#you’d think that would solve the confusion and everything after that would be obviously not aimed at them

[alenadragonne]

?

[stillfoodforguys]

Something had changed at my favourite restaurant lately. Even though it was still highly rated, my last couple of meals there were clearly much lower quality than before. This time I’d been so disappointed I decided to complain, speaking with the manager whose round gut suggested he was quite a fan of the food himself. He shot me an obviously fake smile while he talked to me, which made me think this wasn’t the first time dealing with an unhappy customer tonight.

“Would you like to take a look at where we prepare the food? I think that might solve our little issue here.” He led me past all the tables and through to the kitchen, which had been completely emptied out of any chefs or other staff. With everything abandoned like this, I was quite confused as to what he wanted to show me here. The manager walked so close to answer me that he had to grab hold of my shirt collar to stop me stumbling backwards when his fat belly bounced against me.

“Well sir, I always like a bit of privacy when I’m preparing MY meals in here…”

Suddenly, the manager’s mouth began to open wide. I watched in awe at the thick strands of drool stretching between his jaws while he slipped hands down the front of my body. The last noise I heard of the outside world was the clattering of buttons hitting the tiled ground as he tore my shirt open. After that, his gaping maw closed over my head and all I could hear were the hungry slurping noises of the manager starting to taste his next meal.

I felt some sticky liquid being poured over my body while he kept me still with one hand. He was somehow able to hold back my struggles while covering me in oil and sauce to give my skin more flavour, without making and mess whatsoever. This was definitely not the first time he’d dealt with an unhappy customer this way, which explained both how he’d kept this place open for so long and why he was such a sizeable man.

He savoured the delicious marinade he’d created while he swallowed me, replacing it with equally sticky saliva that helped his body squeeze me through his gullet. My head broke through to his stomach just as he was undoing my belt to finish undressing me. The hot vapours and bubbling sounds coming from the juices that sat in his gut were adding to my fear of being eaten. Eventually I was plunged inside as he continued consuming me, sucking my legs and feet down his throat slowly to enjoy the last bit of flavour I had to offer.

The manager sucked the remnants of sauce off his fingers after finishing, giving his squirming gut a gentle pat. “I can’t imagine why you’d complain about the food on offer here. I find all the unhappy guests like you to be absolutely delectable!” Just like many before me, I was slowly digested within the manager’s tank to keep up the restaurant’s ratings, which in turn would only end up attracting more prey for him to feast on.

[summercourtship]

Hi, could you write a nsfw oneshot or something for the Cenobite with a shy and modest fem survivor reader? Possibly include some fingering and using his hands. Thanks if you do!

I'm sorry this took so long, I obviously got a bit carried away. I have such a bad habit of needing SO MUCH exposition even for tiny one shots (or at least what are supposed to be tiny) but I’m not going to stop. I’m also not sure how well I fulfilled the idea of a “shy, modest” reader, but I think I managed to have elements of it without it becoming a stereotypical mess of stuttering and blushing.

summons [nsfw, 18+]

Pinhead (The Cenobite) x Reader | warnings: NSFW, reader could be interpreted as being a virgin but it’s not explicitly stated, I somehow made the Lament Configuration solving erotic (it’s what Clive Barker would want) | 3121 words

It was always unnerving to realize that a killer remembered you. To notice that shift in their expression as they placed your face to a memory, to an action that had made you stick out in their mind. Some killers seemed to remember everyone while others only recognized a select few. Some didn’t seem cognizant of doing either.

Luckily, you had always managed to fly under their radar. Even the killers that had memorized every survivor regarded you with an air of disinterest, preferring to go after the overtly obnoxious survivors (which was probably part of those survivors’ plans- Nea really hated fixing gens). Some could say that it was because you were boring, at least in the way of prey. You didn’t necessarily agree, but if killers thinking you were boring kept you alive you wouldn’t argue about it.

However.

There was one killer who seemed… overly interested in you because of this. Somehow your reserved nature was more intriguing to him than that of the unafraid or blatantly uncaring survivors. You didn’t understand it, but you also didn’t want to.

You didn’t want anything to do with it.

The Cenobite was an oddity among oddities- barely even touching the survivors and treating your suffering with a cold grace. In the few moments you’d been able to observe him, he seemed unaffected by anything, continuing his hunt seemingly without a care in the world.

When you were one of his designated playthings for a trial, you avoided the Box, even if it meant your continued survival. You couldn’t handle the thought of possibly summoning him, bringing the being you knew was somehow fascinated with you directly to your location.

You just did your damnedest to finish repairing gens and move on to the next trial with the usual indifferent killers, taking extra care to stealth when you knew he was coming. Because if he caught sight of you, he wouldn’t stop pursuing you throughout the trial, preferring to torment you than spread the pressure amongst your teammates.

But, despite your efforts, not every trial with him could work out this way, as was the case for the trial you found yourself in now. You had been just barely surviving through your stealth tactics when it seemed that the survivors were rapidly downed, one quickly falling after the other.

You rushed to pull them off hooks or patch them up enough to stand, only briefly hesitating when you felt your own safety was in danger. You pushed it aside, putting your team’s survival over your own sense of sanity. They would eventually pay you back in kind, and the cycle would continue.

But it seemed that luck was not on your side.

One, two, three survivors were all hooked for the last time, their cut off screams piercing the night air.

And suddenly, you were the only one left.

Somewhere, both too close and impossibly far away, a bell tolls.

You’re frozen in place, too on edge to even contemplate searching for the Hatch. You’d been in similar situations before, but this time felt different- it was as if the air was electrified from your nervous anticipation.

And never before had you been left alone with him.

Before long, the consequence of your hesitation becomes clear- the chains that he summons from nothing have started seeking you out, the few that reach you embedding their hooks in your skin. You hiss, jerking back into life and unhooking yourself, trying to be as careful as possible to not rip your skin off.

It would not be the worst pain you have felt in this place.

You set off, struggling through the terrain of the Macmillan Estate until you reach one of the smattering of brick walls that litter the Entity’s realms. Here, at least you would have some protection from the chains, giving you time to figure out what you were going to do next.

Find Hatch or wait by the Exit Gate, hoping he closes the Hatch with enough time for you to slip out? You’re debating the two options in your head, knowing full well it’s not the best use of your time but feeling unable to make a decision and get your feet moving.

You’d just mentally circled back around to the option of booking it for Hatch that you realize you were being observed. And he wasn’t even hiding like some of the others would, no crouching behind the brick or staying by the tree line. He’s simply standing there, as if waiting for you to realize he was there.

You look up at him, wondering how you hadn’t noticed his presence before. He blocks the only other exit from your shelter that isn’t a window, something you note with a growing sense of dread. No prey likes feeling cornered.

But he hasn’t moved to attack, just standing and staring at you. You take a moment to observe him back, noting the impassive expression on his face. He doesn’t move, even once you’d been made aware of him. You narrow your eyes and glare at him, ignoring the thwacking of the chains hitting the ground and walls behind you, already tired of whatever game he is playing, not in the mood to be toyed with.

“What do you want?” You ask, willing your voice to stop wavering. For once, you wanted to seem like the brave, outgoing survivor, willing to stand up to the killer for nothing more than the satisfaction of having done so.

A beat of silence, and you almost think he won’t answer. But he does, and his response is more confusing than clarifying.

“You.”

“I- I don’t understand.”

More silence.

Then, a crackling draws your attention downwards, to the small, unassuming box that lay on the ground in the space between you. The very box you had done your best to avoid touching, even looking at. You wonder, briefly, if it had been there the entire time.

“Solve it.” His voice is commanding yet gentle, coaxing yet sinister. There’s power behind it, a power that isn’t being utilized at the moment.

“No.” It’s an easy answer for you. There are few things you are sure of in the Fog, but not touching anything that belongs to a killer is one of them.

“Aren’t you curious?”

That was not what you had been expecting him to say. Suddenly, you were no longer sure about the subject of your conversation. The Box still lay between you, ready for your willing hands to run along its smooth surface, finding the small grooves that would lead you to further unlocking its mystery. But while you had been focusing on the Box, his eyes had never left you.

Because he knew that ultimately, yes. You were curious, and always had been. About everything, but you’d always been too shy, too afraid of other’s thoughts about you to try anything even mildly risky. Better to stay on the safe side and hear about other’s exploits instead of experiencing your own.

“Yes.” It comes out as a whisper.

“Then…” With a long fingered hand, he gestures to the Box.

Your hands shook as you reached down to pick it up, finding its smooth surface both warm and cool at the same time, its weight heavier than you had anticipated.

You looked back up at the Cenobite, ignoring the faint tinkling of a music box’s tune that you could now hear coming from the Box.

“What do I do?”

You were sure it couldn’t be but so difficult- less intelligent survivors had completed its puzzle under significantly more stressing circumstances than you. But you couldn’t bring your mind to command your hands to begin, some invisible wire holding your muscles back from taking action.

Maybe it was because he was standing in front of you, watching you intently.

He moved closer and you barely resisted the urge to move backwards, your grip on the Box tightening as if afraid he would take it from you. He stopped just before you and reached out, not to take the Box but to guide your hands. But instead of placing his hands over yours as you had anticipated, they hovered barely a centimeter above your skin.

“There is a force in this realm that makes solving the Lament Configuration child’s play.”

You look up at him, wondering if he had just delivered a thinly veiled insult. If he, in saying that solving it should be easy, was implying that you were too unintelligent to figure it out. You open your mouth to begin defending yourself.

“I-“

“You’ve refused it,” He continues as if you’d never started speaking, “even when it is to your detriment. But the Configuration is meant for those who seek to heighten their senses, for sensations that the earthly world cannot provide. Opening it is not supposed to be easy.”

You look down at your hands, at his.

“For those who summon us must be sure that it is what they want, for once we are summoned we cannot leave without a charge. It cannot be helped.”

He places his hands over yours now, guiding them along the edges of the Box (the Configuration, you correct yourself). Your hands are seemingly electrified from where his skin meets yours, though a sizable portion of his hand is covered in leather.

“Here it seems that, although alone, I work under different rules. The Box was made simpler and perverted into a means to assist in feeding this Entity.”

With his guidance, you are able to find the minuscule lines in the surface of the box, pushing and shifting the pieces until they form a completely new shape. But before you are able to push the final piece into place, thus completing the puzzle, he releases his hands and steps back.

“There is no need to finish it.”

You blink, feeling like you’d just woken from a hazy waking dream.

“But why did I do it in the first place?”

“I won’t have to hunt you down the next time we find ourselves facing each other. It is very tiresome when you hide from me constantly.”

He turns around like he’s about to go, either to finally kill you or let you scamper off to find the Hatch, but you aren’t ready for him to leave yet.

“Is that it?” You blurt out and almost take it back when he turns his head, indicating that you have his attention once more. But you swallow your fear and continue on, holding your chin higher. “You just wanted me to solve this box? To what? Prove to myself that I can, so that you don’t have to do as much work the next time you’re going to kill me?”

He whirls around, but there is barely any change in his expression from before. He was near impossible to read, you were quickly learning.

“I don’t get it- if you’re summoned for those who want pleasure or pain or whatever, why are you so interested in me? I don’t want any of that.”

“You don’t want pleasure?”

Your face heats up, any bravery you had felt in delivering your speech gone. You look down at your hands, still holding the almost solved Lament Configuration.

“The rules of this place may be different, but I am still obliged to answer the summons.” His words, at first, make no sense.

And then you realize what he is implying, and your face must be on fire for how hot it feels. If he was summoned for those who want whatever version of pleasure or pain he provided, then you solving the Configuration meant that he could…

Ohhhkay.

You turn from him, fully intending to put the box down and sprint for the Hatch and think about this encounter later at the campfire, but the quiet, nagging voice in the back of your head stops you.

Aren’t you curious?

Before you can rationalize and deny the urge, you act on impulse for once and press the final piece into place on the Box, the tinkling music stopping abruptly.

While you’ve had your back turned, he must’ve crept up closer on you, because you suddenly feel his hand on your shoulder.

You gasp, both from surprise and the sensation of his touch once again on you. He slowly ran his hand down your body, from your shoulder down your arm, before making its way to your front. Your breathing was picking up, hitching in the back of your throat when his other hand snuck around and plucked the box from your grasp. It’s gone when you turn your head to look at it, and you’re too focused on his touch to really ponder what happened to it.

You reach out and press your own hand against the brick wall in front of you, using the rough texture to ground yourself in reality, as much as you could in the hellish purgatory that you were trapped in. But the reality of this moment was that he was touching you in such a simple way, barely vulgar at all, but you felt as if you were being lit on fire with the way his touch seared your skin, even over the layers of your clothes.

His fingers dance over the hem of your pants, toying with the button. You’d always liked that the Entity put you in pants most of the time, their practicality better for your environment than the potential fashion statements you could’ve been making in something else. But now you wish that the Entity had decided to put you in one of the nonsensical outfits the others occasionally donned, if just for the easy access a skirt provides.

Nonetheless, he deftly undid the button and continued his journey down your body, not bothering to even pull your pants down. He completely ignored your underwear, apparently not in the mood to tease you over the fabric. You weren’t complaining, wanting whatever he was going to give you as quickly as possible.

It was now that you fully realized how cold his hands were, which only made you more aware of every centimeter of your skin that he ran his fingers along. Down over your stomach, a feather light touch that was approaching where you needed it the most.

The Cenobite found his way in between your legs with little fanfare, finally exploring the part of your body that, unbeknownst to you, he had thought of whenever he saw you in a trial. He toyed briefly with just running his touch up and down your slit, causing you to shudder and drop your head. But before long, he ended up at that sensitive bundle of nerves, flicking it just to hear you moan. His finger circled around your clit, applying just enough pressure for it to register in your mind but not enough to really scratch the itch that had been building since he’d placed his hands over yours to solve the box.

He was silent behind you, but you didn’t think he wasn’t actively enjoying what he was doing to you, if the way his teasing touches would briefly speed up when you let the little sounds building up behind your lips escape was any indication. Or the way his breathing, though quiet and low, would hitch when you would whimper, groan, hiss.

He finally moved lower, teasing at your entrance. You whimper again, closing your eyes. But he didn’t do anything aside from dipping his fingers in, for barely a second, giving you just a taste of the pleasure you needed. He teased more than you would have expected, but you also wouldn’t have expected him to want to fuck you.

“Please,” your whisper is broken, your mind hazy and unable to compose a more elegant plea. You curse under your breath when he does it again, moving back up to your clit to circle it a couple more times.

“You can do better than that,” He says, and you, in your fuzzy mind, think you detect a hint of humor in his voice.

“Fuck- please.” You roll your hips, as if to entice him to finally get to it. But he holds fast, your (pathetic) attempt to seduce him into giving in to your whims failing. He pauses in his movements.

“Fine! Please, please, please, please fuck me, put your fingers in me, I don’t care just please make me cum!”

You wonder, briefly, in the back of your mind, if the Entity is watching.

Two of his fingers finally slip into you, and you barely hold back a curse, forgetting whatever inane thought you had before. All you could focus on was the fact that he was finally giving you what you wanted, that he was finally done teasing.

He thrusts his fingers in and out of your pussy, dragging them along your walls and hitting every sensitive spot that you didn’t even realize existed within you.

“For such a shy woman, you make delightful sounds,” He mutters, almost too quiet for you to hear over the heartbeat pounding in your ears. Whether it’s yours or his, you cannot tell.

Quickly, much too quickly, you feel your climax approaching, and any sense of the amount of time you’ve spent at his mercy is lost to you. All you know is that he is touching you in a way that makes you feel like no one has ever made you feel and that you want to reach your peak now.

As it builds, you release a litany of pleas, begging with broken words and fragmented sentences.

You finally finish with a sharp, drawn out and shuddering gasp, his fingers curling into the spot that makes your toes curl, sharply punctuating every ripple of pleasure that your body rides.

And then, just as quickly as it started, it is over.

Taking a moment to catch your breath, you turn to face the Cenobite, who looks as unaffected as he had before. He examines his glistening fingers not even looking at you when he tells you to find the Hatch. If you’re stung by his sudden disinterest in you, you don’t show it, opting to add it to the growing mental list of things to think about later.

On shaky legs, you comply with his demand, stealing one last glance back at him as you leave him. You had no idea if this would be a one off occurrence, or if he would regularly find his own way to answer your summons, if he would make good on his statement that he is summoned for those who wish for pleasure and pain.

The only way to find out would be to summon him.

___

ao3 link

[fear-of-flyers]

Forever With You

Mat Barzal x gn!reader

Word Count: 882

Warnings: Mat cries (but like happy tears).

Mat knew he wanted to propose to you. He had always kind of wanted to propose to someone on the ice before a game. He knew it wasn’t for everyone and obviously wouldn’t do it if it was something they weren’t comfortable with. Early in your relationship he had expressed this after a night out after a big win. You had laughed along but knew that the two of you weren’t ready for that step and that you didn’t want something so big as a surprise.

It was now 4 years later. Mat was thriving in the NHL and the two of you were happier than ever and ready for the next step of marriage. Mat hadn’t thought about proposing on the ice more than passively and was looking forward to whatever did happen but you hadn’t forgotten. The only issue you had with surprise proposals is if you were to be surprised, but if you proposed to Mat it would solve the problem. With that you started working on a plan. You coordinated with Anders, Beau, the training/coaching/media staff and the rest of the team to make sure everything was perfect.

Finally the night was there. It was a home game against the Avs, a happy coincidence because it meant that Tyson could be there, and Mat was under the impression that he would be doing a special puck drop. The carpet was rolled out and Mat skated over, meeting Gabe Landeskog in the center, still a bit confused about what the whole thing was. Gabe knew what was happening and if Mat had looked around he would’ve seen his teammates (and Tyson) bouncing around excitedly.

Then, after what seemed like forever for you the announcer started talking.

“Today’s ceremonial puck drop honors a player on this ice right now.”

That confused Mat even more, he wasn’t aware of any recent milestones reached that hadn’t already been celebrated. He looked around for an answer but couldn’t find one, turning back around when the announcement started again.

“The player in question is number 13 for your New York Islanders, Mathew Barzal and now, to drop the puck, we invite his partner Y/n to come forward.”

Mat’s jaw dropped, he was confused, you were walking out and no one could answer anything. He turns his questioning gaze towards you and you shrug, a smile evident on your face. There is a mic attached to your collar, wired to UBS’s speaker system, but it doesn’t pick up the “Good luck” Gabe whispers your way as you reach the end of the carpet. You smile towards Gabe, mouthing a ‘thank you’ before hugging Mat. “What’s happening?” he whispers into your shoulder. “You’ll see” You respond before pulling back to start your speech.

“Mathew Barzal. You have made my life so much better than I ever imagined it being, you have been there for me since day one and have brought so many wonderful adventures to my life. I couldn’t see being here without you today. You have been the best friend and boyfriend that anyone could ask for and I couldn’t imagine spending my life with anyone else.”

At that you got down on one knee, pulling the ring out of your pocket as a collective gasp rose from the people around you.

“I didn’t forget 2 years ago when you said that you’d always dreamed of proposing at a game but here I am beating you to it. Mathew Michael Paul Barzal, will you marry me?”

When you finished Mat sunk to his knees pulling you towards him and into a kiss, eyes shining.

“Of course I’ll marry you Y/n” he says now crying freely. You smile up at him and pull the ring out of the box, slipping it onto his finger. You kiss again before the crowd around you pulls you from your bubble. Once you stand up again Mat’s teammates swarm the two of you, congratulations thrown from all directions.

Finally the commotion calmed down and you hugged Beau and Anders, thanking them for their help. “You guys KNEW???” Mat yelled hearing your thanks. They nodded, smiling and rolling their eyes at Mat’s shock. “Yeah we knew,” Anders said, “I think most of the team did.” Mat looks around, shocked they all kept the secret before turning his attention back to you unable to believe how lucky he is.

Then it finally comes time for the game to actually start. You wish the boys luck and although the mic had been turned off once Mat said yes, you finally handed it to one of the staff escorting you. With that done you made your way up to the suite that held your parents and sibling(s) as well as Mat’s family. On the way you stop in to say hi to the other partners, giving more hugs than you could imagine, immensely grateful for the family you had made through the team.

The game, of course, was amazing. The Isles won 6-2, Mat getting a hattrick, pointing up to you after each goal. Everyone got a laugh out of his on-ice reaction to your families being there and after you all went out for dinner to celebrate. All in all, Mat couldn’t believe how lucky he was.

Bonus Little Edit

yourusername

Liked by titobeauvi91, mattymarts17 and 23,472 others

yourusername literally the only pic i have from tonight, here’s to forever with you love ❤️

tagged @barzal97

view all 672 comments

josty17 ayyyy congrats you two!

islesfan23 omg!!! you are so cute!

barzal97 couldn’t be happier. ❤️

—

barzal97

Liked by ny_islanders, pagertrain and 64,291 others

barzal97 you beat me to the proposal but i think i win in the end because i get life with you. @yourusername

view all 1,203 comments

ny_islanders and we got to watch it live! congrats!

yourusername let’s call it a tie <3

titobeauvi91 ew that caption mat (jkjk 😂 congrats)

[glaucuspacificus]

"I find it so funny when fics, analyses, etc, make it seem impossible to do anything with Azula except lock her up in a prison/asylum post canon." Because, in addition to those who think Azula does evil due to nature, those works recognize that getting Azula onto the Gaang's side would take time, not to mention risk tolerance, they don't have since they are trying to rebuild the world. Hence, they lock up Azula to ensure that Zuko's throne is secure and to discredit Azula politically.

I see your point, anon, but I disagree.

I think Azula would be one of their first priorities. She is still the crown princess: the heir to an unstable throne with a Firelord who has just deposed his father. You mention that they need to make sure that Zuko’s throne is secure. For that, you need an heir. There is literally no-one else since Iroh decided he didn't want to be Firelord.

Also, the Fire Nation isn’t going to magically reject the war. They’ve been brainwashed by propaganda for generations and the war has been present in their lives since they were born. The people are going to angry, confused and worried. These emotions felt collectively by a nation have ever been good for a stable government.

They’ve been told by the last Firelord that the current Firelord is a traitor to his nation and the fact that before this, Zuko was away at sea for 3 years because he was banished doesn't help things. Zuko was crown prince for all of ~3 years before he was banished and then reinstated for like a month. They don't even know him. And then he goes and betrays his own father to make a grab for power.

If you were in that position, you’d be very resistant to this new usurper. Now, if you were already predisposed to not being fond of him, then heard that he had locked up his defeated little sister, national hero of the Fire Nation, who also happens to be 14 years old, in a prison or asylum, you might get even more resistant to him, maybe even pretty angry. It could be the catalyst for a lot of built-up hatred. Add this to the inevitable economic turmoil that will come to the Nation after the war, and you’ve got the recipe for revolution.

However, if a Fire Nation hero, a trusted figure to many people, was persuaded that the new regime under Firelord Zuko was better for the nation and for the world, then that might be pretty appeasing; especially if she was integrated into the new government without any trouble. Of course, this wouldn't solve everything and there would definitley be rumours flitting about that Azula had been coerced or was also a traitor, but having her active and involved would be very comforting for a lot of people. Speeches about demilitarisation, economic recovery and just simply how the Fire Nation is going to get through this will go down a lot better from the mouth of the ultimate Fire Nation loyalist rather than the 16 year old pretender whose loyalty has always seemed fickle and is one of the main reasons for this mess in the first place.

Instead of direcrediting Azula politically, it would be a lot easier and much more effective to present the evidence and let her brain work out the rest - she is logical to a fault and it is obviously logical for the war to end hence, Azula starts to align herself with the gaang.

[undertaker1827]

Hi dearie I'm back again. First I hope you are doing well, second can you do Sebastian, Claude, Grell (I honestly love her hair), and Undertaker with a s/o who can only see souls? Like they can't see anything else and it's through seeing souls they can tell if someone is a demon angel human reaper etc. and how they know who is talking. Sorry if it's confusing

I am thank you, hope you are too! And yes of course, it’s not confusing at all. Enjoy!

