and raising his paper, to show you his work. You return the smile, pleased at his cute antics and his boyish smile. You send him a thumbs up, before the professor coughs, catching the attention from the two of you.

They stand up, their tail curling around their leg and with a yawn, they expose their teeth. Their phone is stuffed into their pocket as they slowly walk to the front of the desk. “I’ll be back. I expect the two of you to still be here. You both have an hour left.” With that, they walk to the door, the heels of their shoes clicking, the door creaking before it finally closes leaving you and Beelzebub alone in a room.

Immediately, you turn to Beelzebub, your chair squeaking as you shift it hastily. “Beel,” you say excitedly, patting your hands on your thighs. He answers with a hum, tilting his head to the side to show that he is listening to you. “You have power over the professors, don't you?” You see the corner of his lip twitch upwards. “I mean you're the Avatar of Gluttony, can’t you just get us both out of here?”

The pen is set down and he leans back on his chair, his legs sliding underneath the desk until they are stretched to their full length. He turns to you, his smile lazy and eyes half-lidded. “I don’t feel like getting in trouble anymore than I already have.” His smile is crooked, teeth barely glimpsing from behind his lips.

“But we’re already in trouble,” you try to argue, pushing forward. “Please?” You lean forward, holding onto his bicep, with a pout on your lips. “If I use the pact powers, I’ll probably be the only one in trouble.”

He snickers, crossing his arms and lowering his head to side his smile. “We have an hour.” He looks up at you, a hand coming to cover yours. “Just sit and wait, okay? I’ll treat you out later.” You stick your tongue out at him and he laughs, pulling away from your touch and turning his own chair to face you, his hand resting over the desk, pulling on the tip of the pen until it is pulled underneath his hand. “What makes you want to go home so early anyways?”

“Why don’t you wanna go home?” You shoot back, your arm bent above the desk, with your chin resting on the palm of your hand. He shrugs in response, his attention back to the paper as he starts to bounce the pen between his index finger and thumb. “What are you drawing, anyways?” it doesn’t go unnoticed that he stiffens at your question, his lips pulling into a thin line as his leg starts to bounce. “It’s the same image, right? Like the same character that you’re drawing?” You lean closer, watching as he bounces the pen faster in his hand.

“It’s- It’s for art class,” he responds, clearing his throat. His hands grab at the paper and for a moment you think he’s about to crumble the paper, but instead he slips it between a notebook, careful to not let an edge slip out before it’s stuffed into his bag. “We have to draw-” he hesitates, squirming under your attention- “a thing.”

“I thought sports took care of your electives?” He sucks in a breath through his teeth, turning his attention to the board smeared with chalky remains. “Oh? Are you lying to me?” Your hand flutters to your heart, your voice faux hurt as your slump over in your seat. “Beelzebub, I’m actually hurt. Here I thought we were close and yet-”

“I’m drawing you,” he says, effectively making you stop in your theatrics. You turn to him, your mouth parted. “I wanted to draw you and give it to you as a gift but I can’t get your smile right.”

“Well that didn’t take much probing,” you mutter, scooting your chair closer to him, the toe of your shoe nudging against his backpack.

“I don’t like lying to you,” he states, his body becoming still and eyes returning to where you sit so close to him. Close enough where he can smell your cream. “I just didn’t want you to find out.”

There’s silence between the both of you, your lips pursed as you nod. “My smile?” He nods. “It should be simple, shouldn’t it?” Just a curve and some smaller curves for the lips and boom, you’re done.” You grab his backpack, holding it in your hands, the opening pointed towards him.

“No,” he says with a frown, pulling the same notebook out and slipping out the paper. Upon closer inspection, the images of what appears to be you are roughly scribbled. They aren’t the best but the thought of him drawing something for you and being nervous about you finding out makes the drawing much sweeter. “You have a nice smile. It’s like- like,” you look up at him to see his brows furrowed. “I don’t know how to explain it. Your smile is nice. It’s a lot more than nice. When you smile at me, it’s just nice. I like seeing you happy. You smiling at me makes me feel special and I don’t want to half-ass some drawing of you. I want to make it special because you’re special to me. Your smile makes me feel warm, like I’m being hugged and everytime you smile, it always reaches your eyes and when your eyes crinkle, it’s like you’re just looking at me and that makes me feel so-” he takes a deep sigh and releases it slowly- “so safe.” His words come to a soft close, his face a warm shade of red. He lets out a nervous chuckle. “That sounds dumb, doesn’t it?” When he looks at you, you’ve curled into a ball in your seat, your face buried into his backpack. He calls your name frantically, his hands on your shoulders, only to pull away when you let out a high-pitched whine. “Did I offend you?” His name is muffled between the fabric. “Yeah?”

“You’re really sweet,” you moan pitifully, clutching the bag tighter, hoping that it effectively hides your burning face. “I think I’ll actually die from what you just said.” Your heart beats in your chest, the sweet confession echoing in your ears and when you smile, you can only hide it, not wanting him to see the wide grin that is now plastered across your face. “I’ll take any drawing that you give me.” You hold your hand out, ready to receive the unfinished work, not yet lifting your head.

