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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 3 days

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somewhere in the back of your mind, you know this isn’t how it should be.

your living room is dimly lit, illuminated only by the tv in front of you, and the moon is glowing a pearlescent blue. flimsy strings of moonlight spill over your floorboards, reflecting off the windows, and whatever you’re doing isn’t what you should be doing. you shouldn’t be awake this late, shouldn’t be gorging on sweets before bed, shouldn’t be having a rendezvous with an enemy — shouldn’t be watching movies with your ex of ten years.

most of all, you shouldn’t be feeling nearly this content.

getō is seated right beside you, legs comfortably spread, popping a macaron into his mouth. chewing it slowly, savouring the flavour — or lack thereof, you suppose. he can’t taste much, anymore; one too many curses digested. or so he says.

this time, he brought pastries with him. expensive ones, you can tell, just from the package alone — a soft pastel pink box, wrapped up in silk, golden letters etched into the front. mont blancs, macarons, two slices of strawberry shortcake. carefully picked, suited to your tastes.

(you aren’t actually too fond of sweets, anymore, but how is he to know? he hasn’t seen you in years.)

”would you like me to make us some tea?”

when you turn your gaze towards him, getō’s wearing a smile. laid-back, the slightest upward curl, tilting his head in a manner you’re far too used to. eyes shining with something keen. somehow, it feels difficult to tear your gaze away from his.

but you manage, turning forward, grasping control over your sleepy vocal cords. ”no, i’m good.”

a low hum. he’s still looking at you. ”coffee?”

”the sweets are more than enough.”

this time, a smile, one you can’t see but still somehow sense. a little bit amused. geto gazes at you with a knowing look, watches you glance at the box of pastries on your coffee table — studying you under the monochrome flicker of the tv-screen.

”understood,” he finally quips, leaning back into the leather couch, exhaling a little breath. ”eat as much as you’d like. i bought them for you, you know.”

you nod, nibbling at a macaron. not glancing his way.

being alone with him still feels a little awkward. a little tense, to be curled up on the same couch, watching the same movie, just like your old sleepovers in high school. there’s an elephant in the room that neither of you have addressed — not since he first showed up, just a couple weeks ago, waltzing up to your apartment with a plastic bag of dvds after a decade of estrangement. wearing heavy robes, and a familiar smile. asking to be let in.

and despite every single circumstance telling you not to, you did just that. you’ve yet to refuse.

(satoru would hate you, if he knew.)

so he’s there, right beside you, and you don’t talk about it. not his choice, not your work, not anything except the movie playing on the screen in front of you. this time, it’s one he’s seen before — beautiful, he called it, and for once you think it might be a romance; if the kiss between the main actors is anything to go by.

you wonder if that’s why he says it.

”say, do you hate me?”

you still. freezing in place, for a moment, discontent but not surprised. he’s always been like this; breaking the illusion of peace before you can find any solace in it.

you bite back a groan, and shoot him a glance out of the corner of your eye — but he isn’t looking at you. only at the tv, at the two men, holding hands and standing on a bridge in the rain, watching the stars twinkle in the sky. and you sigh, turning your head to look at him fully, parting your lips. your voice comes out frustrated.

”do you really want to have this conversation now?”

”when else?” he chuckles, meeting your gaze with one brow raised. amber eyes gleaming with mirth, and something else, something less practiced. ”you don’t have to answer. i’m just curious.”

you gulp down the last of the macaron, licking your lips for any leftover crumbs — unaware of how his eyes follow the movement. ”are you?”

a hum buzzes in the back of his throat, a tiny rasp. you wonder if he’s tired. ”i hadn’t expected this, you know.” he taps at his knee with the pads of his fingers, rhythmic and controlled. ”i thought it was just wishful thinking… that you’d let me come this close.”

you feel his gaze on you. it’s heavy, heavy like lead, like a loaded gun. you feel it dissect you from afar, and can’t find it in you to reach for another pastry.

”… would you have preferred being kicked out?”

”not at all.” a little grin plays at his lips, something in his voice betraying the face he’s making. ”are you avoiding the question?”

another sigh. you’re painfully aware of how resigned it sounds, spilling out into the open air, already filling with a sense of dread; any leftover nostalgia bursting at the seams. you want to tell him so many things, but every thread inside your mind feels all tangled up.

and, as always, getō beats you to the punch.

”that’s fine, too.” a brief pause, a twitch of his pinkie. he closes his eyes, a flutter of his lashes, and inhales a breath. ”— because i’ll keep waiting.”

for a second, you consider not taking the bait.

… then you’re giving in. because that’s what you always do, whenever he’s involved. you watch him in the dark, pale skin enveloped by moonlight, raven hair spilling across the headrest. he looks beautiful, just resting his eyes.

”… for what?” you whisper, and his answer comes without a hitch to his breath.

”for you to love me again.”

…

getō tilts his head, opening his eyes, a golden brown dragging you into their depths. he looks expectant, selfishly awaiting a response, and you’re tired.

(unbeknownst to you, he resists the urge to intertwine his fingers with yours, to trace every ridge and dip of your knuckles with his thumb. to squeeze your palm like a promise, something concrete.)

when your mind has managed to untangle itself, something in your gaze turns sharp. frustrated, impatient, disappointed, looking at him with a raised brow. ”you really are stupid, aren’t you?”

as fast as it came, your gaze returns to the screen in front of you. monochrome, flickering, two beautiful men. one of them is holding a gun to the other’s temple, and the victim looks appeased. the movie’s almost over.

(how very like him, to find such violence beautiful.)

quietly, you swallow down the bile building up in the back of your throat. a decade of bitter flavours. clenching your teeth, nails digging into the couch beneath you, leather on your cold fingertips. it’s a little peeled.

you wonder why you even bother being honest, when he never quite seems to return the favour.

but the room is dimly lit, and the moon is big and bright, and your ex of ten years is sitting right next to you. in your apartment, on your couch, watching a movie on your tv. when he could, should be anywhere else. he’s with you, and he pulls the words out of your throat without trying. puppeteering your heartbeat.

”… as if i ever stopped.”

silence.

you hear a gunshot ring out. low, muffled, a crackle of static. one of the men falls down to the ground, and you can’t tell who's who. the actors are forgettable, but the soundtrack is pretty. it rings in your ears like a lullaby.

getō says your name.

it sounds the same as you remember. honeyed syllables, spilling from his parted lips, silky and sweet. he says your name like he’s asking to marry you, and you can hear the smile he’s struggling to repress.

”will you look at me?”

it’s less of a question, and more of a demand. you wonder why he even bothers asking — but you’ve never really understood the way his brain works. never understood why a burglar would bother asking the shopkeeper for permission before reaching for the register, when they’ll be leaving with the money either way.

and you’re paralyzed, stuck in place on the couch, gaze glued to the screen in front of you. but you aren’t watching, not really, just looking. and you don’t want to see what kind of face he’s making. so you whisper;

”.. no.”

”no?” he mimics, something like a coo on the tip of his tongue, lightly amused. as always, you can feel his gaze, travelling down your face like a trickle of honey. ”and why is that, my dear?”

you bite down on your lip.

a long, long moment passes, and neither of you say a word. he’s looking at you, and you’re looking down at your lap, at your clenched fists. a little meek. it’s quiet, the calm before the storm, and you know exactly what’s going to happen — because it’s already set in stone.