Masterlist

-

Sebastian

Sebastian is very much intrigued by this

As someone who can almost always tell whether a person is human, demon or otherwise because he’s a demon, the fact that you are a human yet can somehow only see souls is incredibly interesting to him

He might ask you every so often to describe the soul of a random person you see while you’re walking together, difficult though it is to explain, purely to see if you description matches up to what he sees

His interest simply grows when you describe a woman’s soul as soft and warm, like a glowing lamplight or a gentle voice

Those were perhaps the best words he’d ever heard be used to describe a human soul, and they were exactly the ones he would have chosen for this woman

He then asks about himself

Obviously you know he is a demon and he’s seen plenty enough of them to know what they are like on a spiritual level - they don’t have souls, per se, but what you’re seeing is the closest thing a demon can manage, perhaps the gaping hole where a soul used to be millennia ago

You describe him as dark and cold, the dangerous, spine chilling kind that makes bile rise in the back of your throat before you’ve even realised you’re not alone

The demon can’t help but smile though, because you’re at great pains to impress upon him that although this is what you see, the way he is with you couldn’t possibly be any more different and that this is in no way a reflection of your thoughts on him, of how you see him

He reassures you that he understands and that again, this is exactly what he sees in other demons

He still can’t quite work out just how you ended up with this ability as opposed to ‘sight’ in the traditional sense, but that simply adds another layer of mystery to the whole affair and he can’t help but want to explore it more

Claude

Claude can see souls in the same way as Sebastian can and it’s rare to say the least that you have the same gift

It’s definitely a mystery that he might like to solve, but Claude is a bit less intrigued than the other demon

He does ask you to describe his soul, or what was left of it, to check that you were actually seeing the same things, but beyond that, it’s just one of many different types of sight to him

Something that really caught his attention was when it turned out you could see on duty reapers, even though you weren’t going to die

You were walking together and you grabbed the demon’s arm, eyes locked on a man wearing a smart black suit who was standing on the roof of an apartment complex, a small black book in hand

Claude watched you attentively to see what you would make of him

“He doesn’t have a human soul,” you started, “but it’s not dark and twisted in the way that yours is.” Claude hummed in response and murmured

“Go on,,”

“He just seems ... neutral. No agenda or anything, impartial.” You turned back to Claude and smiled when you found him nodding

He explained that you had encountered a reaper, and as you said they are entirely impartial to everything, simply doing their job

He also told you that you could likely see them for the same reason as you could see souls, although he was still uncertain as to what that reason was

You have seen a few reapers while walking together, most of whom ignored you and went about their days

The occasional one however, would turn to look at you both as you went past, a momentary bit of interest in their eyes before they came back to themselves and buried their noses in their little books - To Die lists, apparently - and acted as if nothing had happened

Claude told you it was because they were more focused on finishing their work and clocking off on time than investigating the sight that a demon and a human who could see souls must make

Grell

Grell is one of the few reapers who would rather do anything else before doing her job and going home, so when she first saw you - or, more accurately, - sensed you, she went to investigate immediately

She just couldn’t resist

You were very definitely human, but there was something off about, something with a supernatural air, so she had to go and find out more

She doubted Will would appreciate it, but that was decidedly besides the point

She aimed to keep her distance for a few moments just to observe you from afar, but you tacked onto her presence almost immediately

Impressive really, especially given that humans weren’t supposed to be able to see on duty reapers

From the look on your face, you knew she wasn’t human, so she didn’t bother to cloak her scythe or hide the fact that she just jumped from the roof of a four storey building and landed on her feet

You were quite focused on her crimson blade, somewhat unsurprisingly, though as she got closer, she realised you weren’t actually looking at it

You could sense it, just as you sensed her, but you couldn’t actually see it, and Grell was no stranger to how someone looked when they couldn’t see their hand a few inches from their face

She ended up staying there and talking to you for quite a long time, you being surprised that she understood your strange situation so quickly

She explained to you then that all reapers were incredibly short sighted, and she recognised the lack of sight in you as well

Grell always made a point of coming to see you once she had finished working after that, or even during work for that matter, then one cup of coffee between you turned into a series and you were falling in love before you knew it

The reaper fell for you just as quickly, and you were made all the more interesting by an ability that she had never seen in a human before

Undertaker

Undertaker also knew you were different from the first time he saw you

His vision was frankly horrendous and he utterly refused to wear glasses so that nobody would see his eyes, so he knew exactly how you were navigating around because you were doing it the same way he did

He was walking down the cobbled side street away from his shop when he noticed you walking the other way

You found you couldn’t look away from him, his neutral version of a soul so different from a human’s, yet somehow tainted with something else

He was studying you in the same way as your steps gradually brought you closer together, your soul like any other human’s yet you were so very, very different

He stopped walking when you were almost eye to eye, you doing the same, which left you both standing and openly staring into each other’s souls

“Now this is interesting, don’t you think?” The mortician hummed, you nodding in wide eyed wonder

“I’ve never met someone like you before,” you told him, and he knew you weren’t talking about his somewhat unique appearance

“I don’t doubt it. Can I interest you in some tea? I don’t think it’s poison,” he hummed with a quirky grin

You were already laughing and you accepted his offer gladly - it was very cold out

The tea didn’t taste like any you’d ever had before - a home brew, evidently - but it was by far the best

Undertaker explained to you that he was a reaper and that was how he knew you were different

He smoothly deflected you when you asked why he was working as a mortician rather than reaping souls, directing the conversation to focus more on you, but you didn’t press the matter

You fully understood why he wouldn’t want to tell you, someone he had only just met something so personal

He did tell you eventually, late one night when you were curled up against his chest and you had been in a relationship for a long time

You kissed him after that, slow and gentle with one moment stretching into a thousand, from the pure joy that this open display of trust brought on

[nightwishesworld]

Jealousy

It was a quiet day at the Dimitrescu Castle. The girls were unusually calm going about their business in and out of the basement, keeping their messes down there for the most part. None of the staff was being chased down the corridors in fear of their life and even better; there were no crashing sounds of decorative pieces being broken. Only silence. You and Alcina settled in the library for the afternoon. It started off nice with the two of you lost in your own novels, but it wasn’t long until the vampire grew bored and wanted cuddles. You were more than happy to oblige. It was one of those days that you’d call perfect. Alcina lounged on the couch with her head resting on your lap. Her eyes are closed and all she can focus on is your rhythmic breathing and the feeling of your fingers gently massaging her scalp. A perfect lazy afternoon. You almost thought she had fallen asleep until suddenly her eyes were open, glowing their beautiful gold. Alcina raised her head and sat upright, eyes glued her eyed to the main doors.

"Someone coming, Darling?" You ask in a low voice, reaching blindly behind you for the weapon concealed under the cushions.

She nods. "Sounds like a woman running out of breath. Perhaps a maiden managed to escape the basement." She leaned toward you like she was ready to shield you from whoever was making their way down the corridor. You could hear the footsteps now, they were coming closer and closer to you. Alcina was right, it was definitely a woman, the footsteps were much too delicate to be a man. Said vampiress was practically on top of you now, her arm supporting her weight on the opposite side of you, just in case you needed to be protected.

Whoever it is was just outside the door. You both braced yourselves as the door now twisted. Just as Alcina was about to pounce on the intruder, you both recognized her as one of the maids. False alarm. It was only Mihaela, a very dear friend of yours from the below village. You grew up together and considered yourselves sisters. When her father passed away Alcina welcomed the girl into the castle with open arms. The girls had been introduced to Mihaela on more than one occasion and knew not to harm her. You'd like to think they consider her more or less a friend.

"What are you doing here, dear," Alcina immediately relaxes back onto the couch. "It's your day off, is it not?"

The girl nodded, physically unable to get any words out.

"Good Lord, Mihaela, did you run all the way up the mountain?"

She nodded again. Alcina stood to fetch her a tall glass of water. Mihaela eagerly accepted. "Y/n!" she rasped. "You'll never guess who's in the village right now asking about you."

You share a sideways glance with Alcina, waiting for the girl to continue. Who could possibly be asking about me?

"E/n, your ex!"

If you were drinking something you would have choked. That was a name you hadn't thought about in years. To say you were not expecting that would be the understatement of the century. You don't know what to say. What can you say? What could they possibly want with you after all these years? Money? A place to stay? Work?

Sweet spawn of Satan Aclina would kill them.

She's still staring at Mihaela with an expressionless look on her face.

"What?" You hope you simply heard her wrong.

Mihaela nods vigorously. "I know! I couldn't believe it either. There I was, helping my little brother open up shop for the day and I see them walk by. At first, I thought my mind was playing tricks on me, but the next thing I know they're inside the shop hugging me! I could barely get a word out I was so floored."

"I thought they left to tour Romania looking for their 'dream job?'"

"Didn't work out. I guess no one would keep her employment for long. They said they were too good for the jobs anyway, can you believe that?"

"Honestly? Yes. You remember how outlandish they were, guess they haven't changed too much."

Mihaela giggled. "It sure felt that way."

"So wait, how did my name get brought up?"

"They asked if you were still around- seemed pretty keen on seeing you again."

Alcina rolled her eyes. "Marvelous."

You take her gloved hand in yours and give it a reassuring squeeze. She eases up a little bit as you rub circles on top of her hand. "You said no, right?"

"Of course I did!"

"Then why do you look so nervous, Mihaela?" Alcina asked.

The girl stood like a statue, only moving to twiddle her thumbs. Silence fills the room as the matriarch waits patiently for the girl to speak. Her eyebrow arches as if she says "I'm waiting..."

Finally, Mihaela speaks. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding in.</p>

"As I was leaving I heard them asking others of your whereabouts. It's only a matter of time before they find out the truth."</p>

"Well that's just fantastic then, isn't it? Now we can't even go down to our own village without risking an encounter."</p>

Mihaela gave a sympathetic smile. "Don't worry, Lady Dimitrescu. They're not staying in our village, just passing through. I believe they said the village just east of us, on the other side of the forest."

Alcina hummed. "Best to stay away then, don't you agree, Love?"

You couldn't nod your head quick enough. "Of course. What do they want with me though? I haven't even thought about them in years."

Mihaela shrugged. "I guess they just wanna talk? Reconnect with all our old friends? I didn't ask; just said you weren't around anymore."

"Couldn't you have just told them I died or something? That would have solved everything! They wouldn't be going around using about me AND if they ask to visit my grave you just bring them to the coolest tree in the forest and say I'm buried under it. My body intertwined with its roots. You could've had so much fun with the dramatics!"

"Do you think they'd be stupid enough to come looking her y/n up here?" Alcina asks in an almost hopeful tone.

Mihaela rolls her eyes. "Well, I only came to warn you. You know how...persistent they can be. Now that I'm here, may I stay and pick up some work?"

"Of course you may, my dear. If it's the trek back down you want to avoid I can always call a carriage for you."

"That's very generous of you, my Lady, but really, I don't mind. I like to keep busy."

Alcina nodded, accepting the answer. "Very well, dear. My study could use another dusting once you've regained yourself."

As the doors close behind Mihaela, the matriarch relaxes and lies back down with her head on your lap."Well, that was interesting."

You immediately start running your fingers through her hair. "No kidding, What the hell do they want from me? I thought we agreed we'd never have to look at each other ever again, now they wanna talk?"

"I wouldn't know. You've never told me about this person."

"I was sparing you, trust me." Alcina still looked up at you, her eyes flurrying with emotion. "There isn't much to tell, Al. We were together a few years and couldn't make it work so we started hurting each other, sometimes just out of spite. Really, Al, it's nothing I ever felt compelled to bring up; especially to you." You can't hold back a giggle. "You know how jealous you can be."

"I do not get jealous."

"Al, not two weeks ago you almost slaughtered the village butcher cause you didn't like the way he looked at me."

She rolled her eyes. "That swine was looking you up and down like you were nothing more than a piece of meat."

A comfortable silence fills the library. You're both lost in your own worlds together. Alcina stares up blankly at you as you continue to read."It was a serious relationship then? If it lasted a few years then it must have been."

You try to hide behind your novel and Alcina tosses it to the ground. You can't look her in the eyes without blushing and feeling really uncomfortable. "It was-umm...we were...briefly engaged."

"What?!" Alcina bolts up from her spot. "You were engaged?!"

You nod curtly. "Briefly engaged, yes."

Alcina just stares at you, completely flabbergasted. "When were you planning on telling me that?"

You pulled a confused face. "Um never? Why would I ever bring that up? Under what pretense is that an ok thing to bring up?"

"I..." She sighs, "I don't know."

"I'm sorry, Alcina. I didn't think it was a big deal."

"I suppose it's not. You're here now and that's all that matters."

You crawl on her lap and give her a sweet kiss. "And I'm not going anywhere."

Later That Night

You were out on the balcony gazing up at the array of constellations, waiting for Alcina to join you when there was a knock at the bedroom doors. Strange, no one is around at this hour. From your vantage point, it sounded like one of the servants talking to Alcina. He handed her something through the crack of the open door before having the door slammed in his face. Alcina joined you out on the balcony and handed you a rather beaten-up-looking envelope. "This was left for you by the main gates. Can't imagine who it's from?"

"Fuck, already?"

Alcina hummed as she sipped her wine. "A letter from your ex-fiancee."

"Wanna read it together?"

Alcina shakes her head but it looks forced. "It's none of my business."

"I don't care Alcina, really. This is clearly bothering you and I want to know what's going on between them and me."

"Well, if you're sure then." She hands you a letter opener and curls up next to you. The action briefly reminds you of a puppy looking for attention.

You waste no time opening the envelope and pull out a short, sloppily written letter.

I hope this letter finds you well. Please, before you crumple this up and throw it away please just hear me out. I want to apologize for how I treated you when we were together. Obviously, we were both dealing with a lot back then because we were young and stupid, but I'd like to think I've changed a lot since then. Don't get me wrong, I still have my moments, I'm only human, But I really have changed. If you still hate me and never want to talk to me again I understand. I wanted to say I'm sorry and see if we could make an effort to at least stay friends. I'm not the wreckless teenager you used to know and I've always thought about reaching out to you.

These past years of backpacking have taught me a lot and helped me grow up. I had to learn how to fix my own problems and not lean on someone else's support. I had to learn how to live off the land and support myself through the good and bad times. I realize now that I wasn't able to take care of you because I was unable to properly take care of myself. I see that now. You were never far from my mind; I thought about you every day I was gone.

The blacksmith told me you're working at Dimitrescu Castle as a handmaiden? Never thought you of all people would ever accept that kind of job, but hey, I guess I'm not the only one that changed. I hear it's pretty tough up there...then again you're the toughest person I've ever met. If anyone can handle it it's you. How are they treating you up there?  What's it like living in such a massive castle? You know me, I would probably lose my way and get lost haha.

I really hope you decide to write back, but no pressure. I understand everything we went through was...a lot to deal with and you want your space. Just in case you want to respond, I'll leave my address enclosed. A nice elderly couple is letting me stay with them in exchange for work. How sweet is that? It's mostly just labor chores around the house that need to be done so it's no big deal.

Best regards,

E/N

You share a look with Alcina who only scowls at the piece of paper. "I don't like the sound of this."

You shake your head, genuinely lost for words."I don't even know what to say, honestly."

"What do you want to do?"

"I don't know."

Alcina sighs and sits you on her lap, straddling her thick thighs. "I know you're going to say forget about them because of me," she silences you with a single finger to your lips. "But it's ok. I know you love me and only me. You're allowed to have friends outside the castle, my love, and I have no right to deny you. Even if this particular friend was your ex-fiancee; I trust you completely."

Your heart was melting in your chest. Even though it looks like it took all her strength to say those words you know she means it. 'Thank you, Alcina. I know you don't like this, but I would at least like to hear what they have to say. Our relationship wasn't a happy one at the end and, well, I don't know, I guess I just want some closure. But I promise every letter I get we will read together."

"Oh you don't have to do that, love, I trust you."

"I know and I appreciate that very much. But I want you to know exactly what's being said between the two of us, even if it's just to ease your mind about them."

Alcina smiles down at you and strokes your lips. "What have I done to deserve you?"

"Whatever it was, you definitely deserve me."

Three months and several letter exchanges later

“Why do we entertain this, again?”

You glanced up after opening the latest letter received. “Because, my love, all they’re looking for is a friend. It’s been a long time since they left the village and a lot has changed, the people included. Trust me, as soon as they make more friends down there they will get bored of me.”

Alcina only groaned in response as she laid herself down on the bed, rather dramatically, so her head was in your lap. “Doesn’t sound that way to me. Last week they said, and I quote, it means the world to me that we’re talking again. I can’t believe after all this time and everything we’ve been through you’re still willing to talk to me.” She sighed. “I’m still surprised myself.”

You lean down and kiss her lips chastely. She pulls you back onto her and bites your lower lip, causing you to gasp. She takes this opportunity to deepened the kiss, caressing your tongue with her own.

You only pull away when the need for oxygen is desperate. “You’re needy when you’re jealous.”

She scrunched her face in disgust. “I told you I am not jealous. There’s nothing to be jealous of. They are nothing.”

“It’s ok babe, I think it’s cute.” You kiss her sweetly. “Shows me how much you love me.”

A light blush powdered Alcina's cheeks. “Well, I do love you.”

“I love you too.”

She closes her eyes and focuses on the feeling of your fingers running through her hair. “So, what are they saying this time?”

“Nothing interesting. They’re still looking for work, I think they might still be holding out on us hiring them. Even though I made it very clear there’s no place for them here.”

“Absolutely not,” Alcina growled. “It’s bad enough I have to listen to you read these damned letters why would I want to hire them? Short-staffed or not that...person is not allowed in my home.”

“I know Darling, I made it very clear. You know that.”

“I know you did. You were sweet enough to let me read it.”

You chuckle as you continue reading. “I let you read all the letters, Alcina. You’re my partner and I love you. You have a right to know what’s going on.”

She moved to sit up and kissed the top of your head. “I appreciate that.”

She made her way over to the vanity and starts taking off her makeup. You paid her little attention as you continued glazing over the letter. This has become your weekly routine; open the letter, read it first by yourself, and then give it to Alcina to read over so she can make fun of the person for the rest of the night. You think it’s her way of letting all her jealous energy out. She knows you and this particular ex were extremely close. It was the deepest relationship you had been in previous to Alcina. But it was also the most toxic relationship you had ever been in.

Every week you got the letter you would assure her there was no reason to get jealous or upset as she does. Not that you minded the extra cuddles and kisses that came along with jealous-clingy Alcina. It was cute. The way she gets close and cuddly with you like an attention-starved kitten.

You were about halfway through the letter when you realized the handwriting changed ever so slightly. It appeared sloppier than the previous paragraphs, almost as if the writer’s hand was shaking as they wrote. Then as you continued down the page the reason became apparent.

“....what are the odds us giving our relationship a second chance? I’ve changed a lot over the years and now that I’m back...maybe things would be different? I never lost feelings for you. This has been on my mind for a while now, but I’ve been too scared to bring it up until today.”

Oh god....

You turn back to Alcina who thankfully hasn’t noticed your sudden nervous energy. You take a few deep breaths, trying to calm your nerves, before continuing.

“My feelings never really went away, only transferred from person to person cause I wanted them to be you. But they weren’t and never can be. You have always been so special to me- you should know that by now. It’s nice having you here again. You were a major part of my life growing up. I wish I could change not having you around these past years cause you were my everything.”

You raise a hand to cover your mouth and bit down on one of your fingers.

As you look up to check on her your heart sinks as you’re met with her eyes burning into you through the reflection of the mirror. She knows something’s wrong. Of course, she knows- she always knows! It’s like she can smell your nervousness from across the room. She doesn’t break eye contact even when removing her lipstick.

You try your hardest to pretend she isn’t staring and continue on reading.

“If there’s a way to make your feelings for me come back you better believe I’ll find it. But I know I can’t force you to feel something you don’t anymore. It’s just always been so easy to connect with you. That’s why I want to try and rekindle our flame. You’re such a loving, generous, kind-hearted person to be around. I always admired you for that. To this day I’ve never been able to connect with someone as deeply as I did you.”

“For fuck sake...” you thought. “It can’t get any worse than this right? It can’t possibly get any worse.”

You don’t have to look up to know that Alcina’s stare has intensified. Her eyes are practically burning holes in the back of your head. You know the game she’s playing too...she’s gonna wait until she knows you’re finished reading and come over to read it for herself and let the rages of hell consume her. After all, you’ve seen how out of control her temper can become, this year alone she’s gone through three replicas of her vanity. And that was only because Mother Miranda called.

“....I’m glad to hear you’re in good health. Your health has always been something I worry tirelessly about, even when we weren’t on good terms.”

You sigh in relief. “Ok, that’s not so bad. I guess I can forgive that one. My health has always been up and down, even Alcina worries like a dog over me some days.”

“When I leave again maybe you can come with me? We always did talk about living in the country. We can have our own land for whatever animals you want and a barn to match.”

You actually yelp out of surprise. “Holy shit that’s worse...that’s so much worse. Alcina is going to be livid when she sees this.”

Your attempt to steady your breathing fails miserably. The most you can hope for now is to not make eye contact- then she sees how much of a nervous wreck you are. “Don’t look up, don’t look up, don’t look up, don’t look- FUCK!”

In an instant, Alcina’s up and making her way to stand behind you, won’t glass in hand. She’s already glaring down at the piece of paper like it personally cussed her out. “What did that lowlife say this time?”

“Alcina, I don’t think you should-“ it’s too late. She’s already snatched it out of your hands.

You start inching away as you watch her facial expressions morph from displeased to disgust, to seething as her eyes scan the bottom of the page. Her breathing is heavy, her nostrils are flaring, and her eyes glowing a bright gold as she recites the final paragraph out loud.

“I’m always going to be here for you from now on. I made the mistake of missing all those years with you. I ain’t missing no more.

Goodnight, MY LOVE?!”

You bring a hand up to hook around her arm. “Calm down, Alci.”

She doesn’t respond. Everything is quiet for what felt like hours when in reality it was only about a minute. You watched her eyes scan over the page over and over again until they fall back on you.

You have never really been scared of the vampiress, she never gave you a reason to be. But those eyes hold no mercy. You want to run away and cower somewhere she’ll never find you, the abandoned passages maybe, but fear has you frozen in place.

Her smile doesn’t reach her eyes, it’s one of those psychopathic smiles someone sees right before they die. She notices your cautiousness and is quick to retract her claws and thread her fingers through your hair. “If you’ll excuse me, darling. There’s some business I must attend to in the basement.”

“Alci-“

“I’ll be back later tonight, porumbel mic. Don’t wait up.”

Hours passed before you abandoned the idea of sleeping and decided to stroll around the castle. It was usually only done with Alcina when one of you had trouble falling asleep, but since she was still nowhere to be found you figured it couldn't hurt to try by yourself. Bloodcurdling screams from the basement were particularly loud tonight. The girls must have found themselves new toys to play with. No matter which part of the castle you were in you could hear the muffled cries of the damned. You wrote it off as Daniela and Cassandra being particularly intense. Eventually, you ran into Bela while in the west wing. She flashed you a broad smile.

"A little late for you, isn't it y/n?"

"Couldn't sleep. Your sisters are having a lot of fun tonight, huh?"

The eldest vampire sibling shot you a confused look. "What are you talking about?"

"All the screaming in the basement, that's them, right?"

She started laughing. "Oh no, y/n, that's all Mother's doing. She's pretty pissed about something; I haven't seen her this mad in decades! And from the looks of it, I bet you know why."

You rubbed the back of your neck and look around the corridor, really anywhere other than Bela's eyes. "Well..."

"Ooh! What is it? What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything, not really. It's just, someone I used to be in a relationship with has been sending me letters and Alci thought it would be alright if I responded. Just to make sure they knew I was happy and safe and all that kind of stuff. Then after I'm done reading what they sent me I give the letter to your mother to let her read. So she knows there's nothing going on between the two of us, ya know?"

Bela nods, stars shining bright in her eyes. "OOh what did the letter say?"

"They um, confessed they still had feelings for me. And they were thinking about running away with me to the countryside."

Bela looked like she was going to explode from all this excitement. You knew she was only pretending to not know about all the other letters. Bela was the gossip seeker of the family. Nothing made the girl happier than to have something to blackmail you with, or anyone really. There was no escaping her wrath, not even Alcina could.

"Mother must have been seething!"

"Yeah," you felt rather guilty about it. "I guess she's taking her anger out on the basement dwellers."

Bela giggled. "Better them than us, right?"

"No question about it."

It's after three in the morning when Alcina finally crawls into bed next to you. She's already stripped herself naked and there's a thin layer of sweat covering her body. She wraps herself around your back and you try to be as still as possible, giving the illusion you're fast asleep. You should have known better. This is Alcina Dimitrescu we're talking about here. The woman can probably smell your anxiety from the other side of the castle.

"I told you not to wait up."

You sigh and roll over on your back. "I slept a few hours, then woke up and couldn't fall back. Even walking around the castle didn't help."

The vampire shifted her body so she was almost laying on top of you; her arm is draped over your middle, a leg nudging between yours, and she's nestling her face in the crook of your neck.

"Do you feel any better?"

Even in the low light of the moon, you can see her looking at you. "A little bit."

An uncomfortable silence filled the bedroom. Neither of you knew what to say if there was anything to be said. You decide to break the silence.

"I'm sorry, Alcina. You were right from the beginning. I shouldn't have engaged with them," your eyes widen at your own words. "Sorry, not the word I should have used."

She chuckles into your neck before giving your pulse point a kiss. "It's not your fault, porumbel mic. My anger is not directed at you."

"Still, I should have known this would happen. I'm not responding, of course."

She starts kissing and licking down your neck. "Good. Alcina Dimitrescu does not share her porumbel mic with anyone."

Soft quiet moans began escaping your mouth, which encouraged Alcina even more. You shared a brief moment of unspoken words before joining your mouths to one another. You move to straddle her and press your body into her with everything you've got. For the rest of the night, you proceed to remind Alcina just how much you love her.

A week later in the village

It was a quaint little village, full of blossoming flowers in the spring and cheerful wildlife wandering around the outskirts. The people of the village fended for each other all year round. It was a very tight-knit place to live. Chatter fills the air along with the tantalizing aromas from various shops as the people go about their daily routines. You and Bela had accompanied Alcina while running some errands. Nothing important, really, just picking up various perfumes and lotions the matriarch was running low on. Bela made herself comfortable sitting by the fountain in the village square, growing rather impatient and bored.