His hand covers your outstretched one. “Maybe if I can see your smile right now, I’d be able to get it right,” he teases slightly. Your only response is shaking your head, giggling through the fabric as you feebly try to shake his hand away. He laughs widely, holding your hand tighter as he urges for you to look upward at him.

Belphegor:

The room is quiet, no footsteps that echo from above, no noise that travels from the stairs into the room that was once Belphegor’s prison. Beside him, you lay curled on your side, resting against him, your hand playing with a drawstring of his hoodie, playing with the frayed ends at your fingertips.

“I thought being around you would make me sleepy,” you murmur, an ill-placed yawn ruining the validity of your statement.

Even where he lays, he knows that you’re pouting, with your brows knitted together. “It seems that I am already making you quite tired. You only lasted how long?” He’d make a show of checking his nonexistent watch, but he rather not, already too comfortable in his current position to risk moving. You blow a raspberry in response and he lets out a giggle, his hand that is placed underneath you is bent to hold a strand of your hair in between his fingers. “Come on, be nice now. I can also make you unbelievably tired but unable to sleep.”

“You’re so cruel Belphegor,” you say in a whisper, your hand finally still from playing with his drawstring. “You’d take away my sleep for a simple noise? How juvenile,” you tease, nuzzling further into his side, humming when his fingers part through your hair and scratch lightly at your scalp. “Here I am, whisked away from my homework to come and nap beside you. And what do I get in return? Teasing.” The last word slowly drifted off into a simple breath of air that was tickled against his side.

It really hadn’t taken you so long to fall under his own sleeping spell. A part of him is a bit bitter, wanting to spend more time with you where the both of you were conscious and could actually talk, while the other part of him, is simply glad that you’re resting beside him, that you’ve taken time out of your day to lay next to him.

“It’s not like you don’t deserve it,” he says through a smile, twisting your hair around his index. “I mean, out of all the reactions I can get, yours is possibly the best of them.”

“Thank you,” you say, sounding a bit more like a question. “You know, I’m glad that you invited me up here. I haven't been getting the best sleep as of late.”

“You can always come to me,” he’s quick to say, eager so evident in his voice that he’s drowning in it. He wants to be near you, he wants to be with you.

“I don't want to bother you,” you confess with a faint voice.

“You could never bother me.” It’s the truth. He’d crawl to you if it meant even a fraction of your attention would be given to him. He’d do what he could just to hear your voice. You’d never be a bother to him. You’d be his saving grace. It’s silent for a moment, one where he can hear the house come alive under him and feel your breath with even more vigor than before, feeling each and every pause, every gust of air a kiss against his skin that makes him yearn for more. He calls your name, and it’s thick on his tongue- foreign and light, and yet it sounds like he’s said it countless times before, as if he knew the name by heart. You hum in response and he takes a deep breath.

His finger twirls around a small piece of your hair, letting the hair curl around his finger before he releases it, only to do the same thing once more. “I’m always surprised that you let me get so close,” he says in a quiet voice, careful to not ruin the moment but a part of him knows that it might have been ruined already when it alludes to him. He can feel your eyes on him, watching him carefully as your lips part. “I know that I’m not exactly a knight in shining armor or anything and uh-” he lets the strad of your hair go, watching it bounce in freedom- “I just want you to know that I appreciate that you even let me touch you. I really like you, you know? I think you’re a much better person than I’ll ever be.” His lips stretch into a bittersweet smile that soon falls into a frown, twisting his features into something more somber. You say his name and it makes his breath hitch, a hiccup in his throat as his name fills the momentary silence. “I mean it. I think that’s why I- why you mean so much to me. I could never be like you. I can only admire you from afar and want you for myself.” He lets out a breathless puff of air that has humor etched into it. “I just wanted you to know that you mean a lot more to me than I’ll ever be able to put into words.”

With every continuation of his words, you felt your body respond to him. Your stomach twists with butterflies causing a storm inside of you, your chest tight and the sweet relief of air has escaped your lungs, and you’re hot, heat flush against your face and creeping from your chest and upward. You wonder if he could hear every change in your breathing, in your heart that beats, in just you.

He looks at you through half closed eyes and for once, you don’t think that it’s sleep that’s causing his soft smile and tender eyes. You stiffen, your muscles going rigid under his stare. The pillow is cool under your face as you stay hidden from him, gripping at the edges and turning away from his gaze, unable to keep as tight face as a smile creeps across your face.

He laughs as you lower your head, hiding your face from his after the tender words that were shared. “Come on, was it that easy to make you flustered?” He teases, the bed dipping as he moves. His hand tugs on the pillow that is held tightly in your grasp. “Oh come on, just look up,” he whines, weakly tugging at the pillow. “Seriously, you’re so dramatic and for no reason. It shouldn’t be news to you that I like you.” His smile is clear in his voice, light and full of kittenish behavior. “If you don’t pay attention to me, I’m going to continue, you know.” His grin widens when you finally peek at him, and he can’t help but laugh.