”because you’re going to kiss me,” you exhale, finally, resignation on your breath. ”and i’m going to let you.”

…

for a second, you wonder if his silence means he understands. if he can hear the desperate plea in your voice, if he can translate it correctly.

but his fingertips graze the lines of your jaw, his palm sneaks under your chin, and he keeps you in place. turning your head to meet his gaze, his amber eyes, dripping with something hungry; something pleading.

this time, he doesn’t ask for permission. he leans forward until there’s no space between you, tips your head back, and kisses you with bated breath — as softly as he can manage, which is still too intense for your liking. still brimming with desperation, something carnal, like he wants to pour his everything into the kiss but knows he shouldn’t. he tastes like tobacco.

and it’s over.

you know it is, because your senses are flooded with him, him, him. nothing but him, the strands of his raven hair ghosting your skin, his greedy tongue licking along your teeth, large palms resting on your spine and the back of your head. you’re pliant, surrendering yourself to his touch. he’s cradling you like he loves you, and you feel like you’ve done something awful, because you have.

because you’ve let him come so close, again, invited him inside — inside of your home, your ribcage. and he won’t bother making a home for himself there, because it’s already waiting for him, untouched, between your fourth and fifth ribs.

you never bothered to get rid of it.

(that’s your sin.)

getō hums, muffled by your lips. he sounds pleased. he sounds like he’s been waiting for this for decades, and you suppose that he has. he murmurs praise that you do nothing but swallow down.

everything feels too perfect, too normal, and it’s too much, too much, too much. your lips pressed together, your chests pressed together, your noses meeting in a tender touch. you choke down the noise that threatens to push past your lips, and he kisses you like a starved man. like he’s trying to drown in you.

he only pulls away once he realizes that you’re crying, and by then it’s too late. his widening eyes don’t matter, your cold hands don’t matter, the tremble of your erratic heartbeat has never mattered less. he looks at you with remorse, and it doesn’t matter.

(he’s yours, again, and you’re his.

you can’t stop crying.)

”… i’m sorry.”

in the background, you hear the sound of gentle whispers, an ending scene. the men are talking to each other, speaking softly, and your eyes burn with tears. geto catches one of them with his forefinger, and leans forward to plant a kiss against your nose. chaste, this time. still mumbling apologies.

it doesn’t matter, because a tiny sob still breaks past your throat — and you know the sound must hurt him.

you hate that. you hate that you always hurt him, hate that you care, hate that you feel nothing but guilt when he’s around. you hate the movie still playing to your left, hate that he doesn’t hate it, hate that he loves you. hate that you love him, that you probably always will.

you hate that you blink up at him with glassy eyes, swallow down a shaky breath, and kiss him again. hate that it’s still the only thing you know how to do well.

he doesn’t pull away, only biting back a noise of surprise — but he makes sure to kiss you gently, as if you’re made of porcelain, slow and tender, cradling you closer still. he wipes away your tears with his thumb, one after another, and you hate yourself because everything feels so deliriously right.

somewhere in the back of your mind, you know that what you’re playing is a losing game.

(he’s yours, and you’re his. it’s already set in stone.)

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luveline · 2 days

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I love your KBD universe, I know that Beth is having a hard time with being the weird kid and I just have to say as a lover of weird things and people I would love to see something where Bethie comes home from school happy to have met someone who LOVES that she’s a little weird!

dad!steve and his weird girls <3 mom!reader, 1k

When you get home from work with the big kids in tow, Steve’s gonna kiss you stupid. With baby Wren gurgling on his tummy and less-baby Dove sitting by his head where he lays on the couch, he’s never been this happy. He’ll be happier when the big girls are home, but for now, he’s snug as a bug, treated by his second youngest to a buffet of affection.

“Love you,” Dove says, kissing his cheek for the tenth time in the last two minutes. He can’t stop laughing.

“I love you, too!” he says, shifting his hand to give Wren some more room.

“Love you, dad,” Dove says.

“I know, baby, I know. Thank you for the kisses, you’re so nice.”

Dove kisses him again. “You’re happy,” she says.

“So happy. Can I get another kiss, you think?”

He turns into her. She’s sitting too high to be cuddled; all Steve can do is take in her sweetness. He can’t believe how quickly her babyhood has passed into toddlerhood, and she’s been sort of a nightmare, but she’s also his little girl. She’s your daughter, her sisters’ sister. She was always going to be lovely, and Steve feels it like a loving punch as she noses at his ear. “Daddy,” she laughs, “you’re too warm.”

“I’m blushing, babe, I’m getting all these nice kisses!” He laughs like an idiot and decides he must hug her, pulling his arm up and scooping her into his chest.

She groans in annoyance before she realises what he’s doing, “Hug!” she says excitedly.

“Hug!” he echoes, wrapping his arm around her. She’s starting to look less like a baby and more like a little tiny kid, which he hates and loves at the same time. “Aw, I love you, Dovey.”

The door clatters open. Wren jumps at the sound, hiding her face in Steve’s neck, to which he gives a good back rubbing. “It’s okay, bubby, it’s just your mommy. Don’t be silly, huh? Just mommy. You’re gonna be happy when she turns the corner.”

“Shoes,” you’re saying from the door, though Steve can’t see you, he can tell you’re smiling. “Shoes, Beth, then you can tell dad.”

“Daddy, we’re home!” Avery shouts.

“I can hear you, babe!” he shouts back, not unkindly.

“Dad, I have something to tell you!” Beth shouts.

Steve hoists himself up into a sitting position, two babies in his arms, knowing you’ll know he’s laid down all day from the mess of his hair alone but not trying to hide it. You can do whatever you want on your vacation days, you’d teased. Just make sure you feed the kids.

“Hi,” you say, appearing in the doorway, two balls of energy at your legs that bolt for Steve the second they see him.

“Girls, I don’t have long enough arms,” he says, trying to cuddle them all, even though it’s impossible.

He finds himself suddenly relieved of the second youngest. Dove might love her father, but she adores her mother, and she hasn’t seen you all day —she slinks down out of his hold and through the mess of her sisters to grab at you, to which you gratefully receive her, pulling her up to station on your hip. “Hi, gorgeous,” Steve hears you say. Avery pushes him back, climbing into his lap with a happy sigh. “Miss me today? I missed you,” you ask sweetly.

“What did you want to tell me, Beth?” Steve asks curiously, grinning as Avery makes herself comfortable on his thigh, her arm wrapping behind his neck. He’s happy to see everybody else so happy, even if it’s hectic.

Beth beams up at him with her brightest smile in weeks. She’s been having such a hard time at school, Steve wondered if he could start homeschooling, coming home upset nearly every other day. It isn’t fair. His relief that she’s had a good day is palpable.

“Dad, there’s a new girl! Her name is Francesca and she’s got the same birthday as me and guess what!”

“What?” he asks.

“She said she likes being weird!” Beth’s eyes glow shiny with joy. “Cos Hilly called me weird, and she said she likes being weird. She said we can be best friends.” Beth hits his knee in her excitement. “She liked me, dad.”

“Why wouldn’t she like you?” he asks, wondering how old he’ll have to be before he stops tearing up at Beth’s good heart. He blinks quickly to dispel any tears before they can gather. “Her name is Francesca? When did she move? Do you think she wants to come for dinner?”