You were about to suggest going in the shop with Alcina to help move things along quicker until you heard it. That single sound made your heart stop beating and drop to the pit of your stomach.

"Y/n!" They called from a distance. You groaned when you saw their silhouette approaching, and nearly pulled your own hair out when you saw how happy they were to see you. Bela, however, looked very pleased with the change of atmosphere. "OOH y/n is that them? The one from the letters that wants to run away with you?"

You nod.

As they get closer Bela pretends to gag. "Ew, you were seriously going to marry that?"

You elbow her in the side, hoping they didn't hear that. "I was young ok. Please just go get your mother and tell her to hurry up."

The girl flashed you an evil smile. "With pleasure."

She got away just in time. They greeted you not with a handshake, or a playful punch to the shoulder, but with a bone-crushing hug that lasted a little too long to be comfortable. "How's it going y/n? Gosh, I never thought I would be lucky enough to run into you here!" They pulled away and looked you over a few times. You had the inclination to cover yourself even though you were completely clothed. "You look incredible."

"Thanks, it's uh, nice to see you too."

"So what are you doing here little miss handmaiden? Running some errands for your Lady or is it your day off or something? Do handmaidens even do stuff like that? I don't know. Anyways, if you aren't doing anything right now, you wanna grab something to eat?"

Fuck no

Before you could think of an excuse Bela was at your side again, smiling even more wickedly than before. "Mother is making her final purchase and then we're returning home. We best meet her at the carriage." Her eyes fixate on the person standing opposite of her like a wolf to its prey. "You must be e/n. I've read so much about you!"

You elbow her in the stomach. "Bela!"

Meanwhile, e/n had never looked so embarrassed. "Oh, so you let them read all our-"

The gods were smiling upon you today. Being saved from awkward conversations left and right.

"Come along, my darlings. Time to go home," Alcina calls behind you. Your heart starts racing in your chest, whether it was from anxiety or anticipation you had no idea. As soon as Alcina locked eyes with your ex her entire face shifted. She went from calm and happy Mother Alcina to cold-hearted Lady Dimitrescu almost instantaneously. Your ex was in awe of the tall woman before them. They heard rumors about the Lady of course but always believed them to be just that; rumors and wives' tales.

Bela ran to her mother's side. "Mother, look, it's e/n from the letters."

You pinched the bridge of your nose and could swear you feel a migraine coming on.

Alcina looked them over and nodded. Her expression was neutral, but you knew her eyes held no mercy. "So it seems."

Your ex bowed in respect to Lady Dimitrescu ad greeted her politely. It wasn't bad actually, too bad they're already on Alcina's blacklist. "It's an honor to meet you, Lady Dimitrescu."

She smiles, "I know it is, dear."

You lost composure for a split second and let out a snort. "Apologies, my lady, are you ready to return to the carriage?"

Alcina only waved you off. "Oh come now, my love, there's no need to be so formal. They're a friend, after all, are they not?"

Yup, definitely feel a migraine coming on. Though you had to admit, the look on their face was absolutely priceless. They rubbed the back of their neck awkwardly. "I'll just um...I'll see ya around, y/n."

Alcina wore the proudest smile you had ever seen as they walked off.

"You're ridiculous sometimes, you know that?"

The vampires only laughed in response. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Alcina opened the carriage door for you and Bela to enter first, ever the gentleman, and took a moment to survey the village around her. Only when her eyes met your ex's did she enter the carriage herself, pulling her girls close.

[thestarrynightslover]

How to Say I Love You

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Word count: 2,582

Warnings: Smut implied.

Summary:  One day, Jay takes it upon himself to be an extra-cute boyfriend. The reason? It takes (y/n) a while to find out.

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the One Chicago shows, or its characters, also not associated with it in any way or know anyone involved with it.

A/N: Posting super late because the day was hard. So, just some more Jay fluff to brighten our days. Hope you like it!

(y/n) = (your name) (y/l/n) = (your last name) (y/n/n) = (your nickname)

| masterlist |

As soon as you woke up, you felt light kisses being pressed to all of your very exposed skin, and an inevitable smile came to your lips.

“Good morning, princess.” Jay whispered in your ear with a husky voice.

“Good morning for you too, baby.” You answered him while bringing his face closer to yours. On that movement, before you could kiss him, you caught a glance of your bedside clock. “Oh my God, Jay! Look at the time! I thought we’d agreed to get as much sleep as we could after last night!” You quickly reprehended him. “Or have you forgotten that both of us still have to go to work today?” You asked, trying to sound annoyed at him when the most you managed to do was breathe out was a moan, as he nibbed your earlobe.

“Oh, I know how much you like sleeping, babygirl. But I know that there are a few things you’d give up your sleep for.” He stated in a very sexy tone.

“And what exactly makes you think that you’re one of those things?” You teased your boyfriend, hoping he’d respond to it like you thought he would.

“Ah, just a little something,” he teased back while slowly putting his hand between your legs, not even bothering to lift the hem of the shirt you were wearing, “like this.”

“Oh, Jay…” And, just like that, you were completely fine with waking up early.

                                                          ---

Throughout the day, you just couldn’t keep the smile off your face, as your boyfriend took it upon himself to be the cutest person in the world. Why? You had no idea. All you knew was that he'd gotten the day off but, since you couldn't the same, he'd decided to go to work nonetheless.

His romantics for no apparent reason started with a bouquet of your favorite flowers and a note that read:

“Will you be my lunch date today? *blinking face*

P.S.: 12:00 - 13:00 is all I have. Sorry, doll :(

Meet me at our spot?

⎼ Your bae.”

He used bae. If he wasn’t so cute, and if you didn’t love him so much, you would have cringed at the choice, and he knew it. Ah, that man...

A few hours after that, you went to meet Jay for lunch at your spot ⎼ which was one of the benches along the Riverwalk, where you’d first met ⎼, absolutely decided on calling him out for being so mushy. But, as you walked closer towards him, you could see that your boyfriend was holding a picnic basket in one hand, and a bottle of champagne in the other, and, as corny as that was, you couldn’t help but grin. 

“Drinking on duty now, detective?” You asked, raising your eyebrow at him.

“Nope. This one’s without alcohol. And, trust me, you’ll like it.” He told you, a sweet smile on his lips.

“Hum, maybe... But I wouldn’t really mind if it was bad either.” You half-whispered at Jay.

“Oh no?” He asked you with a smirk this time.

“No. The company makes up for anything else.” You said while moving to kiss him.

“Geez, babe, you're such a dork!" He said, making fun of you after the kiss was over.

"Really? That's what you're going with?" You, the dork? Big joke.

"What else can I say if it's the truth?" Jay asked you through his lashes, an innocent expression in-face.

"Look who's talking!" You said while rolling your eyes.

Not long after that, he put an end to your little banter. Saying that he didn't wanna spend another second of the few moments the two of you had until the evening arguing was an understatement. You agreed, even though you knew that both of you secretly enjoyed the bickerings as well as you did everything else.

Later, on that same day, when you were about to leave work, you decided to call your boyfriend.

"Hey, babe." He answered, on the fourth ring, voice letting on some tiredness.

"Hey there, handsome! I'm already leaving work, think I’mma go swim a little. Unless… There's a chance you're getting off a little earlier yourself?" You tried your luck, thinking about making him relax a little before you two left for dinner.

"Uh… Sorry, babe, I don't think I'll be able to." A deep sigh. Something was wrong.

"Jay. Is everything okay?" Another sigh. Shit.

"It's nothing for you to worry about, baby. Just a pain-in-the-ass case we can't seem to solve. When all I wanted to do was be home with you." He confessed.

"Huh. Now, tell me, who's the dork?" You heard his muffled laugh over the phone.

"I am. You know it. I know it. Everyone who knows us knows it." At that, you were the one who giggled. "And, believe me, I bear the title with pride." More laughing, from both of you this time.

"Okay, then… So, um, is there anything I can do? Maybe we cancel that dinner reservation?"

"No! No, not at all! You just… Go do your swimming and don't worry about me, okay?" Jay sounded a bit weird this time, but you brushed it off, thinking that it was just the stress of the day.

"Okay…" You replied, still unconvinced. 

"Alright, I gotta go now. Love you."

"Okay, bye. Love you too. Be safe!"

"Always, baby." With that, he hung up quickly, which he never did ⎼ always dragging the conversations for as long as he could. But, once again, you decided to do what your boyfriend told you to and not worry about it.

It was already a bit into the evening and you were stretching your body to leave the swimming pool, when you saw him. Jay. So you got out and walked over to him.

"Fancy meeting you here, miss (y/l/n)." He greeted innocently.

"Well, this is a surprise. Yet another one. On the same day." You said, just to let him know that his weird behaviors weren't going by unnoticed.

"Ah, you know what they say… Gotta keep the relationship interesting!" Ha, ha. He was up to something. So you just gave him a suspicious look. To which he answered with a huge smile, saying: "What?"

"Nothing. Nothing besides the fact that you're up to something. What is it?"

"Oh. My. God." Jay said emphatically, faking offense. "I'm offended. You think that poorly of me?"

"What do you mean?" You asked him, a bit confused this time.

"You really think that I can't just try and brighten my princess's day?" He said, walking closer to you this time.

"Well, I guess that I wouldn't object to that, but what I'm saying is tha-" Before you could finish your sentence, he was pulling you towards him, pressing your bodies on a tight embrace and kissing you passionately. 

"Oh no, Jay, you should let me go! I'm all wet!" You squeal out as Jay keeps holding you up in the air against his firm abdomen.

"I don't mind." He told you with a shrug of shoulders. "I'm used to having you like this." He, then, whispers in your ear and you can feel his smirk, as he kisses your neck.

"Jay!" You hissed in fake disapproval. "We're in public! You can't be saying these things to me in public!"

"Sorry, baby. But you know that I just can't help myself around you." He tells you, deliberately taking his time. At that, you just throw back your head in laughter. "Besides, it doesn't seem to me like you're feeling all that bothered with my actions…"

"But I am!" You said assertively. But then you remembered your conversation from earlier and asked him, in a softer tone: "Hey, um, how did the case go? Are you still feeling up for the dinner thing?" As soon as the words left your mouth, you watched Jay shift his entire demeanor.

"Yeah! We're definitely still going! And, as I told you before, the case was just a pain in the ass, nothing more." He sounded nervous. Weird. Like he was hiding something.

"Jay…"

"Let's just go, okay? Cause we still need to get ready for dinner. I already put your stuff in the duffel bag. My car's right outside." Jay told you quickly, like he didn't wanna give you time to make any conclusions.

"Okay, then…"

                                                           ---

“C’mon, (y/n/n)! We’re running late!” You heard your boyfriend shouting for you to come out of your shared bedroom.

“Hey! Don’t you dare to rush me! Not when you’re the reason I’m running late in the first place!” You sharply answered, stepping out into the living room whilst putting your earring on. “Besides, that place we’re going is just too fancy. I need to look perfect.” You added more calmly, only now realizing how Jay was staring at you. “What? Is something wrong?”

“Wha- wrong? No! No!” He quickly assured you and closed the distance between the two of you. “You already look perfect. Every single day.”

“What? Jay, I’m serious!” You pouted, giving him an annoyed glare.

“I am too! You look gorgeous, baby.” He told you with that glorious smile of his. “And, really, there’s just no place on the planet that could make you look any less gorgeous.”

“Okay, now you’re just trying to get me to hurry up!” You accused, hitting him with considerable strength in the chest.

“Ouch! That hurt! And, yes, I am trying to hurry you up! Because we have a reservation!” He yelled at you in response. If it was any other time, you would’ve argued with him, of course. But even you had to admit he was right, you were on the clock.

“Okay, okay! I’m just gonna grab my purse and we’ll go!” You shouted back, already from the bedroom.

After that, the two of you managed to leave your apartment and get to the restaurant on time, due to Jay promising the cab driver a doubled pay if he went faster.

As soon as you arrived, though, you saw it was worth it. You still had no clue of what got in your boyfriend’s head to take you out on this kind of date for no apparent reason like that, especially after everything else he’d already done, but you obviously weren’t about to complain either.

 The maître walked both of you two to a table on the upper floor of the establishment, it had an amazing view of the city and it was a pretty reserved space. So, right after you'd placed your orders and been left alone, you half-squealed at Jay:

"Oh. My. God." Your smile was wide and your eyes were shining. "This place is incredible, babe!" He looked at you with devotion, clearly amused by your reaction.

"I know right? I'm really glad we got to come here." He stated, his whole behavior letting you know that he was just as impressed.

And, like that, the evening flew by and you caught yourself stifling yawn after yawn.

"Baby, you’re not too desperate to go home, are you? Because there's still one thing I wanna show you." Your boyfriend said, pulling you by your hand to get up. Then, he guided you to that part where you'd been able to view most Chicago, earlier in the night.

"Wow," you said, leaning against the balcony to see the details, "this really is great, babe." When you’d walked past this part you wondered about why they hadn't put any tables there, only a small couch, but now you knew. They didn't want to make that space ⎼ that landscape ⎼ prisoner of one couple, or one family, that would most likely stay there the entire night.

"It is." He agreed with you.

"You know, I hadn't brought it up yet, because I thought that you'd eventually tell me on your own, but you've been acting a little weird the whole day. This morning in bed, the flowers, then the picnic lunch, picking me up at swimming, and now this… You didn't sound too good on that call either, and I gotta admit that when you said we were going out for a fancy dinner, I didn't think it'd be here, where it's practically impossible to get a reservation. So, just… Talk to me, Jay."

"(y/n/n)... Would you even believe me if I told you that that's what I've been preparing to do the whole day?" He asked you with a shy smile.

"Will you be mad at me if I say no?" You asked, a bit apprehensively. He just laughed.

"Nah, not really." He told you jokingly. "But I have." He said, more serious this time. “Baby, you’re the best thing that ever happened to me.” He started telling you.

“Jay-” You whispered nervously, sort of anticipating what was about to happen.

“No, just- just please let me finish. I need you to understand how important you are to me, princess. Hell, I know that words aren’t really my strongest suit, but you deserve to know that you’re my light, my lifeline, my happiness… You’re my everything, (y/n/n). My entire world. And, because of you, now I think that it is actually okay to dream, to hope for a better future, for a future. That’s why I wanna ask you, tonight, to be my future, just like you already are my present.” At that moment you couldn’t keep the tears off of your face anymore, and you would’ve jumped him right then if he hadn’t gotten down on one knee. “Will you marry me, (y/n) (y/l/n)?” He asked you with a timid smile and teary eyes of his own. As you took in the man you loved, kneeled before you, holding an open box with the diamond ring you’d recognized as being his mother’s, you just stood there crying, not managing to say anything. “B- baby? Please say something.” Jay spoke again, letting out a nervous choked laugh. So you forced yourself to answer him.

“Oh m- my God, yes!!” You squealed out.

“Yes?!?” He repeated what you said, still on the ground.

“Of course, yes!!!” You confirmed, pulling him up to kiss you. While at it, your boyfriend, now fiancé, almost dropped the small velvet box he was holding.

“Okay,” he started, chuckling, after the two of you parted a little, “let me put this thing on your finger before you back down!”

“Ha, ha. As if I was going to! You’re only in a hurry because you’re scared you’ll drop your mom’s ring.” You bickered a little, letting him know that you recognized the jewelry, to which he responded with a bright smile, saying:

“It’s your ring now, princess. And, trust me, she’d love you almost as much as I do if she were still here.” He told you, shining eyes meeting yours, as he slipped the stunning piece in your finger.

“Jay.” You breathed out as the tears resurfaced in your eyes. “It is so beautiful…” You told him looking down at the ring you had in-hand. “And… You really mean that?”

“100%, princess. If I’m being honest, there are a lot of times when you actually remind me of her…” He said, tearing up a little.

“Awww, babe...” You said throwing your arms around him again.

And that’s how you two stayed. Just holding each other, under a very starry night in Chicago. More than ready to start walking down that new road together.

[angelkurenai]

Wish upon - Bucky Barnes x Reader

Title: Wish upon

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: None

Summary: You were close when Wanda’s grief took over and she inevitably started controling an entire town, including you. Being her closest friend, though, instead of simply playing along, you were given a normal life of your own, with a daughter and husband whom you knew very well but never thought you had feelings for. Months later as you try to figure out your emotions for Bucky, the man seems to be trying to find every reason to stay close to you. Including asking you to join him when he’s ready to follow Sam in his adventures.

“Is that... Is that what I think it is?” you blinked several times, head tilted as you took in the object your husband was, full of pride you could clearly tell, holding and showing off to you.

“You bet it is. Polished, glittered or bedazzled, I can never tell the difference it's equally sparkly anyway, but above all ready to deliver justice. It's finally finished. Right on time at that.” he set the small pink and sparkly shield on the kitchen counter, right next to the baby bottle you'd just filled, because he knew just as well as you did that it was honestly the only way you'd keep looking at the toy and hoped that you'd like it. Which you did, sure, but not in the way Bucky hoped. “Well, what do you say about it?”

“I say that it would certainly deliver justice, no doubt by dazzling the bad guys first and foremost. Besides-” you tore your eyes away from the toy to narrow them at your husband “Just on time for what?”

“Halloween, of course.” he shrugged casually as he slowly made to reach for a piece of the potatoes you'd cooked to have on the side for dinner, but you noticed him and slapped his hand away, earning a not-so-innocent smile in return “I mean... What else is there else to talk about, of significance, in a small town like Westview besides holidays and who the new otherworldly couples in town are. The second having little to no point when one's wife can read minds, amongst so many other things, and said one is a metal-armed 106-year-old.” he sighed, raising his metal arm which he usually kept covered when outside “Honestly, I don't know who're gonna get called out on it first. Wanda and Vision or us.”

“We're handling it great. Besides, oh well a 15 year old gap is so overrated anyway. I tell you, 106 is the new 30, don't you worry a second, dear. You don't look a day over that.” you smiled sweetly, leaning in to peck his lips as he grinned.

“Ah yes, coming from the woman who last time we fought you told me that it's time to stop mourning over my buddy Rexi the dinosaur cause they're all gone now.” he said with a raised eyebrow and you shrugged.

“I don't see what you mean, I was still right.” you brushed him off, checking once more the temperature of the milk “Besides, getting off track here? You still haven't explained to me how that lovely and sparkly shield is of any use to us in Halloween?”

“Well, not us, obviously.” he turned to, according to everyone including him, his little princess “Jean of course!” he picked one of her hands and let her tiny fingers wrap around one of his as she let a giggle when he kissed her belly “It's all you've been talking about with Wanda these days. Her boys have their suits already in mind, it wouldn't be right for Jean to not have hers. It's her first Halloween anyway, even if she can't do any proper trick or treat yet.”

“I'm well aware of that, seeing as I've been planning all of ours suits. And no-” you raised a finger when you saw him raise an interested eyebrow “No, I'm not wearing the skirt version of it. Besides, what we're talking about here is Jean and I still fail to see how a shield will be any part of our little Phoenix's suit.”

“Well, because it's Halloween and she's- Well, she's part of this and she'll- The shield is part of the suit, honey. Obviously. I don't see what confuses you so much as to-”

“And I don't see what confuses you so much that you'd make a shield for her, beautiful as it might be, even though it has no place in all of it. Especially after I made it quiet clear on what costume will be.” you pointed out, baby bottle back on the counter as you crossed your arms over your chest “Honestly, I would rather her have a sparkly version of Sam's redwing before incorporating the shield in her phoenix look.”

He let silence fill the room, save for your daughter's adorable baby noises, before he finally spoke in all seriousness “No, no you wouldn't. You hate that thing too... It was the main reason that made me ask the question, like when you realize you've met your soulmate.”

“I-” only half a pause before you nodded “Yeah, you're right. I hate it... although I can't really remember how it looks like sometimes to be honest. Huh weird.” you let out a breathless laugh, frowning nonetheless.

“Oh how I'd wish for that sort of blessing.” he huffed “Including its owner.”

“Hush you love him!” you hit his shoulder “And, well, that's still all besides the point. Because Jean is not going to have a redwing or shield to her phoenix look in any sort of way. Maybe next Halloween if you wanna choose the costume, fine by me. But this year I am following through with my plans and not changing my mind.”

“Plans of what? Her being a phoenix bird? I get it, it's all magical and what not but-”

“Not just any phoenix bird, geez weez, do you not even listen when I speak, Mr Barnes?” you shook your head with a roll of your eyes.

“Well, sometimes it gets impossibly hard when you look as stunning as today, Mrs Barnes. Sadly all words fade away and as I am captured by your beauty all I can seem to hear is kiss me. How can I not comply?” he said so innocently and with such an adorable smile you couldn't help your fond one in return.

Seeing such adoration and love written all over your face had your heart on overdrive again, as if it was the first time you realized you were in love with him again. It was incredible how you could barely remember that moment whenever you thought about it, however you didn't care. You couldn't find yourself to care when looking at him had your chest fill with warmth, a pleasant buzz all over your body and no weight dragging you down. He made things more simple, having his love and having him by his side made life have meaning and your future full of hope. It hadn't been easy, that much in a way you could remember, but you knew it was worth it because he was worth it. You wanted to give him all your love, wishing that it could live up to the one in his eyes for you in return, so that he could understand what you did from the first moment you met him: he deserved it.

And even if- you couldn't explain why you thought so, but even if there were ever people that would willingly leave him behind, even if you'd never understand that, you were ready to show to him that you could and would be with him till the end of the line. This love you had in you for him had sealed the deal long before you even knew about it.

If anything, you were more than willing to live in this small town, heavens in these four walls of your house, so long as you had him by your side and were able to give him all the love you didn't know you had for him.

You shook your head lightly and gave him “Sweet talking me will get you nowhere, darling. Or rather-” you paused, smirking at him “It might get you in one place. The bedroom.” you grinned when you saw his eyebrows raise in interest “To get Jean's suit. Cause I remember I have some adjustments to make.”

“Bet you do.” he huffed like a little child “Cause she'll be a bird and not a superhero who-”

“Not just a phoenix bird, Buck. The phoenix, that's different.” you pointed out, making him frown.

“How is that different? And what... is the phoenix?”

“Well, it's-” you started but paused abruptly, frowning at your own thoughts “It's actually-” you blinked several time and let out a nervous laugh “Funny thing, I... can't remember. Wow that's... it happens all the more often lately.”

“Can't be important then, right?” he brushed it off casually even though you kept frowning in deep thought which for some reason didn't lead anywhere “Certainly no more than Jean's suit that it... And how we could incorporate a shiel-”

“No.” you cut him off before he could get to complete his sentence “Not gonna happen. I've already got everything planned, you're not going to ruin my plans.”

“Is this how it's gonna go every Halloween now? Us fighting over what Jean's costume will be until she's old enough to choose herself?”

“Oh dear, of course not. It's not fighting when you don't stand a chance against me in the first place.” you shrugged innocently and he tried to look stern by narrowing his eyes at you but you smiled and pecked his lips before speaking “I mean, you could never say no to these pretty eyes, could you?” you batted your eyes at him and he very fast, much faster than last time, sighed in defeat and nodded his head “Besides, you don't have to worry. Next Halloween we'll make her a costume that incorporates the shield too, happy?”

“Always.” he breathed out with such ease that it took a few seconds for you to not openly stare at just how much relaxed he looked, how he truly meant it and how shockingly different he looked while admitting it compared to only a few months ago... months, you weren't sure of the time anymore but truth was that you didn't care, because if there was one thing you could remember was that he had not always been like this and to have him truly happy made everything worth it.

“However-” he cleared his throat, as if noticing how you'd zoned out “That doesn't really solve the problem. Having to compromise, you know. Why should any of us have to? However, if we were to have more than one option...” he trailed off, leaning in closer without any regard for your personal space, not that he needed to, as you narrowed your eyes suspiciously at him “Say... if we were to have more than one options then things wouldn't be this hard, right? Just... to make it easier on ourselves?”

“Make it easier... how exactly?”

His hands found your hips, earning a small giggle from you as he pecked your neck once, twice and three times before he kissed your cheek and the temple, whispering in the end “Let's make more.” it earned a squeal from your as your eyes widened but he grinned even more widely “Come on, think about it. A little boy or maybe another baby girl, Jean would make a great sister. And we wouldn't have to argue about the Halloween costumes. Besides... would be a fun process either way.”

“You have to be kidding me.” you gave him a serious expression but his hopeful smile- no, scratch that. His smile that was bordering that of an idiot, if not lovesick one (but you were on the same boat on that), didn't fade in the least bit “Oh you have to- Alright, Mr Barnes, how about you learn how to feed your daughter without making a mess first and then you can come and talk to me about a second or third one hm? Cause, good as you might be at changing diapers, it ain't just that.”

“She just makes a mess because she enjoys to laugh at my expense, just like you and Sam.” he pointed out and you fought back a smile “And- Hold up a second... did you just say third? You think you're gonna let me ask for a third one too?”