Diavolo:

There is chatter in the room, accompanied by the heels of shoes that click against the tiled floor. The room is lit in an orange glow that makes the atmosphere of the room seem almost dream-like. You tug wine glass, pulling it closer to you, careful to not let a drop spill over and stain the pristine white tablecloth. You glance around the room, watching people chat amongst themselves, their own eyes glued to their partners.

You look at the prince before you who takes a sip from his glass, his tongue peeking to wipe at the taste on his lips. “Diavolo?” The glass is set down and he looks at you with slightly widened eyes. “When I said I wanted to go out for dinner, I was fine with just some Akudonalds or ya know-” you glance once more around the room, your gaze focused on the silverware set carefully in front of you- “anything.

“This is anything,” he says, his smile cool and hands resting above the table. “We hardly go out and when we do, the others tend to accompany us. While I enjoy their company, I’d also like to just enjoy yours. So I thought, since this is a rare occasion, we’d make the best of it.” He leans close to you, and you know that there is no malice or hidden intention with him. He is honest, able to tell you what he wants without finding it necessary to hide himself. “If you are uncomfortable with such a restaurant, we can always go somewhere else, next time.”

“It’s not that, it’s just-” you clear your throat, leaning against the table, lowering your voice- “I’ve never been to such a high-end place. I don’t want you to overspend because of me. I’m fine just going somewhere low-key.”

He laughs, shaking his head and his fingers drum against the table. I’m a prince. There’s no such thing as overspending and even if there were, I don’t mind it if it’s you that I’m doting on.” You nod slowly, your fingers running at the edge of the fork handle. “Really, there is no need to worry. I’m just happy that you agreed to join me on this outing.”

You do your best to not shake your legs, mindful of the wine beside you. “‘M glad I was able to join you as well. I- I like spending time with you.” You smile sweetly at him, a hint of nerves tracing against your smile. “I just have to admit that I was taken aback when you invited me out. I know you mentioned how it’s always us with the others, but I don’t know-” you fingers find themselves tracing around the base of the glass- “I guess I always figured you liked me because I was able to get you out of work since you know, I am part of your work. I never would have assumed that you actually wanted to spend time with me.”

For a moment, it’s silent, a brief moment that couldn't even be considered silent, just a short pause but it's enough for him. “May I admit something to you?” Diavolo asks, his hands fiddling with the napkin beside himself. You nod, leaning forward, urging him to continue. “I was always fascinated with humans. I loved humans- they were these beings who had free will and they all lived different lives but in the end they shared the same fate.” He chuckles softly and his hand goes to the stem of the wine glass. “It’s the same for demons, of course. Any life can be taken and for the most part, they have free will, but I think I love humans. Or at least I thought I did.” He looks up at you, his smile faltering for a moment as he struggles to keep it up. “But I think rather than love, I hold admiration for their humanity. For their tenacity, and kindness; their love and warmth that they have with each other. And when I look at you-” his hand leaves the glass and is left open towards you- “I’m reminded of how beautiful humans can be.” His smile turns bitter for a moment, falling and he makes no attempt to keep up the facade. “I’m reminded just how fragile they are. I need you to know that I admire humanity, but I think I love you. I love how you do your best to help those around you, how you adapt to your environment, and just how easily you can make others fall for you.” He lets out a short laugh through his nose. “If I have to be honest, I think I’m also jealous of you. I wish I were the only one who could have the opportunity to fall for you.” His hand is still held out towards you, vacant without yours.

Throughout his monologue your body has been on fire, pooling in your stomach and against your back. You stare at his empty hand, trying to will yourself to hold it but the most that you can do is lay your head on the table, silverware clicking together and a dull thud heard. You want to let out a whine but you’re sure you’ve already called attention to yourself and- oh dear. What will people think of when they see Lord Diavolo with a human who has planted their face against a table. Your thoughts race, clouding your mind as the silence in the room is deafening, echoing in your ears as you rest with your face down.

“Is this a human custom?” Diavolo asks, his voice full of genuine wonderment. “Should I also be doing it?”

“Dia,” you mumble, your body slowly squeezing against itself in order to make yourself smaller. “You can’t confess so nonchalant,” you say in a hushed whisper, wanting to let out any type of noise that is slowly building up inside of you. “It’s- It’s too much for me,” you whine, slowly raising your head to peer at him.

“Well, I am a prince- a demon one at that. I suppose you can say that there are different customs for us as well.” His smile is jovial, and he reaches across the table, his hand open and this time you take it. Unable to look him in the eye, you resort to watching as his hand slowly threads to intertwine himself with you. “I must say, if that’s the response I were to get, I might as well continue it. I rather liked whatever it was that you did.” He’s so honest, looking at you with a wide grin that shows his pointed teeth and you can’t help but bury your face once more, grinning when you hear him let out a small laugh, his hand closing around yours.

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