Your laugh is a snort. “Steve.”

“What? Friends come for dinner. Best friends! Did you speak to her mom?” he asks you.

“I didn’t see her.”

“Don’t worry, Beth, I’ll speak to her in the morning. We’ll see if they want to come for dinner or go swimming or something.”

Beth’s smile gets wider, “Really?”

“Yeah, really!” He gives Avery a little shake. “Did you meet Francesca?”

Avery nods. “She’s pale and she has big hair. Curly hair, too.” Her voice is a tad scratched, perhaps from the cold out.

Steve lets his weight fall into the arm, cautious not to squish your baby, a grin on his face to rival Beth’s. She gets the memo and climbs up, claiming that last bit of space under the baby to hug his stomach. He tries to wrap them all up, gurgly Wren, exuberant Beth, and poor cold Avery. “You coming?” he asks you.

There’s dinner to make. You ignore it, crossing the mess of the living room to flop down on the couch next to them all. Steve lifts his face in that way you always recognise, and is pleased as punch when you peck him quickly.

You don’t realise how Steve thinks of you, he’d say. Don’t realise he wants another kiss, then another, that you’re on his mind when you aren’t there, and dominate it when you are. He loves his babies, but he loves you too. He wants another kiss.

“Steve,” you scold lightly, surprised as he presses two kisses to the corner of your mouth.

“Sorry. Beth, tell me more about Francesca. What did she say exactly?”

Beth takes a deep breath.

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noiryinn · 19 hours

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game over!

pairing(s): nagi seishiro x male reader

summary: when a game of fortnite leads to sex

warnings: amab!reader, top!reader, bottom!nagi, anal sex, crying, begging, riding, belly bulge, edging, overstimulation, reader is kinda mean, slut shaming, (minors + fem aligned dni, all characters aged up)

word count: 1.1k

a/n: first smut, enjoy! (kinda rushed and bad)

you were watching your boyfriend play his video games, as always. it annoyed you a bit, but you saw how happy he was playing them so you never said anything.

“hey, nagi?” you called out to him while laying on his bed. “yeah?” he replied, not even glancing away from his monitor. you really didn’t know what to say, you just called his name to he would pay some attention to you. your sex life has been kinda dry, so you just said the first thing that came to mind.

“if you win that game i’ll give you a blowjob,” you blurted out before quickly regretting it. you couldn’t take it back though, since he turned his head to look at you, “yeah?” nagi seemed to be challenging you. “and if i lose?” he asked. well, you didn’t think this far ahead so you just blurted something out again, “you have to ride me.”

honestly, it didn’t seem like a fair deal, but he took it anyway. “fine, deal.” you blinked in surprise, you never expected him to actually take it, knowing how much he hates doing the work himself. nagi was a pillow princess, there was no doubt. every time he laid there and looked pretty. a part of you really want this, maybe as pay back for the numerous amount of times he always payed attention to games and not you.

…

spoiler alert, he didn’t win the game.

…

“f-fuck! [name]!” the white haired boy whined in a pathetically high pitched voice. his eyes glossed over in pleasure as tears pricked the corner of his eyes. “please— ah…no- no more…” he begged. his moves were sloppy and uncoordinated, drool dribbled down his chin. his face was puffy and it was clear as day that he was wildly embarrassed.

“oh, seishiro…you’re getting sloppy, don’t tell me this is your limit? poor baby, is it nap time already?” you mocked him lightly. you couldn’t help laugh how he became such a overstimulated mess in just a few minutes. a small frown played on his face, “i’m not— agh…done yet!” nagi managed to slip out. “good. then prove it.” you condescendingly smirked at him, now it was your turn to sit and enjoy the show.

you fully took in the sight of your boyfriend. his ears and face flushed a mad red. he looked like he was nearing his limit, but didn’t want to admit it yet. the room echoed with the sounds of skin slapping and moans. you loved the sound of squelching when he sank onto your dick. there was even a outline of where it was on his stomach.

with a huff, he messily picked up his pace, drooling all over himself as he made pitiful attempts to keep up the pace. “is that all you can do?” you sneered, “shut up! i can— ngh…do more!” he made a weak jab to insult you back, but really he could barely think at all.

nagi was so perfect. the way he handled your dick, moaned, his facial expressions, you loved it. his pride made him refuse to admit that he was at his breaking point. you wanted to toy with him a bit, so you put your hands on either side of his hips and pushed him down onto your dick. his toes curled and his back arched in the most erotic way possible as he let out a lewd moan.

nagi’s head threw back and he tried to cover his mouth to stifle his moan when your dick hit his prostate in just the right area. you could feel his cute little hole clench around you. he was swearing up a storm under his breath, breathless ‘fucks’ and ‘shit’ rolled out his mouth as he kept babbling.

“i wanna…come ughh— please” he whined and begged as warm tears of pleasure rolling down his cheeks. “awh, already? but i was just starting to have some fun…” you pouted, “but hold it in, will ya?” you asked him. “i can’t, mnghh…[name] you’re being mean!” he said weakly. “you can’t what? use your words…” you looked at him in his eyes.

he stared at you back with that same frown on his face, it looked like he was choking back words. you waited for him to speak, wondering what he had to say. “i can’t…ride you anymore— ah!” you slammed him down on your dick again, “you’re too big…nghh…” nagi kept rambling on, “you’re— so mean…just fuck me already…please…?” he gave you a pleading look and you sighed. “looks like poor baby can’t ride me anymore. don’t worry, i’ll take it from here” you teased him one last time before switching the position you two were in.

nagi laid on the bed, his face having a fucked out expression, both of his legs wrapped around your waist. you barely gave him a moment to recollect his thoughts when you sharply thrusted into him, knocking the wind out of nagi’s lungs. you pounded deeply into his hole. the sound of his moans sounding almost pornographic.

nagi could barely think, let alone form words. all he could do was just lay there and moan. “you are such a whore for dick, seishiro.” you smirked, he made a desperate attempt to shake his head no, but he was too fucked out to actually do anything. “what a little slut, bet you lost that game on purpose huh?” you whispered in his ear. his only response was a little whimper.

you were surprised when nagi tightened his legs around you, rutting against you for any sort of friction, for you to go deeper. you smiled at this and leaned in to kiss him deeply. he lazily wrapped his arms around your neck. when you two let go to breathe, he whispered something softly in your ear, “mm…[name] i love you…so please, don’t go easy on me, okay…?” in that moment, what kept you from holding back (barely anything), just shattered in that moment.

…

“[name]~ my back hurts” nagi grumbled. you chuckled softly at that, “you were the one who wanted me to go hard, seishiro. don’t make a fuss.” he just responded with a petulant look. you two were on the bed looking at each other, sweaty and breathless. even when nagi was a mess he was beautiful. “you were being mean too…” he complained. “sorry, i couldn’t help it when you were being such a brat…” you remarked.

“ugh…that was such a hassle…i don’t know why we did it…” nagi mumbled while sinking into the bed. “you agreed to the bet!” you groaned, rolling your eyes at his complaint. for an athlete, he was sure unmotivated. “can you wash me? i feel gross…” he asked with puppy-dog eyes. it wasn’t unusual for him to ask you to do things like that. “okay, okay. i’ll carry you.” you sighed, unable to resist his adorable look. though it was a bit of work, you didn't mind doing it for nagi.