Your eyes widened when you realized that he was really considering the prospect before your lips parted, you being ready to retort-

Only for no words to be uttered after that from your lips. The only sound being a deep intake of air as you were startled awake. Soon followed by a groan as you took in your surroundings and realized you were sadly still in your room. Sadly? Really? You didn't know if that was the case but even if it was, you didn't want to think even more about it. You buried your face in your pillow, not ready to face the day yet because... who were you even kidding? You wanted to go back to it. If not that fake reality, if not the playhouse that Wanda had built out of her grief and had dragged you into it as well - and maybe you hated yourself for how part of you did want that - then at least your dream would be nice.

It's been months and yet it feels as if it's been just yesterday that you were all released from her control. How could you not feel that way after all? When you were awake, the fake reality you'd thought your life was constantly on your mind, and when you were asleep even if you were not thinking of it, you were dreaming about it. It was constantly on your mind. And as if the experience itself, mind-control and all, hadn't left you with a few mental scares to add to your already existing ones to take care of, then the realization of the truth that lay within your own heart, was more than enough to keep the events replaying on your mind day and night.

To put matters simply: when you had followed your best friend, Wanda, after seeing her so distraught, leaving SWORD, you had never thought you'd find yourself playing house with a fake copy of one and only James Bucky Barnes thanks to said best friend. But while there was a chance for that, you never thought there was a chance that you'd realize you had feelings for the man all along.

Your life had been different there. Maybe because you were always close with the other Avenger, who knew. While there were times where you'd experience Wanda's grief, her nightmares from time to time came to haunt you at night just like it did with the rest of the town, your life was mostly... good. No, forget that, your life was nearly perfect. You had everything you wished for and things you didn't even know you had wished for. Maybe deep down you had always wanted it, a normal life, peace and calm, a kid whether it was yours or not... Bucky. You had probably always wanted him but didn't know it yourself, no doubt you were too busy crushing over Steve.

If only your current self could see your past self, or at least self of barely a year ago, you'd have smacked some sense into your stupid self who thought Steve Rogers was the only man you could ever have eyes for. While you had come to be very close with the Captain and ended up doing almost everything together, everyone thought there was much more to the two of you, that it hadn't even occurred to you to think that Steve wasn't really the one you wanted. Maybe you had convinced yourself so, in a way that now that he was no longer there you were more shaken by the fact that you were not shaken by how he had decided to live his life with Peggy in the past than his absence itself.

You had not felt any sort of betrayal, nor that you were suddenly all alone, certainly not as if anything was missing from your life. Granted, you had plenty to think about most of the time, day and night, but that didn't change things. You wished Steve had had a happy ending and you would on the occasion miss him the way you'd miss... a brother. You were always calm, no worries or fears, content with the fact that you knew he had been happy even if it was away from you because, in a way, you wanted it to be that way, it was natural. However, the mere thought of someone else leaving, someone that you thought far too often about, made your heart leap to your throat and your stomach tie in knots. The mere thought that Bucky could leave the way Steve had done made your throat close in a painful way and your eyes burn with tears, making you realize just who mattered the most.

If, again, Wanda plucking the truth about your feelings for the man to give you a life with him wasn't proof enough.

Your phone buzzing made you jump once more, eyes landing on the device on the nightstand. Reaching for it you were not surprised to see the messages that were pilled in your inbox. All from the same specific someone. A specific someone you had found yourself speaking with all the more often lately. Each time successfully managing to make you smile in one way or another, without fail.

Good morning. :)

Did I use that one correctly? I keep forgetting them, no matter how many times you show me.

And show him you had, just like that there was an option for him to choose from different ones instead of having to type them, but that was still work in progress. So even if Bucky learning emojis was a memory that you'd cherish forever, it wasn't the only important one at the moment.

On second thought, it's a bit too early.

You're probably still asleep. Nevermind. Sorry for bothering you.

And then more, shortly afterwards.

I only wanted to know if you're alright, that's all.

Anyway, hope I didn't wake you up.

He, much like everyone else, thought it was hard on you to deal with Steve being gone so he did his best to keep in touch and being as selfish as you were, you didn't bring yourself to tell him the truth that you cared more to know about how he was and wanted the contact for that. Maybe he was also worried about you after Wanda's mind-control too. But if Sam's words were anything to go by, then it was all an excuse for Bucky to stay close with you. You didn't let your hopes get up for that reason though. You could gladly take whatever you got without wondering.

Again it was followed not much later by another message.

I've actually got something to talk to you about. Something happened, though you could already know if you saw the news. Can I come over to talk with you? I need your opinion on the matter.

And shortly afterwards came.

I've already got your favorite breakfast. To make up for, probably, waking you up. :)

The next one had taken longer, he had probably been waiting for an answer all that time. You couldn't help but feel bad about it. That and the fact that the reason behind you not replying earlier was because of how immensed you were in your fantasy life with him that you had not told him a thing about.

(Y/n)... are you sure you're alright? It's getting late even for you.

Truth was you had more trouble waking up after having a dream of that time. But you couldn't tell him that. And then there was the latest one.

Alright, I'm coming over. I really hope you're not dead in there. I'm not going to let you hear the end of it if you are. Oh dear, I sound like Sam right now. Forget I ever said that. Both of it.

Before you even had the time to think about what he could mean, because no you had really not seen the news yet, let alone type back a reply, the door to your bedroom burst open. It earned a squeal from you as you looked with wide eyes at Bucky standing on the doorway. You weren't even surprised how you hadn't heard him, not when he already had keys to your apartment and could easily sneak up on you. Not that him surprising you was what you cared about at the moment. It was, and you could only admit it to yourself, more important how you looked at the moment – and having just woken up you weren't sure just how attractive you looked – than anything else. Especially when Bucky looked better than ever with that new haircut that you were sure he'd gotten on purpose, just to test how much your heart could take.

“I thought doors existed back in your days, Barnes. Maybe knocking was an option too.”

You saw him let out a sigh of relief, shoulders relaxing “What would have been the point if you were dead? You wouldn't have replied anyway.”

“Bold of you to assume I would miss on another chance to lecture you about the proper use of emojis, Mr Barnes. Even death could not stop me.” you broke into a grin and he chuckled.

“What, did I really mess it up?” he asked with a small, far too adorable for your own good, frown.

“Oh no you got it just right.” you said softly, adoring the proud look on his face before you added “However, I've told you, you don't have to type them anymore. There is an option on your keyboard with that kind of stuff for you to-”

“Eh alright, alright I get it. I suck at it. I'm not even gonna try using them anymore.”

“Wha- No!” you whined softly “No, Buck, I didn't mean that. Come on, you're good. You just... have a lot to learn still.” you shrugged “That's all. We didn't do great at first either. Nobody really got emojis a first, but you'll get the hang of it.”

“But you still think I am a grandpa when it comes to technology. And my age doesn't help on that case either.” he shrugged, as if he meant it casually as a joke but you could see a small hint of self-consciousness there as well.

“Nonsense.” you said softly, finally throwing the blankets off you “You're far from a grandpa, Buck. In fact, I strongly believe that 106 is the new 30, and you don't look a day over that.” the words were out of your lips before you could even think about it and when you realized what you'd said, your smile flattered a bit. You were glad his back was turned to on that second that he didn't notice. You cleared your throat, sobering up “Besides, new things are not everyone's cup of tea anyway.”

“Uh yeah...” you notice the relaxed, and almost happy, look fade away from his face as his eyebrows pulled back into a frown. He looked down for a second, leaning against the doorframe with his hands in his pockets “Things do change. Sometimes faster than we can adapt to the new world around us.”

“Alright, unless you're channeling Charles Darwin right now, which I don't think you are, care to explain to me what's wrong? Because... I am guessing something is, judging by your expression.” you got up and approached “Is this... about the shield? I- I don't know if Sam giving it up is that much of a good choice however... he must have his reasons, right?”

“Well, yes, but- this is not just about that.” he sighed, finally looking up to meet your eyes “Something happened and I've been thinking about it, I wanted your opinion on it. You know it matters to me.”

“...And? There is more to that, come on. Tell me.” you knew him too well and you hadn't even realized when that happened too “You know you can... Always.”

“I do.” he paused for a moment, holding your gaze before he let a soft sigh “It's just, I am going to go find Sam and... I want you to come with me. If you're up for it, I would like you to be there with me... maybe?”

“You know... I should punch you just for doubting whether I'd follow you or not. But just because it won't lead anywhere for me-” you smirked at him “Buy me dinner too and consider yourself excused and me up for any challenge. Strongest Avenger at your disposal, Mr Barnes.” you patted his shoulder, enjoying the deep chuckle that came from him. Even if his next words made the air get caught in your throat.

“It's a date then.”

[remakethestars]

Being Damian Wayne's Twin Sister Would Include:

Headcanons.

❝Exactly. I don't ask my dog to drive, and I don't ask the Justice League to solve my problems.❞

— Damian Wayne, Adventures of the Super Sons #9: Showdown on Hexworld

TRIGGER WARNING: Cursing, (Damian’s) death. Mentions of toxic masculinity and internalized misogyny, nightmares, blood, knives.

Headcanon masterlist.

When people ask you, “So, which one of you is the evil twin?” Damian always glowers, and you always motion to him.

You look disturbingly alike when only your eyes are showing; Damian’s got long lashes. Talia taught you a good tactic for tag-teaming in combat as kids was to pull up your hinged balaclavas and make the enemy think there was only one of you, that they’re seeing double.

Or for one of you to hang back while the other attacks as a distraction before the other knocks them out from behind.

Obviously, this won’t work when the two of you start filling out, but it works when you’re kids. It’s the reason why, even off the field, the two of you usually wear a matching outfits with hoods.

You utilize the same methods when she sends you to live with Bruce.

You don the Robin costume just like he does, much to the rest of the Batfam’s confusion (both because they weren’t expecting it and because they can’t tell you apart either), but sticking with the “red” theme, you go by Redstart.

There’s a rumor on the street that Robin V. is a meta that can teleport.

The two of you are freakishly good at mimicking the other’s voice and mannerisms, which makes it even harder for your family.

Jason tells you two about April Fools Day, and you make the most of it. Of course, Damian’s a pain in the a$$ and decides to go around pretending to be you and getting into trouble. You’re banned from the mall, and you still have no idea why. 

The two of you can communicate with just an impassive expression (Dick says it looks like a prime example of twin telepathy to anyone else), but anyone close to you knows sh¡t’s about to hit the fan when the two of you look at each other and smirk.

If it’s something you can’t communicate nonverbally, you use your cryptophasia. 

Cryptophasia is a language developed by twins when they’re learning to talk. Most of them grow out of it, you and Damian decided to keep developing it so it became more of a conlang. No one else has been taught to speak it, and they never will be. It’s for emergencies only.

Sun Tzu’s The Art of War was your Bible growing up, and the two of you call out verses when you fight together and need the other to understand a tactic (you both inherited Bruce’s eidetic memory, so you’ve got it memorized).

When you get too big to pull off the which-is-which game, you make your own costume and become the true Redstart. 

It’s basically Damian’s Robin uniform (the Super Sons’s version is the only one I’ll accept), but the boots and gloves are black, the biceps have a white stripe, the lining of the cape is white (the lining of the hood is black), the gold accents become white, it has a zipper down the front instead of clasps, and the mask becomes black (including the eyes). The waterline of the eyes is white. Like a painted redstart.

If Damian’s into animals, you’re into plants. The two of you find common ground on the fact that pollution sucks, so when you walk Titus, you take a trash bag and gloves with you to pick up litter as you go.

You did not want to go to Jon’s school. 

Not because you don’t like Jon (because you do), but because you know you could run intellectual circles around every one of those snot-nosed brats. 

School is stupid. Especially because the American education system is subpar; everything about it is.

You hardly pay attention in class. You do all of the homework a week ahead of time incase something comes up. Usually you’re doing next week’s homework in class. You’ve written entire papers on your phone in Google Docs in the middle of class to be printed out later.

If you’ve already done everything, Damian’s usually drawing and you’re daydreaming or you’re working on a case on your phone.

The teachers are always trying to catch you not paying attention, but you little sh¡ts can always answer their questions. 

Damian’s closest with Dick, but you’re closest with Tim. You admire his ability to plan ahead (see the entirety of the Red Robin comics), and you know that he’s better than both your father and your grandfather; you want to be as good as him when you grow up.

It takes a long time to wash the toxic masculinity and internalized misogyny our of your head, to learn that your grandfather’s ideas of “strength” were wrong, that it’s okay to lean on someone besides Damian, that you can be just as strong as your brother and still be feminine, that there are acceptable emotions besides anger.

Actually, your father teaches you that anger is more likely to get you killed. He won’t let you go into the field when he knows your angry.

It’s harder to drill out of you than your instinct to kill.

There’s a Lebanese restaurant called Tarbooshes (Teen Titans Special #1) the two of you go to when you’re feeling homesick. They make ox blood soup the same way your mother did, and it’s the only non-vegetarian thing Damian will eat for that very reason.

It’s nice to have a place to go where they know you by name and know what you want when you tell them “the usual.” It’s nice to have a place where you’re not a Wayne or an Al Ghul, where you’re just [Y/N] and Damian.

You disappear for an hour on your birthday to eat there. Bruce has asked you were you go, but you kept that between the two of you. 

Speaking of birthdays, you’re eleven minutes older than him. He was six pounds and ten ounces (Batman & Robin #0?), and you were a solid seven.

After Damian died, you go to Tarbooshes to feel close to him.

You were doing all right with the no-killing thing until the night Damian died.

Heretic never stood a chance.

He looked so much like Damian it gave you nightmares, though. Nightmares where you killed your twin brother and woke up sobbing.

Damian didn’t give you a speech in his last moments. He just looked over at you and said in your cryptophasia, “I’m sorry.” 

Not “I love you.” Not “Take care of them for me.” You knew that; you’d do that. He didn’t have to tell you, and he didn’t have to ask.

Just “I’m sorry.” Sorry that you were the one that was left behind.

It’s one thing to lose a family member, to lose a friend, or to lose a lover. It’s another to lose half of your soul.

The two of you had always feared you would die apart. It had always been a possibility; you weren’t stupid enough to think, “It’ll never happen to me.” Because it definitely could. 

And it had.

You wanted to run away from everything. Even just for a while. Go to one of your safe houses in London or France or whatever and just — you didn’t know — stare at the wall until you felt better? But you’d made that unspoken promise to Damian — “I’ll take care of them for you; don’t worry.” — to take care of Titus and Catfred and Jerry and Batcow and Goliath, to take care of Alfred and Bruce and Dick and Jason and Cassandra and Tim, to take care of Jon and Colin and Maps.

You avoided the cave. And if you had to go down there for some reason, you refused to look at the Robin suits.

Dick noticed. He asked if you wanted them taken down, even just for a while. You gave him a look like he was nuts and said, “No.”

Jon was a mess. More of a mess than you were, somehow. 

You’d shown up at the Kents’s. Jon was out doing Superboy things with Clark and Conner. Lois was the only one home.

You nearly scared her out of her skin when you materialized behind her and asked, “Is Jon home? It’s important.” 

He had to know first. He deserved to.

For all he put up with from you two, he deserved to be the first to know when one of you was f*cking dead.

Lois, of course, bless her heart, had the mom instincts to know that you were in no way, shape, or form okay even when you were trying so hard to hold yourself together. She asked you what’s wrong, and it’s what made you break. 

Your lip trembled. “He’s gone.”

“Who’s gone?”

“Damian,” your voice broke. “He’s dead.” 

Jon came home to find you in his living room in your Robin uniform, covered in Damian’s and Heretic’s blood, snot running down your lip, sobbing in his mothers arms and knew what happened without having to ask. He did anyway.

When you and Jon both finally passed out, your Uncle Clark flew you back to the Batcave. No one was in any condition — not even Alfred — so he carried you up to your room; took your boots, mask, cape, and gloves off; and tucked you in. Then he went to find Bruce because there was no doubt he was losing it too.

Bruce doesn’t tell you anything about trying to find a way to bring him back without the Lazarus pit because he doesn’t want to get your hopes up. 

You walk into your room one day to find Damian sitting there reading the dissertation (the requirement was three pages, not 120, but your teacher would just have to deal with your coping mechanisms) you had been working on for your World History class and left up on your laptop while on patrol. 

He said with the utmost indifference, “You’ve made some good points, Sister,” and, of course, you pulled out a knife and attacked him because this was — was — was some shapeshifting alien or hologram tech or a cruel joke — your twin was dead, this wasn’t funny, whoever did this was going to pay.

He met you blow-for-blow and flipped away from you before saying, “And here I was expecting a warm welcome,” in your cryptophasia. 

“Brother?” 

“Tt. Obviously.” 

Yeah, a college level thesis. You’re smart. You inherited Bruce’s eidetic memory and were raised by assassins.

You learned seven languages and wrote five doctoral theses by the time your teeth came in, wrote your first letter to a newspaper editor when you were two, could’ve had a geology doctorate when you were seven (Super Sons #1), and it only took you a week to learn the language on Takron-Galtos. You’re smart.

You’re also incredibly skilled. You learned to drive when you were five (Super Sons #1), your mother trained you to go for weeks without eating (Adventures of the Super Sons #6), you can micro-sleep for days and converse with half your brain asleep, can use a muscular contraction to move your liver out of the way of a blade (Nightwing #20), and can place yourself in a deep trance to heal damages caused by a hematoma (also #20).

(My dumba$$ didn’t note what Super Sons/Adventure of the Super Sons comic I was reading when I took notes, so I don’t have all of them noted in the two above bullet points. But that’s where they’re from. If I end up rereading them, I’ll edit this and add the comic numbers.)

The first time on patrol you thought Bruce was gonna die, you called him Baba. 

The next evening, when Dick came to visit the cave, he turned to you and Damian and asked, “So, which one of you called him Dad?” 

“How’d you know?” you asked. 

“He’s smiling the way he did the day I called him Tati.”

“He’s not smiling,” Damian pointed out.

“He is on the inside.”

Can we talk about how royally the Arkham Knights game screwed up Tim Drake? (Though, everything seems to screw up Tim one way or another, I guess.) Why does he look like a quidditch player in the gif above the cut?

Visit my headcanon masterlist.

DISCLAIMER ━━━ I’m a dumb white American, and I don’t know much about Arab or Romani culture other than what I’ve learned online. I hope I got it right?? If I didn’t, please drop a comment or P.M. me or something to let me know!

[mortuus-poet]

Can you do a Headcannon about all the boys (better if it's together) comforting you after a fight with your parents or if you have low self-esteem?

I absolutely can! This one will be the poets comforting you after a fight with your parents!

Neil:

Oh boy, he knows what that’s like

He will be the most sympathetic person ever as soon as you tell him what happened

First thing he does: ask if you’re safe

If you say no, he goes completely series and takes every single precaution he needs to before addressing and evaluating the severity the situation

If you say yes, he takes a breath of relief but it’s right back to comfort mode

Instantly asks you what you need, what he can do to help etc

Whatever you need, he gets for you instantly

Hugs hugs hugs

If you’re okay with that! Obviously! He checks multiple times before he even thinks about hugging you

He’ll sit with you, give you lots of blankets, pillows, stuffed animals, anything to help comfort you and/or calm you down

Will listen to you scream, cry, yell, and rant about your parents for hours without a single interruption

If you tell him it’s okay to do so, he’ll talk shit about your parents with you

After you’re done ranting/crying/etc his next goal is to make you smile

He’ll turn on your favorite tv show/movie, get you you’re favorite food and drinks, and sits down to watch with you, cracking jokes with you until he hears you laugh

He makes sure you know he’s there for you no matter what the situation is, and if you ever need anything, he will get it for you or do it for you without second thought

Todd

God, parents are the worst, huh?

The second he sees your upset, he can kind of tell it’s because of your parents

He knows the feeling, trust me

He quickly pulls you into a soft hug, apologizing to you for having to go through any of that

He asks what happened and listens patiently the entire time you talk

If you need to cry, he’ll hold onto you while you do so, if you need to scream, he gives you pillows to scream into

He’ll probably call your parents assholes quiet a few times

Once you’re done, he assures you that you did absolutely nothing wrong and did in no way deserve their poor treatment

He tells you stories of arguments he’s had with his parents so you know you aren’t the only one going though this

He’ll sit with you for the rest of the day/night, trying to keep your mind off of it

Or, if you need to, he’ll spend the day/night listening to you rant and talk about how awful they are to you, he doesn’t mind either way, as long as it helps you feel better

1000% lets you stay with him for as long as you need if you need to get out of your house

Charlie

The second he sees you upset he’s ready to kick someone’s ass

HE comes to YOU before you get the chance to go to him

He heard from someone that you had seemed upset and instantly went to find you to make sure you’re okay

When you explain to him that it’s your parents that upset you, he gets even more angry

His parents aren’t exactly horrible to him, but they aren’t great either, so he knows where you’re coming from at-least somewhat

He will probably ramble about how shitty parents are for a second before stopping and asking you if you wanna talk about it

He’ll sit and listen intently, making a few snide comments towards your parents here and there

Once you get it all out of your system, his main goal Is to make you laugh

He’ll make jokes about your parents, call them stupid, childish insults, tell dramatic stories of the things “he would do to them”, anything he can do to make you smile or laugh

When he sees you even slightly smirk, he considers that a win

He’ll get serious for a second, assuring you that is wasn’t your fault and that they were the assholes here before he goes back to joking around with you about the situation

Jokes always make it feel less serious and painful, he knows that from personal experience, so he hopes his jokes about it make you feel a little less heavy and upset

Hangs out with you for the rest of the day/night

Expect him to give your parents a mean, nasty look the next time he sees them

Knox

Panic

You’d expect Todd to panic the most

Nope, it’s Knox.

His parents are actually good to him, so he doesn’t know first hand what it’s like, but he tries his absolute best to be sympathetic

After a bit of fumbling over his words and trying to figure out what’s happening, he calms down (atleast looks like he does) and asks what you need from him

He’ll do whatever you ask him to before settling down with you and letting you rant and talk about it

He might accidentally tell you “they’re your parents, I’m sure they still love you” or something along the lines

Once he realizes that upset you more, he profusely apologizes and lets you continue talking

He’ll hold your arm/hand/leg and draw small circles with his fingers to try and calm you down (with consent, ofc)

Once you’re done, he just apologizes that it happened and asks if there’s anything you want to do to help cheer you up or distract you

He will do anything you say you want to do happily

The next few days he comes up and checks in on you and how everything’s going

Meeks

You don’t need to say anything to him before he realizes that you’re upset and asks what’s up

When you tell him its your parents, he gets visibly upset but stays calm and asks if your safe and/or if you need help

If you say no, he’ll just sit down and let you talk

If you say yes, he lets you stay at his house and will do whatever is necessary to keep you safe and away from them

After that, he asks if you want to talk about it

When you say yes, he gladly sits down and listens to every word patiently, maybe asking a few questions and making a few comments here and there

He lets you lean on him, gives you hugs, holds your hand, and does really anything he thinks will help you feel better while you talk

After you finish talking, he will very gladly talk shit about your parents with you

He invites you to stay the night so the two of you can play games, watch movies and eat junk food to cheer up

Lets you pick every game you play, every movie you watch and every snack you guys eat

Pitts

The second he sees your upset, he opens his arms and hugs you as tight as he can

Quickly asks what’s wrong, if you’re hurt, who upset you etc

When you say your parents upset you, he just hugs you again and asks if you wanna talk about it

He sits and sympathetically listens to you the entire time,hardly even taking his eyes off you so you know he’s listening

As soon as you finish he hugs you again and asks what you wanna do to cheer up

He will very happily suggest the two of you make dinner and/or dessert together to take your mind off of it

He says baking always helps him, so he figures it’ll help you too

He’ll let you chose what the two of you cook together

Cameron

Confused older brother energy

He’s panicked when he sees you upset, but his big brother instinct kicks in and he really really wants to help

As soon as you come up to him upset, he gets the two of you sat down somewhere safe before asking questions

First thing he asks is if your parents are at fault

When you say yes, he asks if you’re safe and okay

If you say no, he will immediately start making a place for you in his house before addressing the situation and informing the authorities if he has to

If you say yes, he just prompts you to talk about it with him

He gives genuine advice as you speak, trying to comfort you and solve the problem at the same time

When you’re done, he asks if there’s anything he can do to help you either resolve the problem or atleast make you feel better

He will do whatever you need him to without any further questions, he’s just happy to help you out

If you want him to, he’ll talk shit about your parents with you, even if he feels bad about it afterwards

[narutogwriting]

dude your writing is superior, especially the Kiba one 🥵 would you consider making a part two to that one? I’m kinda hooked on the story now ngl

Thank you so much 🥺 Your guys’ asks make me so happy! Imma keep it real, I’m not stoked with how this one turned out, but I hope you like it!

Eat Your Words Pt 2

Pairing: Kiba Inuzuka x Reader

CW: NSFW; creampie

Length: 2.6k+

Summary: Kiba is your jerk of an ex boyfriend. After making the mistake of sleeping with him again,  you have some harsh words for him that leave him reeling.

Inspired by me wanting Kiba to rail me into oblivion

Please don’t tag as NSFW!

“Hey, what’re you so upset for!?” Kiba called as you shoved him off of you and got out of his bed. God, why had you done that!? Kiba sits up, propped up on his elbows as he watches you march around the room, grabbing your clothes and pulling them back on. You shook your head, waiting until you were fully clothed before turning on him.

“Are you kidding me?!” You snapped. “This is the problem, Kiba! This has always been your problem.” Shaking your head, you picked up Kiba’s own shirt to throw at him. “You think you can solve everything with sex! You think that everything’s okay, and I’m gonna stay just because I let you fuck me?”

Kiba rolled his eyes at you, tossing his shirt back on the floor.  He lounged back in bed, his hands folded behind his head. Kiba obviously had no shame as he laid back completely naked, not even trying to cover up.

“I can’t help it if I have a magic dick.” He snickered. “Not my fault that the sex is that good.” Kiba shot you a wolfish grin, being playful and deflecting as he always did. Did he even know how to have a serious conversation?

Gritting your teeth, you stalked to the side of his bed, surprising him with your vehemency. He could feel the anger radiating off of you. “Let me tell you something, Kiba.” You spat, standing over him. “Yeah, you might be good at fucking,” you said the word pointedly, wanting to make sure he understood the distinction. “But sex? Intimacy? Making a girl feel really good?” You gave a humorless laugh. “You have no idea about that. Even if you go home with a girl every night for the rest of your life, you’re always gonna be alone.”

~

Those words stayed with Kiba, ringing in his head constantly as the days passed. What had you meant by all of that? He tried to pretend it didn’t bother him, but something about it had shaken him to his core.

After you’d left, taking your shit with you just like you’d originally wanted, he’d gone straight to Ino’s house. He was pissed and annoyed and confused and needed some help letting out steam.

So he’d pounded her into the mattress doggy style, making her scream and moan just the way he liked. You’d told him he didn’t know how to make a girl feel good, but he thought that Ino would beg to differ. He spent an hour making her cum around his cock before he finally found his own release. When they collapsed into bed, Kiba found his arm slinking around Ino, something he usually didn’t do.

“That was good, right?” He asked her. 

“Oh yeah,” Ino sighed, sitting up and running a hand through her hair. “Great as always,” she told him as she made a move to get out of bed, but he stopped her with a squeeze to her hips. 

“Where ya going? I thought we could like, lay here, ya know? Cuddle and talk and shit.”

Turning to look at him, Ino gave Kiba an incredulous look, actually laughed at him, making him go red. “What the hell are you talking about?” She asked, pushing his hand off of her so she could get up. “That's… Not what this is.”

Feeling his cheeks burning, Kiba crossed his arms. “What do you mean ‘that’s not what this is’?” He muttered.

As Ino pulled on her top, she glanced back at him. “Kiba, you’re fun for like… a good time,” She explained gently. “But when it comes to that emotional shit, well, I have other guys I go to that for. That’s boyfriend shit, and you don’t exactly fit that bill…”

~

Kiba walked through the village, his head whirling. Did girls really not see him as boyfriend material? Just as a quick fuck? Kiba had never been super into relationships, really had only ever focused on hooking up before, but he’d never considered that maybe girls didn’t want to date him either. He was a catch! Wasn’t he?

He began to think more and more about what you’d meant, that he could fuck, but he didn’t know how to have sex? Well, what was the difference?

The brain has a way of picking up patterns. Once presented with new information, it will begin to recognize that information everywhere. That’s what was happening to Kiba, and it was happening specifically with you.

What had he been hoping for after you slept together? That you would look at him with heart eyes again and fall back head over heels? Break up with gyoza boy and come back to him? 

Well, yeah. That’s exactly what he’d been hoping.

Because, okay, yeah, he was aware that he wasn’t exactly the perfect boyfriend. He knew he wasn’t always as attentive to your needs as you were to his, was realizing that sometimes when you just wanted a kiss and a hug, he was dragging you back to the bedroom before he even recognized something might be wrong.

He was selfish and self-centered and arrogant and okay, now he got it. He was the worst boyfriend. And maybe you wouldn’t understand this, wouldn’t believe him and he couldn’t even blame you for it, but Kiba did love you. He loved you in the way he knew how.

And he could list it all out for you. He loved your eyes, how bright they were, and especially the way they lit up when you looked at him, like he was the center of your whole world. He loved the smile you got when you would see him for the first time all day. He loved the way you brushed your hair behind your ear when you were nervous and the giggle you gave when you were embarrassed.

Kiba loved how you’d pull him into the grass, tell him the stories you saw in the clouds. Some days you would stay there until the sky was dark and splattered with stars, and then you would tell him the stories they told too.

Kiba did love you, he really did. You were the first, the only girl he’d ever wanted to be in a relationship with. But he didn’t realize just how bad he was at showing it. 

So when you were yelling at him for the millionth time because he forgot another date night he’d sworn he’d plan, he didn’t get how upset you were, thought you were overreacting. You guys spent plenty of time together; why did this specific instance matter?

He was taken off guard, absolutely blown away, when you’d broken up with him. He hadn’t even bothered trying to argue with it because there was no way you were serious, right? He’d laughed, told you “sure thing,” and gone back home waiting for you to show up at his door.

He waited for a week before he’d realized you weren’t coming. 

And he couldn’t understand it, thought you were overreacting, and he was so pissed. Kiba wasn’t emotionally mature enough to realize what he was feeling wasn’t anger; it was actually heartbreak. So he’d gone out, gotten drunk, and went home with the first person that was willing.

Except they didn’t go home. Kiba took Ino right there in the alley outside the bar. Enough privacy that not everyone would see, but public enough that at least someone would see, and surely word would get back to you. 

Thinking about it now, he could see why that was so stupid. He’d only wanted to make you jealous, hadn’t even considered that it may leave your heart shattered. But he got it now. He understood very well how horrible you must’ve felt, because he felt it now, watching you with gyoza boy.

So maybe it was a little creepy--okay, a lot creepy--but he followed you and your boyfriend around when he saw the two of you out and about. You’d gone right from Kiba’s house to his, he guessed. Fine, let’s see what a good boyfriend he is then.

And Kiba could see it, all the things that this new guy did that he never had. You always had this bag you carried around with you no matter where you were, almost instinctively. It’d always annoyed Kiba for really no reason at all. But gyoza boy was carrying that bag for you, had it slung over his own shoulder as he held your hand.

Kiba had never really held your hand much. It’s not like he didn’t like it; it just didn’t cross his mind usually, and he didn’t really think it was that big of a deal. Gyoza boy not only held your hand, but he spun you around as you walked, not carrying how silly it looked. Kiba always cared.

He saw the way you laughed, how happy you appeared to be. When you talked, your boyfriend leaned into you, eyes locked on yours. It was clear that you had  his full, undivided attention. 

And really, those things were so small, but it was all you’d ever wanted. The little things, like having fun in public and those touches of affection and for someone, for Kiba, to just make you feel important. Nothing felt worse than being taken for granted by the person you loved the most.

Kiba realized just how neglectful he’d been.

~ “Kiba? Again?” Ino asked with a sly smile, leaning against her doorway. Kiba shook his head, rolling his eyes. “No, Ino. It’s not that. I need your help…”

~

Weeks had gone by since your mistaken hookup with Kiba. You’d beaten yourself up for that constantly. You’d felt like you had the upper hand when you broke up with him, but you gave the power right back to him when you let him in your pants knowing you had a boyfriend at home.

You’d broken up with “gyoza boy” just a a week after the hookup. The guilt from cheating on him with Kiba had been eating you alive, and besides that, there just wasn’t that spark. He was such a nice, sweet guy, but you didn’t feel anything when you were with him. Not like you did with Kiba. With him, you felt everything.

And speaking of Kiba, you were about to walk right past him. You definitely weren’t ready for that interaction. You steeled yourself, preparing for some snide comment or jab at you. You weren’t ready when Kiba stopped, smiling at you and asking you how you were.

“I’m fine…” You blinked, surprised.

“That’s good. It’s been a long time…” Kiba was being polite, making small talk, and it threw you.  You nodded awkwardly. “But, I’ve been meaning to tell you,” He continued. “There’s a few more things you left at my house. If you wanted to come get them…”

You gritted your teeth, rolling your eyes. Of course. You should’ve known. “I’m busy right now,” you practically snapped. “I’ll stop by later. But my clothes will be staying on.”

When you did finally make your way to Kiba’s later that evening, it was with extreme reluctance. You were certain that all Kiba wanted was another excuse to try and get you into bed. You were going to do your absolute best to not engage any of his antics or let him get to you and end up like last time.

You knocked on the door, crossing your arms, preparing for a shirtless, or even just a boxer clad Kiba to open the door. Instead, he opened it wearing exactly what you’d seen him wearing earlier in the day. He was fully clothed, didn’t have that arrogant smirk on his face, and was opening the door to let you in rather than staring at you like a piece of meat. You didn’t think your guard had ever been up so high. Eyeing Kiba suspiciously, you stepped by him, entering the house and going to the table where a small box was. Shifting through it, they were all little things you definitely hadn’t been missing. A couple hair ties, a few bobbypins, even a sock without it’s match.

You couldn’t help but scowl. This wasn’t anything you needed. Kiba must’ve been luring you here to sleep with you again just like you thought.

You turned on him, shoving the box across the table. “Seriously, Kiba?” You glowered. “What the fuck would I want any of this for? You could’ve just tossed it. I’m leaving.” As you moved to push past him, Kiba saying your name made you stop. It was unwillingly, like your body was on autopilot, responding to his name instinctively. You couldn’t help but groan to yourself as you turned to glare at him. “What?” You snapped.

Kiba turned then, going to the counter and reaching behind it before pulling out a painting. He held it sheepishly in front of him for you to see.

It was two small figures, laying in the grass looking up at the blue sky with white clouds painted against the backdrop. In all honesty, it looked like something a child would have made, but you were pretty sure by the red on Kiba’s cheeks that he’d done it. “What is it?” You asked him.

“A story.” Kiba replied, moving closer. “It’s in the clouds, ya see? A story about a guy who was a complete idiot and who lost the girl that he really loved, and how it took losing her to see how dumb he really was.” He pointed to the clouds which looked like blobs instead of cohesive shapes, but you knew what he meant. You always used to tell him stories, random things you made up when looking at the sky. It was one of the only times you ever thought Kiba was really listening to you.

Setting the picture down, Kiba stepped closer to you. “It’s a present… I just wanted to give it to you to say I’m sorry… I’ve been thinking a lot since the last time we saw each other, and I realized that you were right. I was a really bad guy to you, and you deserved better.”

Despite how skeptical you may have been under usual circumstances, you could see right away that Kiba was being serious. There was no facade or part he was playing. He was being open and honest with you, and you were taken aback by his gesture. He’d actually painted you a picture of one of your favorite things to do with him. It was one of the sweetest gestures you’d ever received.

“You made this for me?” You whispered.

“You don’t gotta believe me…” Kiba continued, rubbing the back of his neck. “But you deserved an apology. You were always so good to me, and I really loved you for that.. But I also realized I took you for granted. It’s my biggest regret. I never wanted to lose you, but I know that you deserve to have a guy that spoils you and loves you in ways you can feel it.”

Your heart was fluttering as you felt heat rising to your cheeks. Where was all this coming from? All you’d ever wanted from Kiba was for him to say something like this, to put in some effort and show he cared.

“What… what made you realize all of this?”

Kiba paused for a second, blushing before finally answering. “After you put me in my place last time, Ino told me I wasn’t boyfriend material… It was all pretty humbling, not gonna lie.” He gave a small snicker. “I really got my ass handed to me. Then later that day, I saw you with gyoza boy and how happy you were… It really put everything into perspective. I’m glad you’re happy with him, though. I hope he treats you better than I did…  But it made me want to change. The past few weeks, Ino has basically been pointing out every single flaw I have for me to fix.” He shrugged. “It’s been rough. I knew I had one or two, but turns out I have a lot.” You’d never seen Kiba so earnest and vulnerable before. You felt yourself getting hopeful, even though you weren’t sure for what. “Actually…” You admitted, meeting his gaze. “I broke up with gyoza boy a few weeks ago.”

That took Kiba off guard. His eyes widened considerably as he spluttered all over his words. “O-oh, you did? T-that’s… That’s too bad. I’m sorry to hear that.”

The laugh came out of you before you could stop it. “No you’re not,” You told him, giving him a knowing smile. He returned it with a big grin. “I’m not…” He admitted. “But I do just want you to be happy.”

There was a pause that lingered between the two of you. The hope began to bubble in your stomach, rising up and squeezing your heart. You wanted to be happy, too, but you wanted to be happy with Kiba. You loved him too, as much as you tried to hide it. And now, you thought that maybe, just maybe, he was ready to be the person you always knew he could be.

He opened his mouth to speak again, but you grabbed his shirt, pulling him down into a kiss. He made a noise of surprise before finally relaxing into it, kissing you back softly. His hand went to the small of your back, pulling you closer.

Then suddenly, he was pulling back, staring down at you with a conflicted expression. “Wait, are you sure?” He asked you. “I don’t want to rush anything, ya know, or mess things up…” 

A small smile played on your lips. He really was changing. “I want to be with you, Kiba. That is… If you still want to be with me?”

Kiba grinned. “So you’re giving me a second chance?” In response, you kissed him again, this time more earnestly than the last. You melted into him easily, everything about him familiar. One of Kiba’s hands was cupping your cheek as his tongue slid across your bottom lip.

Without breaking the kiss, you began to back him up, wanting to go to his room. “Wait,” Kiba was mumbling against your lips, causing you to just hum in response. “We don’t have to do anything,” He tried again. 

The two of you were in his room by now. You finally pulled away,  breathing heavy. “I want to,” You told him, staring up at him with wide, lusting eyes.

Kiba paused, wanting to be sure you were sure. Then he smiled, pulling you into him again. You made a move to pull off your shirt, but he stopped you. “I got this, baby.” He murmured against your neck, laying you down on his bed. 

Kiba continued to lay soft, open mouth kisses as he hovered over you, his hands running down your sides before moving back up, slipping up under your shirt. You shivered feeling the cold of his hands as he began to nip and suck at your skin.

He broke the kiss to pull at the hem of your shirt, peeling it slowly from your body. With it tossed aside, he reattached his lips to your neck, kissing agonizingly slow down to your collarbone. “Kiba,” You whined, your hands going to fumble with the buttons on his pants.

“Not uh, baby girl…” Kiba smirked, taking your hands and pinning them above your head with one of his. “‘Mma take care of you.” The way he breathed the words against your skin made you tremble.

With his free hand, he reached under you to unhook your bra. He released his hold on your hands to pull the fabric from your body before pinning you down again. Kiba kissed lower until he got to your breasts.

His tongue traced over your nipple lightly, making your back arch. You could feel his prideful smile against your skin. His free hand began to massage your breast as he took the entire nipple in his mouth, sucking as he let his tongue flick over the nipple again and again before switching to the other one.

Your mouth was hanging open as you shook with anticipation, your pussy already wet and throbbing. Kiba released your breast before settling between your legs, grinding against your heat as he kissed you fiercely. 

His tongue moved against yours as you felt him hard and dragging against you. There wasn’t enough friction, too much fabric between the two of you. You needed it gone. “Kiba, please,” You whined against his mouth. He broke the kiss, trailing his lips down your body, moving down your stomach to your hips. You tried to arch into his touch, but he had your hips pinned.

Unbuttoning your pants, he drug them slowly down your legs, pulling them off and discarding them to the side. His lips skipped past your aching arousal to your inner thighs. He was more rough this time, nipping and sucking harsh bruises into the sensitive skin.

Finally, after an agonizing time of him teasing and kissing anywhere but your covered cunt, he sipped his fingers under the band of your panties, pulling them down to expose your sex.

“You want me, darling?” Kiba askes, kissing at your thighs one last time. You nodded furiously. 

“Please!” You begged. Kiba didn’t waste time after that, pressing two fingers into your dripping cunt, causing you to cry out. He began to pump them steadily as you writhed and moaned underneath him.

His tongue lapped around his fingers before licking your clit with harsh, quick motions. His fingers curled inside of you in time with his licks, leaving you breathless and shaking.

“Kiba, Kiba, Kiba….” You chanted his name like a prayers, begging and pleading for him. 

“Nuh uh. Not until you cum around my fingers…” Kiba taunted, increasing his motions. He lapped at your clint incessantly, his fingers pressing deeper and deeper. The pleasure in you continued to build until you were clenching and cumming around him, screaming his name. 

“You’re so greedy, sweetheart. Your cunts sucking my fingers back inside you.” He laughed softly as he continued his actions, taking his time with you. It was all overwhelming in the best way.

You were almost limp by the time he was pressing inside of you, sliding slow and easy into your dripping pussy. Fully sheathed, he leaned over you, kissing you gently as he rocked himself into you. It was different than his normal, rough pace that he usually set, but it had your head reeling all the same. 

When he had one of your legs over his shoulder, his cock touching parts of you even deeper than your fingers could touch, he pressed kisses into your calves.

“Fuck, you feel so good baby. I love the way you clench around me, pulling me inside you. You don’t want to let my cock go, do you sweetheart? You like being fucked like this, don’t you? Slowly, having to wait for me to give it to you even when you want me to pound you into the bed.”

It was agonizing, the pace he set. It had you coming undone in ways you never had before. Rather than the constant, almost painful overstimulating orgasms you were used to with Kiba, there was only this one, building up steadily and so intense it had you seeing stars. Your vision went white as the coil in your stomach finally unraveled, and you were cuming, cuming so hard you almost arched off Kiba’s cock with a sob.

“There’s my girl,” Kiba mumbled into your neck as your felt his hips start to smack into yours more erratically until he was spilling inside of you, calling your name as his hips continued to jolt into yours as he chased his high. “Fuck,” he breathed, kissing gently down your shoulder.

You were still speechless, the world spinning around you. All you could do was smile up at him, fucked out of your mind. 

“I love you,” Kiba chuckled, pressing a kiss into your lips. “Now, what were you saying about me not knowing how to make a girl feel really good?”

[shirophantomvox]

Leorio, Hisoka, Illumi, and Chrollo Head Canons #2

What’s up y’all! Thank you so much to the people who have given me feedback about what posts you all would like to see! This post will be about the “Adult Trio” and Leorio about how they would help their significant other with a subject in college. This one is a good suggestion! I’m going to incorporate fluff in this, as I am a sucker for fluff. I hope you all enjoy this! I most certainly do. This post is about 2687 words but don't worry, it's worth the read! These head canons came from my mind its a coincidence that some of these pictures match the thoughts. Portentous (old English) means wonderful or marvelous (in modern English) FYI: I am thinking about creating a discord server for both Voltron and Hunter x Hunter fans. I don’t know how to use the fancy perks of discord yet, so if you know how to and can help me out, send me a message! Alright, let’s get to it! Obviously these images are from Pinterest.

Discord Server for Voltron and HxH fans!

Leorio

“Mr. Leorio”, as we all know, is a sharp guy. He dresses in a suit, carries a suitcase, and wants to be a doctor. This man knows everything about academics, especially math and science. He will need to know these subjects to be a successful medical doctor.

Leorio received an A- in Calculus II and a B+ in Organic Chemistry. He was the only one that passed with flying colors while everyone else barely made it. He didn’t gloat in their faces but as soon as he got into the hallway he jumped for joy.

He was extremely happy about his progress and counted the days until graduation even though that was in 5 years. Wow! Don’t we love graduate school?!

He deserved the high grades because he spent countless nights studying missing parties, football games, and being with you just to make sure he was on the right track to graduating on time.

As we all know, Leorio wanted to pursue this career because he witnessed his best friend dying in front of him powerless to save him. The care for his friend would have been too expensive. Obtaining his degree was in honor of his friend; he’d save countless children, women, and men who’d all thank him for his hard work.

Leorio didn’t socialize much, but he did find himself hanging around a group of classmates that were a part of a co-ed fraternity that provided information on scholarship money for graduate school and job opportunities. This is where he met you. You didn’t want to be a doctor but instead wanted to be a computer scientist and decided to volunteer for this fraternity job fair.

As he rejoiced, his smile faded when he saw you walking down the hallway; tears falling from your face not caring who stared at you. He quickly walked up to you, put his arm around your back, and gave you a soft hug.

“What’s the matter,” he asks.

You were failing Calculus, a class you’ve been taking since the 12th grade but for some reason, you couldn’t pass it. Everyone else had A’s and B’s, while you had a D. D’s aren't accaetable in college; most make you retake the class.

“Don’t worry. I’ve just passed my midterm. I can help you study. You’ll pass; trust me.”

Later on that evening, he kept his promise but gave it a unique twist. He kept the lights off and lit 4 Yankee-sized candles in the room that smelled like Lavender. In the background, he had piano jazz playing on his speaker. You felt confused for a moment. You and Leorio weren’t necessarily dating but you both flirted with each other here and there. He wasn’t a social butterfly, but he felt comfortable talking to you.

“Um...what’s the music for?”

“It helps me concentrate. Believe it or not, it helps my brain flow. You like it don’t you?”

“No, actually I don’t.” Truth be told you loved it but you wanted to pull his strings a little. He looked up with a confused look.

“Ok. I’ll turn it off.”

“I'm kidding! It’s great!”

Whenever he cannot solve a Calculus question, he reviews similar problems from Algebra II. He applies this knowledge to your problem.

“Perform the indicated function evaluations for f(x)=3−5x−2x^2 . I’ll solve the first part for an example: f(6+t) simply means you will exchange “x” for 6+t. It will look like f(6+t)=3-5(6+t)-2(6+t)^2=-49 . You’d distribute -5 and -2 to the numbers inside of the brackets in which they are next to.”

Wow, that was easy! Wait, not he must think you’re stupid.

“You must think I’m stupid, don’t you?”

“Of course not! It took me a while to understand it too. You’ll apply the same knowledge for the rest.”

After what seemed like 4 hours (which was 2), you finally finished your homework! It was probably wrong but at least you made it past the 1st question! As you blew out the candles and turned on your LED lights instead, you see Leorio sleeping on your couch. Something about his soft face made you smile and place your hand over your heart.

“My little doctor,” you whispered to yourself.

“Well, come give this doctor some company then. I’m freezing over here!”

The throw blanket was large enough for you both. Snuggling on the couch was a great end to a stressful day.

Chrollo

To everyone else Chrollo was “Boss” or “Boss Man” but to you, he was Chrollo. Big C was known for his love for poetry and language.

He read poetry any chance he had at lunch and even dinner. It had gotten so bad that you had to tell him for the millionth time “No books at the table!”

Given his past, he always read at least 2 hours a day or one book a week. Reading is what got him through the day.

He was staying in your dorm for the day to relax because he had taken and passed his midterms to. The young thief thought about hiding in the closet but he didn’t because he sensed that you’d be tense because of midterms.

As you walked through the door, you looked angry, so angry that you could punch a wall. He immediately rose to his feet, threw his arms straight out in front of him, and motioned for you to stop. You just stared at him blankly.

“Come here,” he said like you, on cue, melted in his arms. He was warm and the deepness of his cooing voice vibrated against your neck. “What’s the problem?”

“I’m failing this stupid Shakespeare class!”

“Really?”

“Yes and if I don’t pass this midterm I’m going to fail the class for the 3rd time. I want to drop out! Who needs this scam anyway?!”

Chrollo held you a bit longer until you were ready to sit down and get to business. You pulled out your college’s book about Shakespeare plays and how he used Old English. Chrollo was the perfect man for the job! He’s read Macbeth and Romeo and Juliet several times!

Chrollo read a few stanzas and explained them. He then had you read some on your own and explain them...still you can’t.

He notices the problem immediately. He catches you snuggling comfortably against his toned arm, nearly falling asleep.

Chrollo laid at the very corner of the couch as you lay horizontally placing your head against his chest. You were comfortable but you weren’t able to focus. He notices this and slightly demands that you go sit at the table. When it came to academics, he was serious.

For as long as he had been reading, he has an arsenal of vocabulary words ready to be of use. He created flashcards for you and had you flip them over for nearly an hour. You start to memorize the words!

But you’re not done yet.

“Say the word ‘portentous’.”

“Por-ten-trious…?”

“No. Por-ten-tas.”

“Tias…?”

He moved his chair next to you, just an inch away from your face. He cups your mouth and moves it as he speaks again. This wasn’t a hard clutch, it was soft and he wasn’t irritated but he could sense that you were becoming irritated.

“Por-ten-tas,” he said again.

Instead of letting your cheeks go, his eyes diverted to your lips. They were moist and plump, ready to be met by his.

“Your lips are gorgeous. Kisseth me quite quaint.”

Oh no. Look at the monster you’ve created.

Chrollo created a reward system. Whenever he did things right as a child, he was rewarded with money and jewels. For every word you pronounced and defined correctly, he kissed you once. For each word you got correct in a row, he’d kiss you twice.

Soon enough he had kissed you so much that you couldn’t see straight!

The kisses worked because you passed your midterm! Each kiss placed a stain in your brain that made you remember the definition and how to pronounce it.

You and Chrollo celebrated by drinking champagne and listened to him read Sonnet 23 and 57.

Hisoka

As unusual as it seems, Hisoka is gifted when it comes to Chemistry specifically. That is why you two work well together...there is some chemistry going on between you two.

His hair down and his glasses were his alter ego, it was something that made him act completely different than what you were used to.