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lunajay33 · 3 days

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Change Part.5

•🎀🩰🩷•

Summary: Y/n is a loner but loves ballet but her family doesn’t have enough money for her to dance at the studio, Daryl is a redneck who hates people and prefers bikes, until one day these two run into eachother and their lives change drastically, will Daryl toughen her up? Will y/n soften Daryl? Or both? How will things go when people start coming back from the dead

Pairing: Young Daryl Dixon x f!reader

A/n: This is going to be a series, it’s gonna start with how they met eachother and their lives before the apocalypse, eventually it’ll blend with twd story line!!

Part.4

•Masterlist•

“I wanna see ya dance”

“Are you sure it’s kind of embarrassing”

“Show me Angel” he smiled with encouragement

I turned on Swan lake music and did the best I could from what I was capable of, I tried avoiding eye contact, this was my Daryl Dixon I didn’t wanna see him laughing in my face over something in so passionate about, but he never did make fun of me and he never would

“My ballerina, always so graceful”

He wrapped his arms around my waist after I was done pulling me down onto the bed on our apartment in Atlanta, I straddled his legs looking down at him

“I got a surprise for ya”

“Oh do you now?” I smirked thinking he was trying to turn the mood around

“A guy I work with at the shop has a girlfriend, she runs a dance studio and she got classes for adults on the weekends, got a discount so ya could go, if ya want” his face became red which I always adored my heart swelled for him

“DARYL! Are you serious you did that for me” I yelled excited

“Anything for my angel”

“Kids I need everyone to stay completely silent okay, everyone sit along the wall of the windows and don’t move, we will stay until your parents come in 20 minutes” I said calmly as to not scare them they were only young

They listened and we were all sit in silence, my thoughts are in over drive what the hell was happening something was incredibly wrong how was I suppose to leave with those people out there like that and what about where Daryl was

Parents filled in quickly in panic dragging their kids out until finally it was just me, I took out my cell phone dialing Daryl praying he’d answer, my hands were sweaty my chest felt tight

“Angel you okay?” Daryl answered

“Daryl somethings wrong, people are coming back from the dead and eating each other please come get me I’m scared” I heard the tremble in my voice

“Don’t ya move im coming”

He was there in less than 10 minutes running into my classroom grabbing my by my shoulders and wrapping his arms around me tight holding me like the world was ending…….maybe it was

“We gotta go, we’ll go home and get our stuff but Merle’s packin some supplies fer us to get outta town ya gotta be strong” he said wiping my tears away

“Okay just don’t let go of me”

“Never”

We got home and I was quick to fill up a duffel bag with spare clothes, family jewelry, pictures of Daryl and I, baby clothes I had started buying, prenatals and just as I was about to leave I looked into the spare room seeing my Ballet collection, the slippers were still as pretty as the day Daryl gifted them to me, I laid them on the top of my belongs in the bag and zipped it up

“My lil Ballerina ya ready to go?” Daryl asked gently running his hand down my arm

“I don’t wanna leave this is our home, where we were gonna raise this baby”

“We will be alright, cause as long as I got ya with me, I’m home” Daryl didn’t get extremely soft and sentiment with me but when he did I knew it was serious

“Okay, I’m ready” he held my hand tight leading me to his truck with his motorcycle strapped in the trunk, Merle hot on our tail driving his own bike, over the years Merle had gotten a bit more use to me but Merle was Merle he was still an ass and sometimes liked to take his frustrations out on me

“Where are we going?” I asked leaning my head on his shoulder trying to distract myself from the screams and blood all over the streets

“That place I took ya up at the quarry where…….where we were first together”

“Daryl where are you taking me?” I asked as there was a cloth around my eyes as he drove me to god knows where

“Told ya it’s a surprise”

After some more time driving the truck stopped, Daryl got out coming to my side to help me out

“Can I please see now?”

He untied the cloth and what I saw made my heart melt, it was a tent over looking a serene blue quarry lake, he brought me inside the tent where he had a tons of blankets and a picnic basket in the middle

“D you did all this for me?” I asked looking at him with tears in my eyes

“ ‘Course Angel, after what ya did get me, patchin me up, making me feel safe, wanted to give ya somethin back”

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders something so new, after Daryl had that incident with his dad we had gotten a lot closer

“I appreciate this so much but you didn’t have to do something back for me, I help you because I want to because……..I love you” he was silent and tensed making me nervous, we’d talked about how he didn’t have much comfort and love growing up

“I think I love ya too, if this is what love feels like” he had the faintest smile

“Soooo would you be my boyfriend?” I asked biting my lip

“Definitely” he smirked as he backed me onto the blankets laying me down so he was hovered over me

“I wanna be with you Daryl, I’m ready”

When we got to the quarry all the memories came rushing back as I looked out over the quarry, a group was already set up there from Atlanta and they were fine with taking the three of us, so after we set up Daryl’s and my tent I came here to try and get my thoughts together

“Ya okay Angel?” Daryl asked as he stood behind me wrapping his arms around my waist resting them on my tiny bump

“Just thinking about or first time here, how nervous you were, how much I realized I really love you” I said leaning back against him letting out all my stress knowing he had me

“Remembered how beautiful ya were, knew ya were the one fer me”

“How beautiful I was? Have I gotten ugly with age?” I teased

“Nah ‘course not, I got the hottest wife in the world and I ain’t letting ya go” he said as he placed a kiss to the top of my head

“We should get back, get settled for the night” I said as I held his hand scared of those “walkers” that could be wander up here

“I know it’s scary but ya gotta stay relaxed, ya know the doctor said stress is bad for the baby”

“I’m trying it’s just……a lot” we made it back to the camp and others were sitting around fires as the sun was slowly setting

I slouched next to Dale letting out an exhausted sigh letting the heat from the fire wash over me, soon Daryl came sitting by me, throwing a blanket over my shoulders and handing me a protein bar he must have packed

“You okay sweetie?” Dale asked, I only just met him but he was obviously very caring

“Oh yeah I’m fine, just a long day, glad we could get out of the town in time”

“So how do you two know eachother?” Andrea asked from across the fire

I looked at Daryl knowing he is a closed off person, being with him since we were young I forget about how he interacts with others but I understood why, he nodded giving me the okay

“We met in highschool, and have just been together since, our science teacher paired us up and changed my life for the better” I smiled remembering how cute I thought he was

“That’s so sweet, you seem like you’re perfect for eachother” Amy chimed in

I just smiled feeling Daryl squeeze my hand under the blanket so the others didn’t see, he was never big on pda

I ate my protein bar and started to feel all the stress from the day come crashing down on me so I leaned over to whisper to Daryl

“Can we go to bed?” he nodded standing up alerting the others we were leaving

“Ya better be careful” Ed said with a menacing feeling, he scared me he had this aura about him that made my skin crawl

Daryl and I walked off to our tent, where Merle was sat on a chair infront of his tent right next to ours

“Yall get nice and chummy with the camp, share fun camp stories” he mocked

“Come on Merle we need to get use to this no point in making enemies of the only people that might still be around” I said not wanting to deal with Merle’s antics right now

“Yer lucky we even helped ya out bitch” he groaned

“Shut yer damn mouth Merle” Daryl opened the tent and we left Merle to stew in his usual anger

I plopped down on the air mattress Daryl had blown up and laid blankets on, he rummaged through my bag to get my pajamas but he stopped