When you all were freshmen, he would skip class, attend parties, and would be hungover almost every week but once he was called into the Dean’s office, he changed.

You slightly missed that edgy side of him, but you enjoyed having a serious beau.

Hisoka is a social butterfly and is the life of the conversation and you loved him for it but sometimes it was awkward.

While he was chatting away about Calcium (Ca) and Iron (Fe), you stood there nodding like an idiot. You had NO IDEA about what he was talking about and that is why you were going to drop your chemistry class.

“I saw an imbecile put aluminum foil in the microwave and it burst into flames. How did they not know that Microwaves are the radio waves falling under frequency around 2500 megahertz? Any metallic object detected by radio waves inside the microwave acts as a reflector of radio waves.”

You shove his arm hard. He was acting arrogant in front of his friends. You were used to this but it got on your nerves. You made mistakes, everyone does!...even those that almost burn down the entire dorm room.

You two leave the party and head to his dorm room. Once you were settled, you released a can of anger and threw it all over your boyfriend.

“Hisoka? You just humiliated me.”

“Oh? No one knows that I was talking about you, my dear.”

“Don’t ‘my dear’ me! I asked for your help and you’re ignoring me. I don’t appreciate that. I didn’t ignore you when you sprained your ankle, did I?”

“No, you didn’t, dear. I supposed I have a few hours to kill. What do you need help with?”

Hisoka’s way of studying was much different from other students. He exercises like crazy before he opens his textbook.

He listens to EDM instrumentals while on the treadmill and when he lifts weights. You weren’t standing there like a trophy, he made you lift too.

“Being healthy will help your brain flow more easily. Lift this dumbbell as heavy as you can.”

He ran a mile on the track upstairs. Sweat dripped from his face like he had been standing outside in the rain.

By the time you returned to his dorm, you were beyond tired. You laid your head on his pillow but just as you closed your eyes, he pulled you up on your feet.”

“Not on my watch,” he tutted. “It’s chemistry time.”

You were having trouble memorizing Chemical Formulas and this by far was the most difficult concept you had come across.

To make you stay awake, he turned on a bright LED light and faced it towards the table. The bright light nearly made your head fall off from the pain it reflected in your eyes.

Hisoka grabbed his book and began to write down the major chemicals on the periodic table and their charges.

“Pay attention to the following abbreviations and charges: Calcium is Ca, Chloride is Cl+2, Carbide is C+2, and Carbon Dioxide is CO+2. Read these over and I’ll test you again.”

He did just that but you still weren’t understanding. You were ready to give up.

Stupid scam. Why do I need a piece of paper to determine what I can do? You thought to yourself. Well, it’s obvious. If you can’t do the work now, what makes you think you can do it at a job? Harsh, I know.

“Let me try this,” He said. He carried you to his bedroom and gently placed you on it. He took off his shirt and removed his glasses. “Aluminum has a charge of +3 and Oxygen has -2. If there were three of me and two of my clones disappeared, how many of me are left?”

“Just you, right? One”

“Correct! Excellent.”

Wow, everything started making sense once he took his shirt off.

From then, he just inserted himself into the equation and then it started to make sense! He apologized for running his mouth earlier and promised to keep any more secrets between you two. The night ended with you sleeping in his bed wrapped in a cotton blanket just cuddling and that was it. And bam! You slept as sound.

Illumi

Dating the “hot” quiet history buff was a flex of its own. Sure Illumi didn’t talk to anyone besides you, but it didn’t matter. People swooned if he looked in their direction.

History was a popular major during your era. People were not like their grandparents; they wanted to learn about other cultures besides their own. Illumi’s specialty was in world history and civilizations. The class was very interesting to you but there was so much information, you could barely process it.

Illumi often wrote his essays in one day proofread and all! He often charged people to look their essays over.

One time he made $500 in one year!

Glancing at your transcripts, he notices that you have a C- and offers to help.

“Why are you looking through my stuff?”

Hey, he’s your boyfriend! But still, he should ask.

“Sorry. It was up on the screen,” he said, throwing his hands in the air.

You began to blush in embarrassment. The hottest smartest man in the building now knew that you were failing one of the easiest classes on campus.

Placing his thumb under your chin, he lifted your head to meet his gaze. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I can help you.”

“How? I am so behind! I zoned out after chapter 2!”

“We’ll watch a movie.”

“Oh, God! Not one from PBS is it?!”

“Yes. How else are you supposed to learn?”

He turns on the movie and allows you to lay your head on his shoulder but not too much. He is aware of your tricks and he wants you to pay attention.

Every 15 minutes, he pauses the movie and asks you checkpoint questions. If you got them wrong, you had to stand up with your underclothes on (t-shirt and shorts) in the cool room for 10 minutes. If you got the questions right, he allows you to lay more comfortably. You were already in your underclothes but you were under the blanket.

He made you write down key definitions and the embarrassment of each section.

After the movie, he blindfolds you and reads out a term. Surprisingly, you got them all correct!

As a reward for your past midterm, he takes you to dinner at a restaurant where he slips a promise ring on your finger containing your birthstone.

[mypoisonedvine]

Home for the Holidays | Robert Pronge (aka Mr. Freezy) x reader

summary: robert is tired of pretending to be normal, he’s tired of the shitty holiday known as christmas and he’s really fucking tired of watching his adorable, innocent next door neighbor without getting a real taste.  luckily, he has a plan to solve all three of these things.

word count: a bit over 5k

warnings: smut (noncon, vaginal and anal), gunplay, bondage, stalking, kidnapping, slight-to-medium breeding kink, innocent!reader, lots of degradation, blood mention, pain kink, spitting, implied age gap (??? kinda), cringy and disturbing dirty talk, maaaaybe the darkest thing I’ve ever written… proceed with extreme caution

Robert hated the holidays.  The fact that it was too cold to sell ice cream was a factor, sure, but he didn’t like anything else about them either— the cheesy music, the stupid advertisements on TV, the gaudy decorations everywhere… he wasn’t sure if there was anything he liked about this time of year.  Getting gifts would be nice if he actually had any friends or family to do that with.  Giving gifts sounded like too much fucking work anyway.  He was sick and tired of this stupid holiday and the way it started sooner every year, too.  

This year, when he heard Jingle Bell Rock on the radio for the first time of the season, something snapped.  He wasn’t going to just sit idly by and let the holidays come and go.  He wasn’t going to avoid and half-tolerate all the dreaded ‘cheer’ and ‘spirit’ like he had for the past few years.  No no, this year was going to be different.

This year, he was going to get a Christmas present for himself: you.

He’d been watching you for a long time, since the day you moved in next door.  It wasn’t often that a young woman lived alone around here, and for good reason.  Still, you had this air of blissful ignorance about you— you never caught him spying on you, for one, and when he was spying you were always off in your own little world, listening to your records, daydreaming about god-knows-what.  He wished he could know, because he figured it was something innocent and wholesome.  

You weren’t all innocent and wholesome, though.  He’d seen you doing the things you did when you were totally alone (or at least, you thought you were), late at night, cuddled up under the covers…

He wanted to see more, though.  He wanted to see everything.  And he was tired of waiting.

He was on his porch when you came home, and he waved; you waved back, your hands obscured by big fuzzy mittens.  Damn did he miss the summers, when you would wear tank tops and short shorts and wash your car in the sunlight.  Now you were all bundled up in coats and scarves, and even though you looked sort of adorable like this, he missed that perfect body he knew you were hiding under there.  

You were bringing groceries in from the car, and he could see you had a few bags in the backseat.  “That’s a lot to carry, lemme help you,” he offered as he jumped up from his seat and walked towards you.

“Oh, it’s fine, I’ve got it,” you dismissed, but you started to stumble and he had to catch you so you wouldn’t fall and drop your stuff.  “Thanks,” you mumbled awkwardly as you caught your footing— you felt so good in his arms he could barely stand it.  

“What is all this?” he asked as he glanced into the bags.

“Oh, uh, just Christmas stuff,” you explained.  He furrowed his brow as he saw you had bought enough food to feed a whole family.  

“Your folks comin’ into town or something?” he pressed, pulling one of the paper bags open to see inside.  “Or are you hosting a party I didn’t get invited to?”

“Uh, neither,” you laughed, “my family doesn’t… no, they’re not coming.  And there’s no party.  I just love cooking Christmas food and I thought, why not?  I mean, I’ll freeze whatever I can’t finish and have meals for the next month…”

“So you’re gonna make this whole ham just for yourself?” he clarified, admiring your ambition.

“Yep!” you grinned.  “I know it’s stupid, but I just love Christmas and I don’t think I need to justify celebrating it to a grinch like you.”

“A grinch?  Says who?”

“Freezy, you’re the only house on the block that hasn’t put up lights yet,” you smirked.  “It’s sort of obvious you don’t like this time of year.”

“Are you kidding?  I love Christmas!  I’m just subtle about it, that’s all,” he decided sternly.

“Really?  Are you going to see anyone for the holidays then?” you pressed.

“Uh, no, I’m sort of an… orphan, I guess you could say.  No parents or siblings or anything like that.”

“No girlfriend?” you grinned, elbowing him playfully.  

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” he laughed, “I just know a few women who would be really mad if they heard me say that.”

“You’re such a dog,” you rolled your eyes.  “Will you help me carry these in or not?”

He sighed as he picked up two bags and carried them up to your porch, pushing the door open with his back to set them on your counters.  He’d been inside your place a few times— mostly with you there, a few times when you weren’t— and he noticed how much you’d changed in the spirit of the season: an enormous, real pine covered in lights and ribbons; decorative ceramic figures all over the place including Santa, elves, reindeer, and even a nativity on the dining table; stockings on the mantle, god knows who those were even for. 

You had literally decked your halls with boughs of holly.  

“Damn, woman, you went all out!” he observed with wide eyes.

“Well, I thought it would be nice,” you smiled, although it was a somber smile, “you know, Christmas like it used to be…” you trailed off as your gaze became distant.  You snapped back to reality with a little sigh, shaking it off and heading back to the car for another load of bags.  He understood that emptiness he saw in your eyes, it was all he felt anymore.  Maybe you could change that for him; maybe he could change that for you.

Aw, who was he kidding?  He didn’t care about that.  He just wanted to figure out what you were hiding underneath those puffy winter clothes.  If the smell of your stolen panties was anything to go by, it was going to be worth the wait.

//

Christmas Eve was just as boring and cold as any other day, except that it was filled with a riveting anticipation.  That was probably true for most people, but for Robert it was for something much more exciting than presents under the tree.  

Nightfall came early, it being winter and all, so it was already pitch dark outside when it was just about time for him to go over for dinner.  He considered smashing a window to get in, but then you might call the cops before he had time to explain, so he decided the easier method was just to knock on the front door.  He didn’t really care who saw at this point— besides, who’d be staring out their window to spy on their neighbors the night before Christmas?  Aside from Robert, that is.

“Oh!” you gasped when you answered the door.  The dark red turtleneck looked even better on you up close, like you’d jumped right out of a Norman Rockwell postcard— or a festive pin-up.  He didn’t wait for your approval before stepping in and shutting the door behind him, relishing the adorable look you wore as you stared up at him with the perfect mix of confusion and concern.

“I know you didn’t invite me,” he smirked, “but I figure two people alone on Christmas ought to be together, don’t you think?”

“Robert, I—”

He pulled his gun out from his belt, watching you freeze as he pointed it at you.

“I think you should start making dinner, sweetheart,” he instructed darkly.  You nodded quickly, walking to the kitchen as he followed you closely.  “What are you making?”

“H-ham,” you stuttered nervously as you turned on the stove before slipping on a cute little apron with white lace around the edges.  “With green bean casserole, and some gingerbread for dessert.”

“Sounds delicious,” he grinned, taking a seat at the bar and keeping his gun pointed towards you.  

Your hands were shaking as you tried to chop the ingredients, and he tutted a little in sympathy.  “Don’t be scared, honey, ‘m not gonna hurt ya.  It’s gonna be a great Christmas— just like the way it used to be, huh?”

“Y-yeah,” you shivered, lip quivering, “I… I wish you just would’ve asked if you could have some dinner, Robert, I would’ve happily had you.”

“Oh, you’re gonna have me either way.  Up to you if you wanna be happy about it.”

He laughed as he watched your eyes start to water, a meek little sniffle 

“Aw, don’t cry, pretty baby,” he cooed, “it’ll make me wanna skip right to the good stuff.  But, let’s just have dinner first.”

You stayed quiet after that, cooking in silence as he unabashedly undressed you with his eyes.  You looked like a perfect little housewife in that apron; he wanted to see you wearing just that, so he could bend you over the counter and— 

Damn, he was already hard, just like that.  You’d always had such an effect on him.

He went ahead and took a seat at the table once you were nearly done with the meal, leaning back to let you drape the fancy napkin over his lap (and smirking when you gasped a bit, obviously noticing the bulge in his jeans).

“I hope you like it,” you offered weakly as you set his plate in front of him.

“I’m sure you do,” he grinned, picking up his fork.  “You won’t like what’s gonna happen if I don’t.”

You just stood beside him for a moment as he took the first bite, smiling weakly when he hummed in content at the taste.  “Aren’t ya gonna eat?” he asked, looking you up and down.

“I’m not hungry,” you explained quickly.

“Suit yourself,” he shrugged, “it’s good.  You’re quite the little chef, aren’t ya?”

“Um, I suppose…” you deflected awkwardly.

“Learn to take a compliment,” he hissed, “say ‘thank you.’”

“Thank you,” you replied dutifully.  

“That’s better,” he announced firmly, shovelling the last bite of casserole into his mouth before working on the slices of ham.  Your ability to follow instructions was a good sign for how tonight was going to go— apparently for all your naivete, you still had a self-preservation instinct.  He couldn’t wait to exploit it.

He continued his meal in silence, delighting in the way your eyes watered and your lip quivered.  “Alright, sweetie, dinner’s over,” he announced when he was finished.  “Time for dessert.”

You shivered slightly as he stood up and approached you.  “You want gingerbread?” you asked innocently.  He frowned and shook his head, watching you start to cry again as he roughly grabbed your arm and pulled you closer.  

“I had something even sweeter in mind,” he informed you with a low growl, taking a big whiff of your scent— that same shampoo smell he was used to by now, mixed in with the new perfume you’d gotten a few weeks ago along with the warm, spicy smells of Christmas.  “Been waitin’ so long for this,” he groaned lowly as he leaned down to stare right into your fear-widened eyes.

“N-no, please,” you whimpered, weakly attempting to twist out of his grip, “you wouldn’t—”

“I would,” he disagreed as he turned his gun backwards, whipping you across the head with the handle.  He caught you before you collapsed, and hoped you wouldn’t be hurting too much when you woke up.  But he would deal with that then.  Right now, he had a present to wrap.

//

There was a radiating ache in your skull.  You felt that first as you groggily opened your eyes.  The next thing you noticed was that you weren’t in your bed.  Looking around, you couldn’t see well because the only light was from your Christmas tree, but you could see that you were naked and bound with ropes.  Oddly enough, on top of the ropes was thick red ribbon, gathered in a big bow right at your chest.

What the fuck is going on? you were about to ask yourself, but then it all became clear.

The shadows shifted, and your neighbor emerged from them.  You struggled against the ropes as you remembered everything, realizing what was happening.  Of course you had always thought he was a bit creepy (who didn’t?) but you were nice to him and he was nice to you.  How could you have known he was this disturbed?  

“That’s my favorite part,” he purred as he stooped down to be eye-level with you.  “The moment when they realize what’s going to happen.  You were so peaceful just a moment ago, knocked out and without a care in the world, and now you’re fighting for your life.”

You whimpered into the gag as he smiled at you, running his hands over your skin.

“I mean, not fighting very well, but fighting.”

You tried to kick him as he stepped closer but the ropes made it impossible.

“I think it’s time to open my present, hm?” he grinned.  You shook your head but he ignored you, slowly pushing your legs apart and growling a little when he saw your exposed pussy, ripe for the taking.  “Look at that, you’re wet,” he laughed.  You wrenched your eyes shut, refusing to believe this was happening.  “Don’t be embarrassed, that happens a lot.  Although I’ll admit, I don’t think any of them were ever this wet before…”

You jumped when his thumb started to rub your clit, the pressure much too intense and unexpected.  He laughed at your struggle, and you could feel your walls throbbing in response to the stimulation.

“I know I didn’t need to do all this to get you in bed,” he continued his taunting rant.  “I know you wanted me already— don’t think I didn’t notice you makin’ googly eyes at me like a dumb little schoolgirl.  If I’d’ve asked you out, I could’ve had you under me after a few drinks… but it’s better this way.  You probably would’ve made me wear a condom, would’ve made me be all gentle with ya, some wholesome missionary shit,” he laughed.  “I don’t have time for that crap.  It’s so much better with your body at my disposal, and you cryin’ those pretty tears.”

The shocks that shot up your spine from the way he was touching you made you feel like your body was betraying you.  How could this actually feel good?  How was it that the fear burning in your gut was actually adding to your pleasure and not nullifying it?

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he groaned as if he were reading your mind.  “I know you love it, little girl, don’t act so innocent.  I know you’re not the good girl everybody thinks you are.  You’ve been naughty this year, haven’t you?”

Even though logic told you not to play into his twisted game, you felt compelled to shake your head ‘no.’

“Don’t lie,” he warned, “I’ve seen you.  I’ve watched you play with this pretty pussy every fucking night.”

You couldn’t watch this any more, you couldn’t look at him while he did this to you.  Forcing your eyes shut, you tried to find a place in your mind to run away to.  Instead, he slapped you right on your clit and your eyes shot open as you whined.

“Keep looking,” he instructed.  “I want you to see it.  I want you to know that it’s me.  I want you to see what I’m about to put in you.”

He stepped back and hastily discarded his shirt, making quick work of his boots and trousers, too.  Then it was just his boxers, and you could see the outline of his erection already.  You hoped it wasn’t as big as it looked, but then he grinned as he pulled the fabric down and yep, it was— you tried to squirm away, uselessly.

“Aw, don’t be scared, baby,” he pouted, “I know it’s big, but with how wet you are I bet it’ll fit like a glove.  A really, really tight glove…”

He leaned down and pressed his lips right against your ear, rubbing his swollen head through your slick folds as you whined.  

“Gloves can tear,” he chuckled.  “Gloves can rip.”

Tears stained the ribbon of your gag as you tried to beg him not to, but it was too late— he was pushing forward and spearing you onto him.

“Fuck!” he groaned as he pushed all the way to the hilt, and your eyes rolled back as the stinging, burning pain shot up your spine.  “So fuckin’ tight, fuck, can’t believe I waited this long to get my hands on you.”

He pulled the gag down, smiling at you tenderly when you coughed out a cry of pain.  “Please,” you sobbed, “please stop…”

“No no, babygirl, I’m not gonna stop.  I wanna fill this slutty little cunt with my come.”

Renewed sobs shook your chest as your nails dug into your own palms, each thrust somehow going even deeper than the last, somehow hurting even more.

“Want my come, pretty girl?” he pressed, refusing to let you ignore him.  “Want me to shoot my load into this sweet pussy a’yours?”

“No,” you sobbed weakly, shaking your head, “no, no…” you trailed off, chanting it like a mantra as you felt like you might pass out.

“Aw, you’re not on the pill, are you?” he realized with a toothy grin.  “Never saw any empty packs in your trash.  Are you worried I’ll knock you up?”

“Please, please don’t,” you shivered.  There was nothing quite as demeaning as having no recourse but to beg even when you knew it would do nothing.  The only thing that came close was the knowledge that your orgasm wasn’t so far off— his cock was slamming right into your spot with every movement, his hips rubbing your swollen clit, and it was impossible to avoid the pleasure that was making your walls tighten around him.

“How could I not?” he countered.  “Fuck, you feel so good, how could I not breed this dripping, desperate cunt, hm?  There’s no way I’m pulling out now when you’re squeezin’ my dick so good like this.”

“Please,” you repeated, so quiet you couldn’t be sure he heard it at all.  You could hardly breathe with his weight on your chest, black static dancing at the edges of your peripheral vision.

“I’ll be honest— I hate kids,” he growled, “never wanted ‘em, but it does sound like a lot of fun to get you pregnant.  Would you like that, pretty baby?  Bein’ full of my kid?  I’d be so nice to watch you get big and know it was all my fault.  Think of it like a Christmas gift, from one neighbor to another.”

“Robert, please!” you cried, although it sounded a lot like you were begging him for more as opposed to begging him for mercy.  You weren’t sure how that happened, except that you could feel the coil in your gut tightening and tightening and tightening until it finally fucking snapped and you choked on nothing, your walls fluttering as a gush of wetness seeped out between your bodies.

“That’s it,” he groaned, “fuck, what a nasty little skank you are, Jesus… coming so hard from being tied up and abused by your neighbor, who knew you were a total freak?”

You couldn’t say anything, you couldn’t even think as hazy pleasure flooded your brain and you went limp in his oppressive grasp.  Exhaustedly, you slumped down and let him use you— all you could do now was hope he would finish soon.

“I mean, I knew,” he laughed, “but damn… you’re somethin’ else.”

He said it with pride in his voice, as your entire body burned with shame.  How had you already given in so quickly, accepted your fate and come harder than you ever had before?  It sort of made sense that this would be more intense than what you got from getting yourself off at night (and the thought that he’d been watching you made your stomach churn), but why was this so much better than the sweet, loving sex you’d had with your boyfriend way back when, before he’d run out on you?  Why was Robert, as disturbed as he was, the best you’d ever had?

“God, you’re so wet, I can fucking smell you,” he grunted through his teeth.  “You made such a pretty mess on my cock, babygirl.”

You could hear that he was right, you could feel the wetness that had dripped down to cover both of you— the wet slapping of his balls against your ass was disgusting, yet arousing, and you hated yourself for it.

“Shit, I’m close,” he moaned, “fuck yeah, just like that.”

You weren’t sure what he was referring to until you realized you were arching your back, forcing his cock to hit your overstimulated spot directly.  It made jolts of electricity course through your veins, pleasure sizzling just beneath your skin.  

“Kiss me,” he instructed, and you were too far gone to disobey as you turned and captured his lips in a kiss, instantly accepting his tongue into your mouth.  It was sloppy and forceful and kinda gross and he tasted like Christmas dinner and cigarettes, but it made your walls tighten around him again anyways.  Something about his beard against your face made you moan a little, the sound lost into his mouth but unfortunately not unnoticed.  “Fuck, I know you love my cock so much,” he purred, pulling back only as much as he needed to to speak— he was so close that his lips brushed yours with every word, those dark eyes staring right into yours until you felt entirely helpless to his gaze.

“Please,” you whimpered, not even sure what you were asking for.

“Best pussy I’ve ever had, you know that?” he praised, grinning as you bit down on your lip.  “Yeah, you love being my good girl, you love pleasin’ me, don’tcha?”

“I— I don’t—”

“Just nod your head, dumb baby,” he grunted coldly.  After a moment of hesitation, you nodded ever so slightly and he moaned above you.

“Fuck— gonna come,” he informed you breathlessly, “gonna fill up your wet fuckin’ hole, ‘m so close, ah fuck—”

The first pump of his cock painted your insides and you cringed as you tried not to moan at the feeling.  His come was hot and thick as it filled you, the faltering thrusts of his hips making your swollen walls flutter weakly.  It felt like it would go on forever— his weak groans in your ear, his thick cock pulsing inside you, your breathing quick and fast until it felt like you weren’t getting any air in your lungs at all.  It stopped, finally, as he sighed and relaxed a little bit.

“Goddamn,” he breathed as he pulled out of you, making you both wince.  Already you felt soreness radiating from your opening, and your face burned as he looked down between your legs.  “Look at that, what a perfect little pussy I just ruined.  It’s all stretched out and red and covered in my come,” he announced proudly.  “There’s a little blood, too, but you’ll be better in no time,” he assured with a smirk.  “Red and white— it’s sort of festive, don’t you think?”

You swallowed down the acid threatening to come up your throat— of course he was disturbed, but did he have to be so disgusting?

Again, it was like he read your mind as he grabbed your jaw and forced you to open your mouth, spitting onto your tongue before commanding you to swallow it.  Just when you thought you’d reached the limits of his depravity, he found some new way to up the ante.  What worried you most, though, was the fact that he’d already come and hadn’t left yet.  Deep down, you knew it wasn’t over yet, but you hadn’t accepted it consciously.

“Such a good slut for me,” he praised through his teeth, “I bet I can go again, fuck, you turn me on so much.”  Pulling back a bit and gripping his cock at the base, you squirmed a little as you looked at it.  “You see this?  I’m still hard.  You make me feel like a fuckin’ teenager again, I swear.”

“I can’t…” you sighed weakly, your voice sounding all cracked and whiny as it moved through your sore throat.  “I can’t take it again…”

“Don’t worry,” he soothed, “I’m gonna give your poor cunt a break… so I can rape this cute little ass.”

“No!” you yelped.  “Please!  Not there!”

He slapped you quickly before maneuvering two fingers to your other hole, teasing it as he laughed at your pre-emptive wince.

“It’s not gonna be so bad, baby, I’m gonna get you ready for it first, see?  I bet you’ll love it, nasty little thing like you.”