“Ya brought em?” He asked holding up my ballerina slippers

I don’t know why but I blushed

“Well yeah, it was the first thing you have to me” he smiled taking out my pajamas and handing them over

As I changed he took off his shirt and pants, pulling on some sweatpants, we crawled into bed laying in silence for some time

“Do you think this will all be over by the time the baby comes in 6 months?” I asked as he traced patterns around my belly

“I don’t know Angel, but we’ll figure something out, now get some sleep”

“Okay class keep working on your test I’ll be right back” I said in a hurry as I raced off to the bathroom, just making it in time to throw up all my lunch

This didn’t feel like the usually stomach bug but what else could it be……..that’s when I remembered the last time Daryl and I were together, he had just got home from work and he was so worked up from his shift he didn’t even care to use a condom and just wanted to let out his stress

Now here I was after school picking up pregnancy tests from the drug mart, wondering which one would be the most accurate

“Need help?” I looked to my side to see a beautiful woman with locks in her hair and darker skin complexion

“Yes please, I’ve never had to pick before”

She handed me a rapid test in a pink box smiling like she knew how this felt

“I know what it’s like, had the same look you have now before I had my boy, you’ll be okay”

“Thanks, I’m y/n by the way, I haven’t seen you around before are you new here?”

“I’m just passing through and I’m Michonne”

“Well it’s nice to meet you, and thank you for this but I should probably go test this out”

“No problem, good luck girl”

I got home before Daryl quick to pee on the stick, waiting for the results, the box said 5 minutes and those 5 minutes were the most stressful longest minutes of my life

The timer went off, time to see if I was really pregnant, I took the test with shaky hands and flipped it over……….2 lines I was pregnant, I thought I’d be scared and knowing Daryl’s past I wasn’t sure how he’d feel but to have a little baby with the person I love most in this world just felt….right

“Angel I’m home” I heard Daryl call from the front door

I quickly put the test in my back pocket and left to greet him, nervous of how he’d feel

“Hey ya okay?” He asked always reading me like a open book

“I have something I need to tell you”

“What are ya okay?”

“I’m fine, I just want you to know that this is what I want but if you don’t want this then I don’t know I understand why you’d leave but……”

“Ya know I’d never leave ya, now tell me what’s going on, yer freakin me out”

I took the test out of my back pocket and handed it to him, his confusion very clear, he had no idea what he was holding

“What’s this?”

“A pregnancy test, it’s positive”

He didn’t say anything he just kept looking at the test, I could see the thoughts rushing in his head

“Please say something” I whimpered feeling the emotions build up in my throat

He wrapped his arms around my waist picking me up and spinning me around

“I love ya, and I’m gonna love this baby ya hear me”

I woke up to the sun shinning through the tent giving a warm glow around us, remembering the dream of tell Daryl I was pregnant, ever since seeing those people ripping flesh apart I’ve been reminiscing a lot about the past, maybe it’s because there might be a chance that I’d never get that life back, the life I fought so hard for with Daryl, the one I craved and now it felt like it was being ripped away what if this changed things between us

I rolled over feeling the bed beside me was cold and empty, but Daryl was usually an early riser, I changed into some shorts and a more fitting short sleeve shirt, hauling on one of Daryl flannels over it, leaving the tent I saw Merle and Daryl sat around a little fire between our tents

I sat beside Daryl in a chair they must have gotten from the camp

“Here have some of this” Daryl said passing me so deer jerky he packed

“Ya okay?” He asked after I hadn’t spoken for some time

“I’m fine, just been thinking about a lot of stuff”

“Worlds not about you anymore sweetcheeks, get over yerself or ya ain’t gonna last” Merle said scoffing as if this was such a normal thing to happen to the world

“Merle can you just give me a break for once” I sighed rubbing my eyes

“Stop being a princess, may have worked before when Daryl was there to protect ya all the time from the big bad world but ya gotta suck it up” it’s kind of true, I was a bit more sensitive than others but I just didn’t like confrontation and if there ever was Daryl was there like my big strong knight

“Merle we ain’t going through this again” Daryl groaned obviously sick of Merle as well

“I’m gonna go for a walk” I stated getting up to get away from this growing tension

“Take yer knife” Daryl said handing it over

I walked through the surrounding woods enjoying the silence away from Merle, the only sound I could hear was the gentle chirps of birds littered in the trees above

I found a fallen tree sitting against it, little dandelions surrounding the base, I picked a bunch putting them in my pockets, knowing they were edible and might go along way with the group

In the past I would’ve never thought this little yellow “weed” was safe to consume but after a nature survival lesson from Daryl I was basically caught up on everything you could know about the woods

“And why exactly do I have to know survival tips about the wild?” I asked looking at Daryl like he was crazy as we walked through trails for a date he planned

“If yer my girl now ya gotta be able to take care of yerself ya never know what might happen”

“Okay if you say so” I said giggling

He crouched down by a patch of dandelions picking one out and tucking it behind my ear

“Every part of them are edible, roots stem flower” he said continuing to walk

“Really but aren’t weeds bad?”

“Not these ones, trust me spending lots of time out here I’ve had to eat a fair few”

“I…….im sorry” I hated knowing he had to struggle with a neglectful family

“Ain’t yer fault……..ya know my mother woulda loved ya” he rarely talked about her but I knew what happened to her

“Really, that would’ve been nice to meet her, see the woman who made the sweetest guy I’ve ever met”

“That’s why she’d like ya, sweet girl, and because ya love me more than I deserve”

I grabbed his bicep stopping him and turning him towards me

“Don’t speak like that D, you deserve all the love the world can give, ya wouldn’t like if I talked about myself like that would you?” He lowered his head shaking it

“Nah guess not”

“Come on mountain man, show me the rest of your tips” I said and his face exploded in red

“NO NOT LIKE THAT, god Dixon you’re going to be the death of me” I said pushing him forward on the trail screaming internally as he laughed

After spending about half an hour sitting here I got up heading back to camp, when I turned around I heard a groan and leaves crunching it was a walker only steps away from me, I stepped back tripping over a root landing hard in my tailbone, not realizing the walker was right infront of me falling ontop of me, it jaws snapping in my face, using all the strength I had to hold it back, I lifted my leg up kicking it over and off me, quickly taking out my knife driving it through its head ceasing its movement, I looked down over my first splattered with blood, the adrenaline still coursing through me I ran back to the camp past everyone to where Daryl was still sitting by our tent

“Angel what the hell happened” he asked standing up looking at me with horror

“A walker…..” I gasped

He ran his arms all over my body checking for bites, I tried to reassure him I wasn’t bite but for his peace of mind I let him continue

“Ya killed it?” Merle asked from next to us

“Guess I’m not that weak after all”

Part.6

Taglist: @pinchofthetwd @bigbaldheadname @strawberrykiwisdogog @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @l0kilaufeys0n7 @welcumetomyescape @severelykinky @tesfayera @daryldixmedown @secretsicanthideanymore @lettersfromyourlove @mordilwen-of-mirkwood @secretsicanthideanymore @superbowlisgay @pollito-chicken @minnie-min @writer-ann-artist

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kit-williams · 23 hours

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Legion Mother: Lost in the Warp

Who want's some Angst?