The first finger slipped in with a little pop as the tight ring of muscle shifted to accommodate him.  You’d never had anything go up that way before, and it was nothing like you could’ve imagined.  Hissing in a breath through your teeth, you whimpered as he added a second finger already.

“Just relax,” he instructed.  “Not that I don’t love you gripping my fingers with your tight little hole, but it’ll hurt less if you just let it happen.”

You willed your muscles not to tighten even as he twisted his fingers inside you, moving slowly until he was buried all the way to the knuckle and then finally pulling back.  The third was a bit more of a challenge as he opened you wider, your fists clenching at the sting of pain.  He let his come drip down from your pussy to use as lube, which was undoubtedly the filthiest thing you’d ever experienced.  You tried to keep quiet and relax as he told you to, but your fight was renewed slightly as he pulled his fingers out and lined up his cock with your hole.  

“Please,” you shivered, “don’t do this…”

“When are you gonna stop fucking fighting it, huh?  How stupid are you?  You’re tied up on the floor, I already made this pussy mine and you fucking loved it, how much more obvious could it be that I’m gonna do this?  You’re fucked.  It’s over.  Just accept it and I’ll make it good for you.”

“This can’t be good for me,” you hissed through your teeth.

“Well, in that case,” he groaned, interrupting himself as he roughly shoved his cock into your ass.  The air was punched from your lungs as pain burned white-hot through your body— it didn’t feel like his fingers had done much to prepare you at all, with the way this hurt.  As soon as you had the oxygen needed to do so, you were crying again, loud sobs echoing around your dark, empty living room.  “I was gonna be gentle,” he taunted you darkly, “but you had to run that mouth of yours.”

You tried to choke out an apology, but it was useless as he shoved his fingers into your mouth. 

“Suck on ‘em, show me what your mouth is good for,” he demanded as you closed your lips and swirled your tongue around his fingers.  “Fuck, that’s better.  See how good it is when you know your place?”

You couldn’t really process his words, though, as you spent all your energy on trying not to think about how his cock felt in your ass.  It was like being full in a completely different way than before, like being opened wider than you knew was possible.  He pulled his fingers from your mouth and you hated the moan that spilled out after them.

“Your cunt is getting wet,” he sing-songed mockingly as he leaned back and looked down at it.  “You love it up the ass, huh?  Dirty bitch.”

You shook your head in denial (even though you could feel that he was right, at least about the first part), but he grabbed your jaw and forced you to look at him.

“Say it,” he grunted.  “Admit it, slut.  Admit you love getting fucked up the ass.”

“I…” you whimpered, barely able to get the words out even though you knew you needed to if you wanted to prevent him from hurting you worse.  “I love… getting fucked—” you stopped to swallow the lump in your throat— “up the ass.”

He backhanded you, hard, right across the face.  You cried and gasped all at once, choking on air from the force of the hit.  “WHORE!” he yelled right in your face.

You sobbed uncontrollably as he fucked you with more brutality than you’d known was possible.  “Please,” you tried to beg, even if you knew it was useless, but it was totally incomprehensible as you shook with the force of your cries, hissing in breaths through your teeth to try to cope with the pain.

“Thought it would take me a while to come again, but your ass feels so goddamn good— fuck, I’m close already.  Want me to fill up that tight little ass?”

You shook your head as you sobbed, shaking violently against the confines of the ropes.  Distantly, you heard the chimes of your clock in the other room.

“You hear that?” he whispered.  “That means it’s midnight— it’s Christmas.”

He leaned in until his hot breath tickled your ear and neck, making you wish you could turn your head away more than just a few centimeters.

“Merry fucking Christmas,” he purred, just as you felt his cock swell and pulse inside you.  Your eyes rolled back as you wondered if you’d ever been so full before.

It was a haze after that as he gently untied you, getting his gun out again and keeping it trained on you as he followed you to the bathroom and forced you to shower.  Force was a bit of an overstatement, though, considering your desire to clean him off of you as much as possible.  “I’m not gonna tell anyone, Robert,” you tried to calm him down as you shivered under the stream of water that hadn’t quite warmed up yet.

“Yeah, well, just in case,” he insisted as he waved the gun pointed in your direction.  “Wash between your legs real good, push my come out.”

“Not gonna matter if you knocked me up like you said,” you reminded him.  “A paternity test will be evidence enough.”

“Shut up,” he grimaced.  “Can’t prove you didn’t want it, anyway.  We both know you did.”

You didn’t respond to that, opting to shower silently instead and wincing every time you tried to clean between your legs.  You were going to be sore for days, if not weeks.

“We both know I’m gonna be back for more real soon,” he added darkly.  “Too good for just one night.” 

[fanficimagery]

Hell Takes Riverdale pt. I

Imagine moving to Riverdale while your father has some business to attend to. While there, you meet some people you find yourself growing attached to.

Words: 8.8K Author’s Note: Riverdale AU where FP didn’t go to prison for his crimes and Jughead joined the Serpents because he wanted to. This isn’t exactly Northsider friendly and I’ll be focusing more so on the Serpents, so I won’t go into detail about all the drama the Northside gang constantly puts themselves into the middle of, nor will Jughead be a part of it. I will mention a certain family who lives nearby from another show, but I will NOT be bringing those characters in here. The most you’ll get is what I explain about them in the imagine.

Jughead Jones was notorious for laying low and staying out of the spotlight. At least he was until a murder rocked his small town, Veronica Lodge- along with her criminal family- moved in, and his best friends Betty Cooper and Archie Andrews put together their very own crime solving Scooby Gang. He liked a good mystery every now and then, but the murder of Jason Blossom pointed towards his father's gang and he didn't know how to cope with that.

When FP Jones- Jughead's dad- eventually confessed to the murder, Jughead didn't know what to think. All he knew for sure was that his dad was innocent. So he and his friends did their best to prove Mr. Jones of his innocence, which they eventually did, but given FP's past the police decided to keep him a bit longer.

Jughead Jones was a powder keg waiting to explode, so in a move no one expected, he channeled his anger from the crookedness of their small town Sheriff to the local high school jocks when they decided to target the new girl for laughs. Y/N Y/L/N was a meek little thing, small smiles and small voice whenever called upon. She didn't dress like someone who had money, but then again she didn't dress like she didn't have any either. She presented herself as someone from the middle class which is probably why Jughead felt at ease coming to her defense one day out of the blue.

You're at your locker, putting away your books before you head over to the cafeteria for lunch, when someone shoves their shoulder into your back. You grunt as you collide with the metal in front of you, a few notebooks falling to the floor, and you turn to frown at the culprits. Reggie Mantle and his merry band of jocks laugh at you. "Seriously?" You mumble.

Reggie smirks, shrugging. "I gotta find my entertainment somewhere and what better entertainment is there than the new girl with no voice?" You roll your eyes and bend over to pick up your belongings, only for a sneaker clad foot to kick one of your notebooks away.

"Hey!"

The sound of someone being shoved into the lockers next to you has you looking up, a beanie-wearing, plaid shirt tied around the waist, boy coming to your aide. "What the hell is your problem, Mantle?" Hands fist into the material of Reggie's letterman jacket, slamming him twice against the lockers. "Haven't you ever heard the phrase pick on someone your own size?"

Reggie shoves him back. "Cool it, Jones, less you wanna end up in a cell next to your pops."

He scoffs. "You look real tough picking on a girl. Keep walking, jackass."

Your gaze darts between the two boys, chest to chest with one another, and you practically hold your breath. You can see the other jocks just itching for a fight, but the longer Reggie and your savior stare at one another, the less Reggie seems to be amped up for a fight. He eventually scoffs, smiling. "Whatever. The little mouse isn't much fun anyway."

Reggie goes to walk away, but not before kicking another one of your notebooks further down the hall. You sigh and start collecting your things closest to you once more.

"Hey, I'm really sorry about him. Reggie's a total dick."

You glance at the boy collecting one of your notebooks for you and flash him a small smile. "It's fine. Every school has a bully. I didn't expect this place to be any different."

"Yeah, well.." He trails off, placing the stuff he collected in your locker. "I'm Jughead."

"That's an unusual name," you say. "I'm Y/N."

"Well, Y/N, would you care to join me outside for lunch? I'm kind of alone today and I noticed you don't really sit with anyone either. I'll help keep Reggie off your back," he muses as if his protection would somewhat sweeten the deal.

"Sure. Why not?" You shrug.

Once everything is situated in your locker, you grab the lunch bag that had been hanging from a hook on the inside. Side by side, you walk with Jughead outside and towards one of the concrete picnic tables. He sits down and only then do you realize he had a brown sack clutched in his hand. Immediately he pulls out two smashed sandwiches wrapped in plastic wrap, and unwraps them to start eating.

"So as a token of my thanks," you say while taking a seat across from him and unzipping your lunch bag, "have a fruit cup." You toss him a cool cup of mixed fruit and he happily catches it.

"Thanks." From the corner of your eye, you watch as he stares at you until you start eating your own sandwich and chips. "So Riverdale," he says. "Why here of all places?"

You huff a quiet laugh. Of course you'd heard the whispers about you, curious about your move, but you never spoke to anyone and no one dared to ask you before now. "My half sister lives in Greendale, and she and her aunts were having some personal issues. My dad moved us here so he could help them out, but he wasn't fond of the housing situations Greendale had to offer so we ended up here."

"Oh. I guess that makes sense." He takes a bite of his food. "So are you and your sister close?"

"Not really." Your nose wrinkles. You eat a bit of your own food before explaining. "She kind of hates our dad because he slept with her mom when she was married, but instead of villainizing them both for their mutual decision, she puts all the blame on him."

Jughead shakes his head. "Well that sucks."

"Yep. But she obviously doesn't have a problem calling on him when she's in trouble." You roll your eyes, opening your water and taking a sip. "It's whatever. Riverdale is.. interesting."

"Yeah. It is," he huffs a brief laugh.

Over the next month or so, you and Jughead become actual friends. He attempts to introduce you to his group of friends, but the only one you can actually stomach being around is Archie. Veronica is too nosy, Betty too suspicious, and Kevin rarely hangs out with everyone less it involves a good gossip session. So more often than not, after realizing his group of friends wasn't just your cup of tea, you and Jughead hung out at Pop's Chock'lit-Shoppe.

The retro diner quickly became one of your favorite places in all of Riverdale, but upon entering one Sunday evening and seeing Jughead's expression you know you're not going to enjoy your dinner.

"Uh oh. What's going on with your face?" You ask as you slide in across from Jughead. "You look like you have some bad news."

He grins, shaking his head. "It's not bad. I'm just not sure how well you're going to take what I have to tell you."

"Mhm. Tell me after I've gotten my food." Almost as soon as the words leave your mouth, Pop Tate himself is dropping off your and Jughead's usual order. "Thanks, Pop."

The old man chuckles. "Don't mention it, Y/N. Enjoy your meal."

"Always do." Before any other words can be spoken, you and Jughead squirt ketchup on your respective plates. He steals the cherry from your milkshake and you plop a straw into his Coke to take a sip. The both of you take a bite out of your burgers, chuckling at each other and how at ease the two of you have become with one another. "So what's up?"

"I'm leaving Riverdale High." You pause in chewing and Jughead refuses to meet your gaze. "I'll be starting at Southside High tomorrow morning."

"Oh."

"It's just- my dad's getting out." When he looks up, the excitement in his eyes at the prospect of his dad coming home makes your exterior soften and you start to feel happy for your friend. "He, uh, he's been doing good. Jail forced him to get sober and he's talking about starting over. I'm going to move back in with him."

"That's good news, Jug. I'm really happy for you."

"Are you?" He grabs a fry and quickly dips it into your vanilla milkshake. You chuckle at him.

"Yeah. I mean we mostly hang out here anyway. That won't change, I hope." He's quick to shake his head, letting you know your weekly hang outs at Pop's would still be on. "I'll just have to toughen up and learn how to throw a punch. Reggie and his goons need a nice swift punch to the throat every now and then, I think."

Jughead exhales with relief. "Please let Kevin know beforehand so he can catch it on video for me."

"No promises."

The two of you go on to finish your food, making small talk and promises to keep in touch. Eventually you have to leave, so before you go your separate ways you decide to give Jughead a ride home. And since he's no longer embarrassed to have you over after the first time you'd been over, he accepts the ride with a shrug.

FP Jones has been out of jail for three days and in those three days Jughead has noticed his dad has been a little paranoid. So one day after school, he's had enough and decides to sit down and talk with him.

"What's going on?"

FP glances away from the paper in his hand. "Nothing. Why?"

"Because you're acting weird! Ever since you got out of jail it's like you're constantly looking over your shoulder."

Jughead and FP stare at one another before FP sets the paper down, running a hand through his hair. "Someone's coming to town," he says. "Someone you don't ever want to cross."

"Okay. And?"

"It's worrisome," FP says. "Mr. Morningstar, he's the real deal, Jughead. Expensive suits, expensive cars, posh accent.. this man can be very dangerous."

"Well then round up the Serpents. I'm sure they'll enjoy running this guy out of town."

"Nah." Jughead scoffs, confused as to what his dad's deal is. "Mr. Morningstar is the one who sent one of his lawyers to get me released."

"..oh."

"But Mr. Morningstar doesn't hand out favors without wanting something in return. I don't like being in debt, Jug. Especially to someone like him."

"We'll figure it out, dad. He reached out to you, not the other way around. He can't want something too bad if he came to you first. Right?"

"I don't know, son." FP falls silent, tapping his fingers along the tabletop. "And there's something else you should know."

"What?"

"Mr. Morningstar isn't exactly.. human." Jughead scoffs, but FP shoots him a warning look. "I'm serious. This man is capable of things you wouldn't believe unless you see it in person, but I'm hoping it doesn't come to that. If he comes around, you do as I say. I'll settle my debt with him as quickly as possible and hopefully Riverdale will be in his rearview mirror sooner rather than later."

Jughead doesn't know how to feel at seeing his dad- the Serpent King himself- looking so on edge. He's never seen him so rattled, so it leaves Jughead himself feeling the dread start to seep in.

Every single Serpent inside the Whyte Wyrm was well aware of who Mr. Morningstar was and to be on the lookout for anyone fitting his description. For a week there was no sight or word about him, the same week which Jughead finally decided to throw in with the Serpents and officially become one of the gang. He had texted his friends, some more supportive than others, but he only found comfort in his decision after hearing back from Y/N who held no ill will towards him for wanting to be a Southside Serpent officially.

Jughead is still healing, everyone at the Whyte Wyrm celebrating him completing his initiation.

"Toni," FP calls out, "serve us up some shots!" The petite, pink haired girl behind the bar laughs, she readily grabbing up shot glasses and lining them up along the bar. She fills every shot glass, smiling as her fellow Serpents grab one to await the impending toast. As FP grabs one, he raises it up while staring at his son across the room who's hanging out with a few younger Serpents. "Jughead, while this wasn't the life I wanted for you, it is your decision and you don't know how proud it makes me to have you ride by side. To Jughead!"

"To Jughead!"

The Serpents all whoop and holler, downing their shots in one go.

"Hear, hear," an out of place accent muses. Those closest to the man who seemingly appeared out of nowhere all tense and FP's smile slowly vanishes as he stares at the man who hasn't aged a single year since he last saw him over fifteen years ago. "Well, well. Freedom seems to suit you well, FP."

FP schools his expression. "Mr. Morningstar."

"Call me Lucifer. No need to be so formal."

The Serpents seem to fall silent as FP and Lucifer Morningstar stare at one another. Jughead, seeing the way everyone is holding themselves as the tension amps up, pushes his way through the crowd until he's just behind his dad. "Lucifer," FP says, "why don't you follow me. We'll go somewhere a bit more private."

Lucifer gestures for FP to lead the way. "After you."

FP glances at Jughead over his shoulder, but he doesn't give him any sort of cue to follow. Instead, Jughead follows after them to a table that's not surrounded by any others over by the stage. Once seated, FP stares Mr. Morningstar in the face. "So what brings you to Riverdale? It's been a while since you were last here."

"Ah, yes," he says. Lucifer leans back in seat, smiling. "I originally came to watch a client of mine wreak havoc on your precious little town," at this, FP and Jughead tense, "but someone very important to me made attachments here and I've had to rethink my plans of letting your town burn to the ground."

"A client of yours?" FP's eyes narrow. "Who?"

"I think you know who," Lucifer says. "Annoying little bugger. But as I said before, attachments were made and I had to keep watch over said attachment to see whether or not I approved. And let me tell you, Mr. Jones, I quite liked what I saw."

"Okay?" He drawls. "So what does that have to do with why you're here? Or are you calling in a favor for getting me out?"

Lucifer laughs. "Oh no, FP. You getting out was not my doing." FP freezes. "You see, this someone important to me is my daughter. She's the one who requested you be freed."

"You have a daughter?" FP shifts in his seat. "Why would she want me out?"

"I do. And because one of your little snakelings made quite the impression on her after showing her kindness when he didn't have to." Lucifer raises an eyebrow at FP's completely flabbergasted expression. "This person was and continues to be genuine with my daughter, so I figured I'd step in and help clean up your beloved little town instead of letting it be turned inside out by Hiram Lodge. After all, it seems we're going to be in Riverdale for quite some time now."

FP glances around, but he can't see any of the Serpents being this person in question. Eventually, he asks, "Who?"

Lucifer's gaze darts up over FP's shoulder and lands on Jughead. Jughead's eyes widen. "Me? Who have I-"

"Me, of course." You choose that exact moment to walk out from the back room, ignoring everyone's stare save for Jughead's. You're a bit self-conscious of the black crystallized crown on your head and the skin tight, all black outfit your dad's minions had chosen for you, but you don't show it. The way you're dressed now, Jughead's never seen you this way. "What's wrong, Juggie? Cat got your tongue?"

Your friend gulps as he eyes you up and down. "Y/N?"

"Surprise!" You muse. At his slack expression, your smile diminishes. "It's still me, JJ. No need to be weird now."

FP glances between you and his son as Jughead asks, "Was our friendship even real?"

Your eyes widen. "Of course it was! I was never meant to make friends here," you quickly explain, "but you just couldn't leave me be when Reggie set his sights on me and you- you befriended me for me." Jughead loses some of the tension in his frame. "You didn't talk to me because of who my dad was and what he could do for you. You talked to me because you felt bad for me and then you continued to talk to me because we actually got along."

A beat passes and Jughead eventually sighs. "Don't kid yourself. I only talk to you because you let me steal the cherry from your milkshake." It takes a moment for his words to sink in and when they do you snort. Lucifer chuckles and poor FP has no idea what's going on.

"This is quite fitting, is it not?" Lucifer grins.

FP frowns. "What do you mean?"

"The Serpent Prince and the Queen of Hell. Royalty always seeks out royalty."

You freeze, Jughead's brow furrows, and FP seems to blanch as he comes to a sudden realization. Quick as a snake's strike, you slap the back of your dad's shoulder. "Not here." Then you glance at FP. "Can we continue this talk in a back room?"

He slowly blinks before he snaps out of his thoughts. "Yeah. Let's go."

FP stands and leads the way, and you grin over at Jughead. "Come on. We have some more stuff to talk about."

In a back office, FP and Lucifer have already taken their seats as you and Jughead join them. Instead of sitting, the two of you stand side by side after the door is shut behind you.

"So what exactly is going on here?" FP wonders.

Lucifer glances at you, smirking, and you sigh. You had a feeling he was going to make you explain yourself. "So I noticed instead of scoffing at the queen of hell comment, you blanched." FP hesitantly nods. "So that means you understand my dad is quite.. different."

Lucifer huffs. "I'm the devil, darling. No need to tiptoe around it."

You cringe as he so bluntly puts it out there and nervously gauge the Jones' reactions. Both seem more than a little intimidated and your heart starts to sink. "I'm still me, Jughead. Just a little.. more."

Jughead glances at you. "You're really the daughter of Satan?" You nod. "And this isn't some joke?"

"No. My sister, the one who lives in Greendale, was meant to take the throne," you admit. "But she really does hate my dad and refused it, so it passed on to the next heir. Hell got a little bit stuffy and some of my dad's more important minions were trying to marry me off, so I left with my dad as he dealt with business here. I was supposed to keep my head down until we moved on, but well.." you trail off, smiling softly. "I found that having a friend was quite nice." When Jughead has nothing else to say, you look towards FP. "You've raised a kind son, Mr. Jones. And for that, I'm going to offer you a favor." He seems to straighten up then, glancing worriedly at your dad. "And don't worry, this is a favor from me. I don't do contracts or cut deals like dad does. My favor is a no strings attached type of situation. This is a favor for a friend."

FP and Jughead glance at each other, and you notice FP subtly shake his head. Jughead sighs and looks at you. "Do you promise that me or my dad won't owe you?"

"Jughead," FP warns.

But you only have eyes for your friend as you step towards him and take up his hands within your own. "I swear. You're my friend, JJ. You got Reggie off my back and offered genuine companionship, so let me do something for you."

"You mean like getting my dad out of jail?"

You grin, releasing his hands and shoving at his shoulder. "Oh whatever. I was bored and you seemed like you missed him. Bite me, Jones." Lucifer chuckles and FP looks like he has no idea what's going on. "So come on. Whose life needs ruining?"

Jughead stares at you before shaking his head in amusement. "You're a little too excited to be ruining someone."

"I am my father's daughter."

Jughead stares at you, as if trying to conclude whether you're being genuine or not, and then has a silent conversation with his dad. Eventually FP sighs, cradling his head in his hands as Jughead looks back to you. "I messed up bad, Y/N. When my dad first got put into jail, someone suggested I visit this lawyer- who is also a Serpent- so that she'll guide me on how to get my dad released."

"And the snake double crossed you. Shocking," your dad chuckles.

"Shut up." Lucifer continues to chuckle, mime zipping his lips shut. You look back to your friend. "Go on."

"She gave me advice as a favor and said I'd owe her one someday in the future. I didn't think it through."

"The snake charmer is notorious for collecting favors and blackmailing you into continuing owing her favors," FP says. "She's turning the Serpents into drug runners and using video of my son delivering a crate of drugs as leverage so we don't tell her no."

Lucifer tuts. "That just won't do. Last I recalled, the Serpents were against drug dealing."

"We are," FP says, "but we can't deny her since she has that damn video. It'll be his word against hers."

Expression tightening, you glance between the two Serpents. "Give me a name."

"Penny Peabody."

Immediately you and your dad glance at one another, and you're the first to shout, "Dibs!" At his pout, you grin victoriously. "It's been awhile since I've seen any action. I'll call auntie Maze to collect the guest of honor."

You and Jughead are sitting at Pop's, waiting for your order to be brought out. It's your usual weekend hangout session, as well as a mini celebration for getting the Snake Charmer out of Serpent territory. FP had been a little hesitant around you and your father, but the more he watched you and his son, and you and your dad, he came to the realization that neither he or Jughead would be in harm's way. No one would be less they actually crossed the devil himself, so you were a bit surprised when FP had actually hugged you when you told him Penny would no longer be an issue. Afterwards, he was eager to talk to your dad and figure out a way to get the Southside cleaned up and fix the Serpents' reputation.

Seeing Jug's beanie laying on the table, you grin as you swipe it and quickly put it atop your head. "What do you say, Jones, wanna switch crowns for a day?"

He chuckles as he shakes his head. "I don't think I can pull off your crown." Your nose wrinkles at him as you laugh. "And speaking of crowns, are you going to tell anyone else anytime soon?"

You shrug. "I only talk to you and your dad, and at that your dad already knew about my dad."

"I didn't know anything about you or your dad and you told me."

"You were my friend before you found out about me being Hell royalty. I don't want to just tell anyone and then have them kissing up because of things I could possibly do for them."

Jughead nods in understanding. "I take it, it's happened before."

You touch the tip of your nose. "Bingo, JJ. Demons of Hell are shady assholes. But don't worry, if I befriend more Serpents they'll find out when the time is right."

"Well I think you're going to get your chance now because here come some friends of mine."

"What?"

"Whoa, Jughead, is that you? You've certainly changed from the last time I saw you earlier."

You smile sheepishly as three Serpents come up to your table, the one who spoke sitting next to Jughead while the tall one climbs in between you and the window, and the female sits on your free side. You pull off Jug's beanie and hand it back to him just in time for your food to be delivered. Immediately, Jughead steals the cherry from your milkshake and you take a sip of his soda. Once that's done, you squirt ketchup on your plates before you take a bite of your burgers.

"Well that was freakishly adorable." You glance at the pink haired cutie next to you and she grins. "Toni Topaz."

"Y/N Y/L/N. Well Y/N Morningstar now. I don't have to hide who I am anymore."

"Nice." She then points to the guy beside Jughead. "That's Fangs and the one on your other side is Sweet Pea." You nod at each boy in greeting, bite down on a few fries and steal from Jughead's plate every time he dips a fry into your milkshake. "So how did you and our snake prince become so close?"

Toni steals a fry from your plate and you grin at her. "First of all, I really hope you're not insinuating anything there. Don't get me wrong, Jughead's a cutie but I'd totally seduce Papa Jones before I went after baby Jones."

Jughead groans in disgust, Fangs and Sweet Pea snort, and Toni laughs out loud. "I like you."