@bispecsual @egrets-not-regrets @moodymisty @bleedingichorhearts @liar-anubiass-blog

@thevoidscreams @barn-anon

as always thank you to @squishyowl for the dividers

The Mother of the Fourth Legion was in despair. Penelope was wailing as Robute Guilliman, her brother in law, had told her that her husband... Perturabo was dead. She knew he wouldn't lie to her... she was wailing as her attendants had to guide her back to her room.

Her adopted sons were not surprised at how she broke down at the news... they knew their mother loved their father... father had risen her from serfdom to his wife to Perturabo it only made sense given how utterly genuine she was with him. And the Captain watched as she had trembled, swayed on her feet, falling to the floor and weeping. But the Captain now snarled at the Primarch of the Thirteenth when he retracted what he said... but he realized quickly... the Iron Mother wouldn't have been able to handle the truth.

"What do I tell Ajax?" She managed to blither out between her sobs.

"None of that now my lady. You have to lead the legion now." The head attendant said holding her tightly like a mother would, "But first you must mourn." She said softly... as to them... Perturabo was suppose to outlive her... she was content with that... she was suppose to be the first of probably a long string of wives... Penelope was okay with that... she had told him that all she wanted to do was to bring him happiness.

"My Bo... my Bo..." Penelope whimpered as her makeup was running from the heavy tears rolling down her cheeks. The shock of it all running through her... perhaps later she would apologize to her sons at her reaction...

Nelly laid in her bed feeling the migraine build behind her eyes as she couldn't stop herself from bursting into tears. "Get... get me my box..." She says sitting up off to try one last hope. Her Bo was a smart man... an emergency communicator... she picked up the delicately made iron sea shell. She prayed... to what? She just prayed that he wasn't dead... "Bo..."

Demon World of Medrengard

A hateful fortress world of cruelty and industry... black spires licked the white sky and black sun but they ran so deeply into the molten core of the planet. The Demon Primarch's hatred could be felt upon the wind... his hate was enough for thousands of lifetimes. Yet there was some hatred for himself at what he had become... he was stronger than this and in a moment of weakness... a very human moment he did not want to die. His sons did not wish to lose their father and so he was now a blight upon this reality.

"Bo..." A voice sniffled... one he had not heard in a long long time. It made him inhale for the first time in millennia. The hateful winds stopped in their tracks leading to a quiet on the planet for the first time since it's rebirth as a demon world. He pulled away from his workbench slowly as the Lord of Iron's eyes drifted over to some forgotten rotting corner. "Bo please... you can't be dead." The voice sobbed cracking in a way that he was familiar with, he approached with quiet steps. His eyes looked down at a dust covered sea shell made of iron... rusted except for the pearl.

"Perturabo!" She wailed with palatable grief as it had to be true. Her husband was gone... Olympia was gone... everything she held dear was gone... all she had left was the fraction of the legion and Ajax. She had to be like Iron... she had to be there for her sons and his sons... she had to... she had too...

"Nelly...?" A voice... no not just a voice his voice spoke over the device.

She threw herself back over to the device, "Perty!"

Perturabo looked down at the rusted shell in his hand... he had all but forgotten it was there. His tongue licked over sharpened teeth as his bitterness started to gather... this was a trick... how dare they. He internally seethed at the thought of Fulgrim or Magnus or one of the petty gods using his beloved's voice against him. Still the winds of Medrengard remained calm... and that near oppressive hate was lifted for a moment causing all his scions upon the planet to turn their gaze toward his fortress. "Bo?"

"Where are you?" His voice spoke over the line as she was holding her breath holding the hands of one of her attendants and when he spoke she let it out.

"Olympia... Bo... Bo... It's gone! Please what happened?" She begged.

Before he could answer he heard the doors open and Captain Antioch speak, as Nelly had a habit of leaving the line open, Perturabo remembers appointing him to protection of the Legion Mother... he was one of the few sons truly happy for their marriage, "Legion Mother we must go. Lord Guilliman will see us at Mcragge."

"Antioch! I've gotten in contact with Perturabo, he's alive!" She said so relieved but Perturabo could taste it... he could taste the worry... he could taste the fear. The mother knew not what the son was told.

"Penelope. I will see you soon." Was all he said before killing the line. And just like that the Lord of Iron was roused... the great iron beast rearing it's head once more... few things in the galaxy could force him into action... and if this truly was his Penelope then there would a celebration to be had... for the Iron Mother had returned which also meant his son was alive as well... but Perturabo held any excitement at bay for disappointment was a taste he knew too well. For if this was not his beloved wife... his wrath would be ten fold.

Warsmith Castor was called to his father's side. His yellow eyes looking up at him as no words were exchanged after his greeting and he waited in attention. "Castor. Go to Olympia I need you to confirm something." Castor simply nodded not daining to question his father but Perturabo simply added. "I need to to confirm if your Mother is back."

"Mother?" His yellow eyes turned brown for a moment as Caster was but a battle brother when Perturabo had married Penelope and still had to prove himself verses the trusted battle brothers that were assigned to be her personal guard.

"Yes. I got a message from Penelope... go to the system and confirm if it is her. Do not engage if it is."

"And if it is not her my lord?"

"Drag them back to Medrengard in iron. If it is her ship... then..." There was an unsaid thought... we will find her bones.

I know a secret... The Demonette giggled as Fulgrim opened one of his many eyes in a post orgy haze.

"What secret do you know..." He said as his eyes flashed purple as the wail of sadness rushed through him. "OH! Dearest Sister in law nelly has returned! Oh... oh... " He licked his lips with cruel intent, "We certainly must throw her a welcome back party!"

I know a secret... the blue bird crooned as Magnus looked over and he listened to his brother Perturabo... and then a relieved voice of... "Penelope..." He said as his single eye widened a part of him... some deep down part knew that she was better off dead and not seeing what the world had become.

They are trying to head to Mcragge... the demonic bird crooned. "Who knows?" Magnus pressed.

Everyone

#warhammer 40k #perturabo #perturabo x oc #oc: Penelope #warhammer 40k x oc #x oc #female oc #primarch #iron warriors

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makethatelevenrings · 1 day

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Angel by the Wing - THIRTY-THREE

chapter warnings: vomiting, morning sickness

Series Masterlist (Mobile Masterlist)

It was an average morning.

Rock music floated through the house coupled with the sounds of pots and pans banging around and you were bent over a toilet, breathing deeply through your nose and out through your mouth as nausea wracked your body.

“That’s good. Nice deep breaths.” Jake had popped his head into the bathroom to ask how many eggs you wanted when he found you bent over the sink with your hands clutching the sides of the counter. At first he thought you were in pain, but then the murderous glare you shot him when he asked if you were okay answered that question.

Now your hair was pulled away from your face, a cool washcloth pressed against the back of your neck, and a soothing hand ran along the length of your spine as you dry heaved over the rippling water.

“I fucking hate this,” you bit out. Tears pricked the backs of your eyes and you tilted your face to press against your forearm so he wouldn’t see you tearing up. Jake adjusted the washcloth so it wouldn’t fall off and scooted closer to you.

“I’m sorry, angel. I wish I could fix this for you.” If there was one thing Jake had learned since entering this relationship, it’s that he couldn’t stand to see you or Bradley like this. He hated being helpless. He was a fixer. He wanted to soothe your aches and remove anything that made you feel gross.

But he had also helped put you in this situation.

“Hey, hey,” he shushed you as you let out a pathetic whine. “Rooster is making some ginger tea right now and then we’re going to move to the couch. Set you up with some toast and applesauce and a bucket.”

“What if I puke on you?” you moaned dramatically.

“Darlin’, you’ve seen me and Rooster violently hungover. A little throw up won’t faze me.” You nodded in agreement with his statement and he took that as a good sign. Jake tentatively scooped you up and cradled you to his chest. Despite feeling sick as hell, you savored the feel of his warm skin under your cheek and pondered the possibility of them going shirtless every morning.

“How’s the patient doing, doctor?” Bradley asked when you emerged from the bedroom.

“‘M not playing sexy nurse right now,” you mumbled. Bradley chuckled and moved to help move some blankets over on the couch while Jake lowered you down onto the soft cushions. Jake hurried off to grab a bucket to place next to the couch while Bradley tucked one of the blankets around you and adjusted the washcloth to keep you cool. Skipper poked his head up over the back of the couch and then crawled over the pillows before he gently landed on the space between you and the cushion. The little cat curled up next to your stomach and laid his head on his paws, lazily flicking his tail while staring at Bradley in what some might call a threat.

“I’m trying to help her, dude,” Bradley muttered. The cat merely flicked his tail once more and extended a paw to lick at his fur.

And maybe show off his claws.

“Bucket,” Jake announced. “Plus tea and toast and whatever you want to watch on television. Please, please, don’t let it be Titanic.”

“Fuck you, it’s a masterful film.” But despite your protest, you settled on another classic. The boys knew better than to argue when the opening titles of Mamma Mia began. Jake instead settled in next to the bucket on the floor with his plate heaped with breakfast balancing on his knees. Bradley took up the rest of the couch by your feet. You nibbled on the toast that Jake handed you and absentmindedly pet Skipper with your other hand.

“Any plans for today?” Bradley asked once he was done destroying his mountain of food. Feeding two aviators was like turning on a garbage disposal and letting it run. You nudged his thigh with your foot and he put his plate on the coffee table so he could rub your feet.

“I was going to do laundry but I think I’m just going to rot instead,” you said. “I work at five so hopefully I feel human by then.”

“I got it,” Jake assured you. “I was going to mow the lawn and weed the garden but I can also make Roo do it too.”

“I’ll do it shirtless and everything,” your boyfriend said. He wiggled his brows salaciously and you pretended to gag.

“Thank you.” You ran your fingers through Jake’s fluffy hair. You loved it without the gel he typically wore. It stuck out in all directions thanks to the fact that he hadn’t brushed it after rolling out of bed and you appreciated how it made him look so soft.

“Our baby,” the boys intoned. They had taken to answering your thanks with a reminder that you were growing a baby inside of you. A baby that they had been very enthusiastic participants in creating.

Bradley grabbed Jake’s plate and his own and headed towards the kitchen to clean up after breakfast. You were transfixed with the movie on screen as the bachelorette night came on. Something sparkled in your gaze and Jake felt such a surge of want that it could have knocked him off his feet. Instead, he headed towards the bedroom where three overflowing hampers of laundry cluttered up the closet.

Dumping the clothes into one large pile, he set about sorting them into different piles so he didn’t end up with pink shirts from one of your stray red socks. He also made sure to check every pocket of pants and jackets thanks to the infamous “washing Bradley’s keys” incident. He found quite a few different packs of mint gum and ginger chews in your pockets and created a little pile for the future.

He picked up your jean shorts from a few days ago and heard the crinkle of paper. He tugged it out and flipped the paper. It was an envelope and he knew he should just place it on the dresser and let you deal with it but the hospital’s address was written in the corner. He shouldn’t read it. He knows better. But you had been avoiding talking to him and Bradley about something. They both could tell.

His fingers were extracting the letter before he could stop himself.

He unfolded the paper and found a bunch of letters filling the page. Jake didn’t understand a single word written except for two things.

Alleged Father: Seresin, Jacob

Probability of Paternity: 0%

Bile rose in his throat and burned along his tongue but he pushed it down. There was another paper behind it and he extracted the second page with numb fingers.

Alleged Father: Bradshaw, Bradley

Probability of Paternity: 99.99998%

Did Rooster know? Was that why he asked about leaving this place? Was that what you two whispered about? Was that why you shared smiles over Jake’s head, like he was outside of a joke?

What happens if the baby isn’t his? What happens if the baby isn’t his and you two decide you don’t need him? That you don��t want him? Can he handle that? Can he handle this dream being shattered?

His mom was just trying to help. Jennifer saw the possibility when he couldn’t. He was so fucking stupid.

Jake tossed the papers onto the dresser and headed into the closet to grab his duffle bag. He needed space. He needed time. He needed to figure things out.

You couldn’t push him out of your life if he walked out first.

Tag List:

@mizzzpink @xoxabs88xox @dreaminglandsworld @khaylin27 @loveforaugust @atarmychick007 @itsmytimetoodream @krismdavis @emma8895eb @startrekfangirl @hangmandruigandmav @lunamoonbby @sihtricswife @jstarr86 @drakelover78 @abaker74 @hardballoonlove @nerdgirljen @primroseluna

#bradley bradshaw x reader #jake seresin x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader x jake seresin #abtw #rooster x reader #hangman x reader

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tatterings · 3 days

Text

Lamentable is the Autumn Picker Content with Plums - Chapter 11 - A Fertile Flower of Hope

AO3 LINK HERE

Pairing: Astarion/Halsin

Rating: Explicit for the full work, this chapter is E for everyone.

Tags/warnings: Mention of sexual slavery.

Word count: 8,000 (this chapter)

Header art by @solmesia.

Work below the cut as well!

As the door opened, a slender hand thrust into the room, accompanied soon after by a loud thunk onto the floor below - Astarion's drowcraft armor. The door opened wider, creaking on its iron hinges, permitting the entrance of Jaheira. She was an imposing force, a hero of Baldur’s Gate, and though Astarion was not one for hero worship (besides, perhaps, Drizzt Do’Urden), her sheer presence oozed ‘respect me’; even when she barged in rooms essentially unannounced.

The vampire slipped from Halsin’s arms and turned to face the High Harper, taking a moment to compose the sheepish expression he would hate for her to see. Though Jaheira was no young woman anymore, her vision was as sharp as a panther’s prowling on a hunt. When Astarion met her eyes, Jahiera's expression was mixed. Her silver eyebrow arched in suspicion but also playfulness, and her wrinkled hands were perched on her hips.

"When you both caused a scene a bit ago, this popped out of thin air, right onto the war table. I suppose it is yours?" She said in her thick accent, gesturing with a wave towards the armor. "Plenty of poisons and daggers. Astarion, you may be a man after my own heart," she said, chuckling to herself.

"That would indeed be mine," Astarion said, crossing his arms with a huff, feigning dissatisfaction in the high Harper's approval of his well-stocked weaponry he kept close at hand. "But rather rude of you to insist was our fault for causing the scene."

Jaheira merely smirked and shrugged, "It is all the same. Regardless, you may resume your…activities" her words trailed off as she waved her hand and waggled her fingers in their direction, before turning on her heel and closing the door. Astarion turned to face Halsin, the tips of his ears flushed, and both the men laughed quietly to themselves over the silliness of the intrusion, the shattering of the tension which had their nerves tied in knots after their run-in with Raphael.