"Maybe the sentiment will be returned soon," you say. "And to honestly answer your question, Jug came to my rescue when a few jerks decided I was an easy target at Riverdale High."

Sweet Pea scoffs. "Ugh. How do you put up with those mangy mutts?" It's his turn to steal from your plate, but you merely raise an eyebrow at his audacity before you glance at Jughead as he smothers a laugh.

"By avoiding them at all cost," you say. "Is food stealing a thing with you guys or..?"

"If you're really hungry, I'd hold onto that burger of yours. Fangs is notorious for stealing any and all food left unattended." Toni chuckles as you pull your plate towards you, but that only makes it easier for her and Sweet Pea to continue eating off your plate.

"You're all heathens," you deadpan. "At least Jughead waited a few days before he started eating off my plate."

The Serpents chuckle all around you and you find yourself relaxing in your seat. You knew the Southside Serpents had a bad reputation, but the more time you spent with them the more you realize just how wrong everyone is. The Serpents are some of the most loyal, drama free individuals you'd met and they're only riled up when someone attacks one of their own. And that- that you can respect.

During your lunch break, you're sitting alone and texting back and forth with Toni. Apparently word has gotten out that the Mayor is looking to shut down Southside High because it's unsafe for children, and the plan is to divide every Southside High student between several other high schools. Needless to say, every Southsider is pissed.

You send a text to your dad, asking if he knew what was going on, and he assures you he and Mr. Jones are looking into it.

Your can of Cola gets snatched up and you snap to attention, ready to argue back for your drink. But the sight of a grinning Jughead sitting across from you makes you relax and Sweet Pea straddling the bench right next to you makes you shake your head at them. "What are you guys doing here?"

"Southside High is in chaos," Jughead says. He takes a sip of your soda before setting it back next to your books. "We were at the Wyrm when your dad asked us to collect you."

"Toni's been filling me in," you admit. "Does anyone know if the Mayor is for sure going through with this plan of hers?"

"It's such bullshit," Sweet Pea grumbles. "Yeah the school is shit ever since the Ghoulies started pushing Jingle Jangle on everyone, but it's ours."

"Don't worry, Sweets. Dad's on it. He'll figure something out."

He huffs. "Against Mayor McCoy? Doubt it."

You and Jughead share a knowing glance, and you bite back a grin. "My dad can be very.. persuasive."

"And scary," Jughead mumbles.

"Yes, let's not forget scary," you muse.

"What the hell is this?" The stern question is barked from somewhere behind you and you turn towards the voice. "Cooper dropped your sorry ass and now you're trying to lure in Y/N, Jones? I don't think so, you goddamn snake."

You roll your eyes at Reggie and his friends, and at the fact that the others sitting outside are now staring.

"Watch your mouth, you mangy mutt." Sweet Pea moves to stand, but you place a hand on his knee in order to silently tell him to stay put. He doesn't glance at you, but he does remain sitting.

Instead, you stand and step away from the bench in Reggie's direction. "What's your problem, Mantle? I know for a fact you don't care about me, so what is it about the Southsiders that has you so insecure?"

Reggie seems surprised that you've spoken back and it takes him a moment to school his expression back into one of anger. "Who the hell says I'm insecure?"

"Come on, Reggie," you grin. "You obviously have a hate boner going on for them." Jughead and Sweet Pea snort, and Reggie glares at them over your head. "So what is it? Is it because they're cooler than you? That they're so much more hotter than you and you know for a fact us Northside girls would willingly get on the back of their bikes than in the car mommy and daddy bought for you?"

Reggie sneers down at you. "Of course you'd be a Southside slut."

Jughead and Sweet Pea shout in your defense, rushing to their feet as you blink in surprise at the venom in his tone. But then anger quickly takes over and no one sees as your hand forms a fist at your side. When Reggie smirks at your silence, quick as lightning you change your stance so you can send your fist flying into his throat.

As Reggie stumbles back and gasps for air, Sweet Pea grabs you by the arm and then you're running. Sweet Pea and Jughead are laughing as they run for their bikes and you readily climb on behind Sweet Pea since he still had a hold of you. Two engines rumble to life simultaneously and you wrap your arms around Sweet Pea's waist, ducking your face behind his back so the wind doesn't sting your eyes.

When the three of you finally come to a stop, you're not in the Southside yet but you are well away from Riverdale High. The engines cut off and you finally pick up your head, and it's quiet for a few moments before Jughead starts to laugh once more.

"You actually punched Reggie in the throat." He shakes his head in amusement at you. "I did not think you were capable of ever hitting someone."

Sweet Pea chuckles. "You do know you left behind all your belongings. It's gonna be trashed by the time you go back for it."

You shrug. "The only thing worth saving was my phone and it's in my back pocket. A backpack can be replaced, and besides I think it's time Riverdale High and I take a break from one another."

Jughead and Sweet Pea's amusement slowly fades. "Wait. What?" Jughead asks. "You're dropping out?"

"No." You huff a laugh. "Transferring."

"Transferring to where?"

"Southside, you dimwits." You squeeze Sweet Pea when he scoffs at you calling him a name, letting him know you didn't actually think he was a dimwit. "I'm so over the drama of Riverdale High. I need a change. And if I want to go to Southside to be with my favorite people, do you really think my dad will let the school be closed down?"

"You really have that much faith in your old man, huh?" Sweet Pea asks.

"I do. And you should too." Jughead glances at you when you say that and you subtly shake your head at him. Soon, you mouth at him. "Now come on. Let's go see what my dad wants. I feel like going out tonight so I need to finish whatever task he has for me and make sure Toni is free."

The small gang of friends find themselves at Pop's diner once again, you being squished between Sweet Pea and Toni while Jughead and Fangs sit across from you. You and Toni share a plate of cheese fries, half of your burger having been stolen by Fangs and you steal sips of Cola from both Jughead and Sweet Pea since Sweets had finished your milkshake. When eating with them, you quickly learned extra food had to be ordered because once a plate was set down it was basically a free for all.

You're laughing at Fangs' affronted expression, from when he tried stealing cheese fries from you and Toni and you both had slapped his hand, when the bell above the door jingles. Your gaze is drawn to the group that enters, your mood souring just a tad when Archie, Betty, and Veronica enter. They glance around the diner for a booth and upon setting sights on your group, Archie chooses a booth not far from yours.

Toni nudges you to show you a message on her phone, lightening up the mood right away. But every now and then your attention is brought back to the Riverdale High group, and you can't help but notice the longing looks Betty keeps throwing at Jughead. And the fact that Jughead keeps glancing over his shoulder until he finally gets up, Betty following him seconds later to join him at a different booth.

"Did I miss something?" You ask when your friend is out of earshot.

Toni huffs. "They're doing that whole on again, off again thing. It's tiring," she says.

You frown as Jughead and Betty start talking, heads ducked close to one another, but then quickly avert your attention back to those sitting with you. You don't really have anything against Betty, but that girl attracts drama like crazy and you would rather not see her drag Jughead into it again.

The four of you left in the booth amuse yourselves while finishing off the remainder of your food, and you make sure that all your plates are stacked with the trash compiled on top so the busboy has little to no cleanup after you leave. But while you're still sitting there and waiting to see what Jughead is going to do, you can't help but overhear Veronica's obnoxious voice filling in her boyfriend Archie about all the great changes supposedly coming to Riverdale soon.

"I mean it's no longer a secret mommy and daddy are buying up property, Archiekins, but can you blame them?" Toni, Sweet Pea, and Fangs all tense, Fangs trying his hardest not to look in their direction. "The Northside is flourishing under their management and soon the Southside will too. We just have a few more hoops to jump through before we can start tearing down and rebuilding."

Having heard enough, you tap Sweet Pea's arm. "Move." Fangs widens his eyes at you and Toni giggles, she loving your more aggressive behavior. Sweet Pea stares at you for a moment before he grins, sliding out of his seat so you can follow right after him. Then taking a few steps towards Veronica and Archie's both, you stop and address the entitled teen. "Consider those hoops everlasting," you say. "Lodge Industries will no longer be buying up any property in Riverdale."

Veronica scoffs, smirking a second later. "And who the hell do you think you are to have any say so in my family's dealings?"

This time you smirk and you mentally cheer when you see her own falter. "Tell daddy dearest the Morningstars say hello. Lucifer will be in touch soon." You reach forward as Veronica's expression completely falls, stealing the cherry from her milkshake and catching the red, plump flesh behind your teeth and plucking the stem free. Letting the stem drop onto the table, you glance over your shoulder and gesture for your friends to follow. They do, chuckling all the while you walk towards the door. But before you walk out, you look over at Jughead and catch his attention. "Hey, JJ, we're heading out. Call me if you need a ride."

"Oh, uh, I'll come with." Betty quickly glances at him and for a split second you feel bad for her. "We're done here anyway." He slides out of the booth, ignoring Betty's frown as he makes his way towards you and his fellow Serpents.

Sweet Pea jostles Jughead, the two boys shoving each other lightly and laughing as the five of your exit. Everyone piles into your small SUV and it's not until Toni is comfortably seated in the passenger seat does she ask, "How serious were you with that threat back there? Can your dad really stop Lodge Industries?"

You slowly start to grin as you back out of your parking space. "Hiram Lodge is one of my dad's clients," you admit. "They have a.. contract of sorts, and Mr. Lodge is rich because of that. But my dad is starting to cut ties with some old clients of his and I'm pretty sure the Lodge's time up on that little pedestal of theirs is coming to an end."

"Sweet," Sweet Pea says from the back seat. "Hey, if your dad buys the school do you think you can ask him to put doors back on the bathroom stalls?"

You and Toni both snort, and you nod your head. "Sure, Sweets. I'll see what I can do."

          - - - - - - - - - - 

At the Whyte Wyrm, Sweet Pea and Fangs make a beeline for the pool table. Toni heads for the bar, her shift about twenty minutes from starting, and Jughead gets pulled into a conversation by some elder Serpents. Glancing around the bar, you don't see either man you want to speak with so you head for the hallway near the back wall where you know it leads to an office. A couple Serpents guarding the hall nod at you and let you pass without a word.

When you come upon the shut door to FP's office, you knock a couple of times and wait for confirmation to enter. A moment passes before his gruff voice is calling out that exact confirmation.

Opening the door, you walk right in and aren't surprised to see your dad in there as well. You smirk, happy to know he found a mortal he felt comfortable enough to share his identity with and that said mortal didn't go running for the hills. "FP. Dad," you greet. "Just the men I was looking for."

FP leans back in his chair as you take a seat across from him. "What can I do for you, Y/N?"

"Well first, I need to know your opinion about Sweet Pea, Toni, and Fangs." You then turn to look at your dad. "And depending on FP's answer, I need to know-"

"Your first orgy," your dad coos. "I approve. Especially the tall one. He'd make an excellent consort."

"I'm sorry, what?" FP glances between you and your dad, disbelief in his features.

You sigh, closing your eyes and pinching the bridge of your nose. "Dad, no. Just no," you say. When your eyes flutter back open, you say, "What did I tell you about speaking of orgies so freely in front of mortals? It's weird. Especially since you're my dad. You're not supposed to approve of these things."

"Well fine. Have it your way." Lucifer leans back in his seat, resting his right ankle atop his left knee and taking a sip of his drink. "Probably for the best anyway. Naamah will be upset if you deny her the chance to plan your first orgy."

"Oh my god."

FP finally laughs, shaking his head as if he can't believe what he's hearing. Your dad pouts and you give your attention to FP once more. "The baby snakes are a loyal bunch," he says. "I've had some older Serpents question you and your father's presence here within the Wyrm, but Jug and the others were quick to defend you. Why do you ask?"

Here you look back to your dad. "I want to come clean to them. Jughead knows about me and it's getting tough to censor what I say in front of the others when we all hang out."

Lucifer salutes you with his glass tumbler. "You're the Queen of Hell, darling. You can tell whoever you want."

"Good to know." You push up from your chair, smiling at both men. "Oh and I want Southside High. Veronica Lodge and her family are trying to tear the Southside down and rebuild, but I feel like throwing a wrench into their plans."

Lucifer raises an eyebrow at you. "And how do you suggest going about that?"

"By befriending Mayor McCoy, of course." FP snorts, but you continue on as if you didn't hear him. "She seems like a decent lady when the Lodge's aren't blackmailing her into doing their bidding. Give her a little taste of power, no strings attached and without letting her know your true identity, and show her you're an ally. I have a feeling she'll drop the Lodge's in a heartbeat."

FP grins, shaking his head. "You really are your father's daughter."

You glance at him and smirk. "Duh. Now carry on. I'm going to be with Toni behind the bar."

          - - - - - - - - - - 

The Whyte Wyrm is as busy as always and you happily find your place behind the bar with Toni. She serves up the drinks as you walk around, cleaning glasses and/or wiping down the bar top. Every now and then you catch your dad or FP's eye, and they signal for a round of drinks that Toni readily makes before walking a tray over to them. You then watch your boys from afar, laughing when Jughead catches your eye and purposefully makes Sweet Pea miss his shot while playing pool. Sweet Pea is apparently a very sore loser, but you can't help to think that he makes a really cute sore loser.

When Toni returns and sees where you're looking, she sidles up to your side while cleaning a glass in her hand. "So, uh, I think I should apologize."

You look at her. "For what?"

"Earlier at Pop's, when I told you Jughead and the Cooper girl were on again/off again, you looked like someone kicked your puppy for a moment there."

"Did I?" You chuckle, shrugging her words off. "It's fine. Jughead has become a really good friend to me and I'm not exactly Betty's biggest fan. They say southsiders are nothing but trouble, but those northsiders have caused a lot more trouble than any of you have. I don't want to see him be dragged into their messes again."

"Oh," she drawls. "Okay. I just thought that you were upset because she and Jughead were together again and you had missed your shot or something."

"No." You laugh. "And besides, I kind of have my eye on another Serpent, but I don't think he likes me that way."

Toni rolls her eyes. "I don't think FP is into jailbait. Sorry."

You snort, shaking your head in amusement. "A girl can dream."

Over the next couple of weeks, you get well acquainted with the power struggle between the Ghoulies and the Southside Serpents within the high school. The school is practically run down, there's no privacy within the graffitied walls of the bathrooms, and a little less than half the student population have no issue taking drugs out in the open while standing in the hallways. Not a single one of your favorite Serpents lets you out of their sight, and though you don't need their protection you welcome it. And their loyalty towards you is what leads you to take that final step in finally telling your other three friends the truth.

Walking up to the Jones' trailer, you stomp up the steps and pound on the door. A few seconds later the door opens and FP raises his eyebrows at you as he's pulling on a leather jacket.

"Y/N?"

"Hey, FP. Is JJ home?"

"Yeah. Come in." He opens the door wider and you step in, heading for the couch. "Is everything okay?"

"Peachy." You grin. You plop down in the corner of a couch, crossing one knee over the other. "I just finally decided to tell the others the truth and I wanted to see if Jughead would be there for me in case things go south."

A look of understanding passes over FP's features and he smiles kindly at you when he notices your bit of nerves. "It'll go fine. If Jug and I didn't run, neither will these three little shits." You grin at him. "Now I should get going. Will your dad and I be seeing you later?"

"Depends on how well my little bombshell is taken."

"Alright." FP heads towards the kitchen, calling down the only hallway in his trailer. "Hey Jug, Y/N is here so put some clothes on before you come out."

FP smiles at you one last time before he exits his trailer and it's not until his bike's engine outside roars to life does Jughead exit his bedroom from the back. "What's going on?"

"It's time to tell the other baby snakes about my heritage."

He blinks. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah." You nod, momentarily second guessing yourself. "Yeah," you then say more confidently. "I think the longer I wait now, the higher the chance of them being pissed at the fact that I kept something like this from them."

"Okay. Where are we doing this?"

"Quarry?" You wonder. "We need privacy, but not too private that they feel trapped should they not take the news well."

Jughead exhales quietly. "Quarry it is. My bike or your car?"

"Your bike. Text Toni and the guys. I just need to grab my bag from my car."

Jughead is pulling on his jacket as he gestures for you to join him by the door, then pulling on his infamous crown beanie before pulling out his phone to text the others. He heads to his bike while you head for your car, opening the passenger door and pulling out your messenger bag. Draping the bag strap over your head and across your chest, you close the door and lock up before pocketing the keys.

When you sidle up to Jughead, he hands you his only helmet and you readily pull it on before climbing on behind him. He's not normally a crazy driver, so you loosely wrap your arms around his waist and enjoy the short ride to the quarry.

You and Jughead are the first to arrive, walking towards a spot that seems to have frequent visitors. Seats torn out from vehicles and a few crates form a half circle around an unlit barrel just off to the side of the water, and Jughead wastes no time in lighting up the barrel since it's a little chilly out.

Placing your bag on one of the seats, you walk towards the fire and hold your hands over it to warm up. Then about five minutes later, the rest of your friends show up.

"What's going on?" Sweet Pea asks as his gaze darts between you and Jug. As he sees you warming up, he stops by your side and wraps an arm around your shoulders to offer some of his warmth. Toni and Fangs stand on the other side of the barrel, warming themselves up briefly before taking a seat.

"I, uh, I have something I need to tell you guys. It's going to sound incredibly insane, but I need you to trust me when I say I am no threat to you." Sweet Pea frowns down at you and he only takes a seat when you nudge him towards the others. Jughead grabs your bag and hands it to you, and you smile faintly in thanks. Then opening the flap, you remove your crown and let your bag fall before hesitantly putting the crown on. Clearing your throat, you say, "When you guys first saw me, I was wearing this."

Fangs grins. "We thought you were just another spoiled little daddy's girl."

You grin back. "I mean I am," you shrug, "but the crown actually means something."

"Are you trying to tell us you're royalty or something?" Toni chuckles. At your neutral expression, her smile falters. "Y/N?"

You inhale shakily, glancing at Jughead who gives you an encouraging nod. "Whenever people meet my dad, I'm well aware that they think his given name is rather unfortunate." Sweet Pea snorts, grinning. A couple older Serpents at the Wyrm made it no secret when making fun of your dad's name. "But what if I told you that my dad really is the Lucifer Morningstar?" Your serious, yet nervous, expression makes the other three go still. "That I'm literally the daughter of the devil?"

The only sounds you can hear are the chirping crickets and crackling fire until, "You really buying this, man?" Sweet Pea scoffs. You briefly glance at him to see he's staring at Jughead who's still by your side.

Jughead nods, his arms crossed over his chest. "I am. My dad knew something was up with Lucifer before they outright told us the truth. He's known for years, but Lucifer wasn't a threat to him then or now so he didn't make a fuss about it."

Sweet Pea frowns. He doesn't look scared or pissed, but he doesn't look impressed either. "Why are you telling us this now?"

"That first night, my dad let FP and Jughead in on our secret because he saw how I trusted Jug and wasn't planning to leave Riverdale anytime soon. We trusted the Jones' and they now trust us. The circle of people in the know was meant to stay as small as possible, but then you three," you pause, huffing and smiling sadly as you meet each of their gazes, "wormed your way under my skin and I knew I couldn't keep a secret this big from you anymore."

"So your dad really is the devil?" Fangs asks. His gaze is set on the flames just barely dancing over the rim of the barrel, an expression on his face you can't quite decipher.

Sighing, you let your left hand wave back and forth over the flames. "My dad really is Lucifer Morningstar." You hold your hand still then, the flames engulfing your hand. Someone gasps, but you don't look up until you say, "And I'm the Queen of Hell."

"Oh fuck."

Fangs immediately shoots up, stumbling behind his seat. Sweet Pea's expression has completely shut down and Toni stares with wide eyes. Without having to look in a mirror, you already know your eyes have gone pure white and the picture you paint with the crown atop your head can look quite daunting.

"I'm still me- the same girl you've been hanging out with for a while now." You swallow down the hurt you feel at their speechlessness. "But.. I will understand if this is too much. All I ask is that this little revelation doesn't leave the circle." Still your friends say nothing and fight against the burn behind your eyes. "I'm sorry."

As quickly as you can, you bend over to pick up your bag. Shouldering the strap, you turn to walk away when Jughead calls out. "Y/N.."

"It's fine," you say and cast him a small smile. "I'll pick up my car later. I'm going home."

"Let me give you a ride home at least."

You shake your head. "I'll manage." And with that, you turn and walk away, letting a swirl of flames whisk you away.

Maybe you should have waited, dropping hints here and there to ease them in. But as you appear in your room, you drop onto your bed and let the sadness swallow you whole. What's done is done. All you can do is hope for the best now.

[arwamachine]

Fingers

“Fingers?”

John cleared his throat. “Um. Yeah.”

Sherlock reached into the bag—a plastic evidence bag, nicked from Scotland Yard, he noticed—and pulled out a thumb. He twirled the digit between his fingers, scrutinizing it. Male late forties desk job accountant likely recently divorced bit of an alcohol problem stumbled in front of a bus boring boring boring. “Why have you got fingers?”

John was scratching at his head, avoiding eye contact. It had been a bit of a confusing blur, the last two minutes, and Sherlock was so rarely confused, which made the whole of it all the more intriguing. Sherlock had been examining some blood samples at his microscope when John burst into the flat and quite literally shoved the evidence bag into Sherlock’s hands. John said nothing by way of explanation, only stood there, nodded at the bag, and then immediately started looking anywhere in the room except for Sherlock.

Pulse elevated breathing rate heightened perspiration increased. He’s nervous.

“They were a bit hard to get, the fingers,” John said to the bit of table just to the left of Sherlock. “Don’t know how you come by them so easy. Body parts, that is. Got a hell of a strange look from Lestrade.”

“I should think so.” Sherlock peered underneath the fingernail of the thumb in his hand. A bit of dirt there. From the Soho area, Sherlock would guess.

“You know you aren’t actually supposed to have body parts?” John asked. “Something about a health hazard?”

“Yes,” Sherlock said. “That’s why I tend not to ask Lestrade directly for them.” He turned the thumb over. The severance at the joint was clean and performed recently. Post-mortem. “Molly, however…”

“Yeah,” John said. His hands were now so far deep inside his pockets it looked as if he were hoping to pull himself inside his own trousers and hide out for a spell. “She was more agreeable.”

“She tends to be,” Sherlock said. He plopped the thumb back into the evidence bag and pulled out another finger. This one had a faded tan line, the spot where the man’s wedding band had sat until approximately one month ago. Oh these fingers were boring. “And why were you bothering Molly for fingers, John?”

John cleared his throat again. He rocked forward on his toes. “It’s a bit difficult,” he said. “You. Because you’re so…” He gestured vaguely in Sherlock’s direction, as if that communicated something. It did not. 

Sherlock narrowed his eyes. It was challenging to understand John when he was like this, all half-sentences and nonsensical gestures.

“You wouldn’t go for flowers,” John said. “Probably say something about them being some hare-brained romantic construct, then deduce what kind of kinks the florist had. Then start talking about bees for some reason.” John looked at his shoes. “Chocolates seemed out too. God knows if you’d even eat them. I’d end up sharing them with Mrs. Hudson.”

“Indeed,” Sherlock said. He could practically see John’s pulse hammering in his throat. He could smell John’s deodorant, working overtime. The whole of it was fascinating.

“So I asked myself,” John said. He was trying to keep his breaths even. He was struggling a bit with that task. “What do you like? You know, what sorts of things make you happy? Crime scenes, obviously. Little puzzles, things to solve. Dogs, for some reason.”

“And fingers,” Sherlock said. He plopped the ring finger back into the bag.

“Well,” John said. “Body parts in general. I tried to get you a spleen, didn’t think you had one of those. Molly wasn’t that agreeable. So…” He waved a hand at the bag. “Fingers.” John looked up then, catching Sherlock’s gaze for the first time since he threw the fingers at him. “Do you like them?” He looked heartbreakingly hopeful.

Sherlock glanced at the bag of fingers. He had deduced everything he could from the things mere seconds after John handed them to him. Molly had given John some very simple severed parts. John would really need to learn how to haggle with her a bit better.

John deflated. “You don’t like them,” he said. He scratched at his head again, doing his best to recover. “Right. Bad idea on my part. Just…” he waved a hand at the bag again, as if trying to erase it, “forget I did that.”

Sherlock stood, stepping towards John. He took John’s face in his hands, forcing John’s eyes back to his. Nervous hopeful fretted all week over this no two weeks it would seem trying to communicate something doesn’t have the words never does really but it’s alright he loves me he loves me so much.

Sherlock pressed a kiss to John’s mouth, slow and sweet. He felt John exhale against him, relief slipping over his lips. John’s hands found Sherlock’s waist, running along Sherlock’s sides as their mouths moved together. When they separated, the hope had returned to John’s eyes.

“I like you,” Sherlock said.

John smiled, and it was lovelier than all the severed fingers in London.

“I love you,” Sherlock said, “if we’re being precise about matters.”

John’s smile widened. “I love you too,” he said.

Sherlock kissed him again. John’s arms wrapped around Sherlock’s shoulders, pulling him close as the kiss deepened and took on heat. Sherlock pushed John backwards, maneuvering him down the hallway, towards their bedroom.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, John,” Sherlock whispered as the two tumbled onto the bed.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Sherlock,” John said.

And the fingers were all but forgotten.