Astarion huffed a sigh and picked up the armor gingerly to don it. He patted about his bracers and the chest piece, verifying all his hidden daggers were still there. Gods bless the Drow for making armor with so many wonderful hiding spots for knives and poisons and other handy little accouterments that never failed to give him the upper hand in battle. He felt better with his armor on. No one needed to see the carvings on his back, to perceive him laid bare, exposed. To know about any poems or curses, or how he wanted to feel the wide, hot press of Halsin's hand across his back.

He cleared his throat softly, looking up at the druid, whose expression was one so full of... something. Tenderness perhaps? Curiosity? Either way, the soft way that he gazed at Astarion was almost unsettling.

"Well. Shall we.. get on with it? Do whatever needs to be done to help the boy?" Astarion asked, tilting his head as he spoke, studying the large man beside him. No need to dwell on the outburst nor Raphael nor infernal carvings. There was work to be done, and bastards to hurt. He was in a vindictive mood, feeling as though he had been flayed by the cambion for the world to see.

Halsin nodded somberly, and opened the door, gesturing to Astarion to go forward first. Astarion appreciated that the druid rarely questioned him when he wanted to move on to another topic.

***

The day had been full already, between Raphael’s appearance and his brief respite in Halsin’s’s arms, and yet it was only mid-afternoon. But mid-afternoon in these cursed lands was just as dark as a starless midnight. The Selunite priestess Isobel had provided a blessing to them earlier, barring the need to carry a moon lantern or torches to navigate the endless shadows. Still, Astarion wished he'd brought one all the same. Not that he was unnerved by the dark, since darkened alleyways and dimly lit taverns were his only companions for 200 years. And this magical darkness, though it was much heavier than a moonless night, opaque and unseeable, even with his darkvision - wasn't as unnerving as the concept of Halsin truly comprehending, perceiving those scars that lay underneath the circular keloid-scarring on his back.

They were close to where Halsin had last seen flowers in the shadow lands, and although the curse seemed lighter here somehow, shadows still lurked in the edges of the vision. Different shadows lurked in the periphery of Astarion's mind. His mind replayed on a loop the memories of Halsin’s tenderness and care in their… intimacy - Astarion hesitated to call it lovemaking - and the druid’s protectiveness when he had been stripped bare by Raphael. Both times was as though Halsin had held a torch to the scarred, dark insides of Astarion. While it had brought him warmth and comfort at the time, recalling the inescapable vulnerability of the moments they shared made his muscles tense and his stomach coil tightly. Astarion longed for a torch for the simple fact that he would prefer something to hold and grip onto, without cutting crescent moons into the palms of his hands as he clenched them into fists.

Halsin now was fully aware of all his scars, now that he had seen the physical ones. The ever-observant druid had already detected, as if he could smell them, the deeper and arguably more inescapable ones in his mind that he himself hated to acknowledge. It nagged at the back of Astarion's mind, lingering like a headache that throbbed despite all the herbs and potions one could take. Would Halsin still want him, once his own problems are resolved, and the scars of the shadows are lifted from this land and the druid’s deliciously strong-beating heart? Would he still want to deal with Astarion's scars - no, his wounds, for they still hurt him on a level far beyond his skin - after completing his 100-year quest to cleanse the shadows?

Astarion was skeptical that the answer could possibly even be "yes". If it was, Halsin was the most noble of the biggest fools. The vampire was lost deep within his thoughts when the sound of a child's laughter ripped him from the fog of emotions. Although, as Astarion heard it again echoing in the distance, he realized it was almost like a child's laughter. It had something deeper in it, a mixture of the sharp grating of steel on steel and the wail of a rabbit being crushed by a predator’s jaws. But it was still a laugh, and it seemed to echo around them. Only after swiveling on his heel, dagger in hand to survey his surroundings did he notice a small tiefling boy, whose head popped up over the windowsill inside a decrepit house.

Astarion hadn't even noticed the house, so lost he had been in his thoughts, his eyes cast low watching the ground beneath him. But the dilapidated house was rather large for the area, despite falling apart. The only life, if it was truly alive, was the boy peeking out at them from the paneless window. The vampire drew up beside Halsin, who had frozen in his tracks, and nudged the druid slightly.

Halsin had seen the blonde-haired boy long before Astarion had. He was staring at him, his thick bushy brows furrowed deeply as if in discernment. His lips were pursed, the lines on either side of his mouth etched deeply with concern.

"That’s him. Like an echo of Thaniel, remolded by the curse," he said, his voice wavering slightly as he spoke. “We need him, if we’re to put a stop to all of this." His words were under his breath, unintelligible by the boy, who emerged from the doorway of the ruined shack.

Astarion couldn’t hide his shock, his scrunched nose and narrowed eyes once he got a better look at the boy. Though still a child, he had been twisted by the curse, from the tips of his curling horns to the blackened and gnarled claws at his toes. It was so tragic that Astarion nearly laughed. A child. A picture of innocence. There was no justice in this world, truly.

"Thaniel?" Astarion asked, looking mostly at Halsin, but jerking his head of silver curls towards the boy. He slipped the dagger back into his drowcraft bracer. Sadly, not all problems can be cured through stabbing, he was learning.

"My name is Oliver. Not Thaniel," pouted the boy, crossing his arms and stamping one foot. Either dust or shadow spiraled into the air with the motion - Astarion wasn't sure which. It unnerved him, as the motes swirled around the boy’s body.

"Okay, Oliver," said Halsin, crouching as he stepped closer, his palms low to the ground and open - as someone would approach a fearful dog in an alleyway. "I am Halsin. I'm a friend of Thaniel's, and I think Thaniel was your friend too. Would you like to see him again? Play with him again?" Astarion's ears perked up at the slight crack to Halsin's voice as he questioned the boy. His soft, warm voice had an uneasy edge to it. An undercurrent of pleading, begging, that was so unusual for the typically stoic druid.

The boy growled and balled his little hands into fists at his side, shadows swirling behind him. Astarion eyed him down the bridge of his nose as he looked on. Could spirits be manifest by his very will alone?

“No!," Oliver shouted, stamping his foot into the ashes again, "Why should I go back to him? He abandoned me! But here... I’ve made a family, and I can play all the time! Just leave me alone." His words were a jumble, so fast in his squeaky voice, echoed by a deep monstrous growl that seemed to come from the shadows behind him.

"What a temper this little brat has," Astarion muttered to himself, sneering at the child. He was dirty, looked full of mange, and frankly too far gone to help. He was thankful Halsin didn't hear him - or didn't act like he did, anyway, and that Halsin knew how to handle delicate situations and people with smokepowder bombs for hearts. The boy paid Astarion no mind, and glared daggers at the druid who inched ever closer. Halsin had drawn so very close to the boy, within an arm's length. He kneeled and leaned onto one knee to remain at eye-level with the child.

"Oliver, nobody is making you leave. This is your home. But it is dark, empty… lonely," Halsin's voice dropped an octave lower at the last word, and if Astarion wasn't mistaken, nearly seemed to break with emotion. The druid cleared his throat, and continued. "I know your pain, I truly do. Thaniel is my friend also. I played with him, and he was ripped away from me, same as for you."

The boy seemed intent on Halsin's words, his eyes' eerie glow flickering with emotion. It was a stark contrast against his pale skin as the boy’s face contorted in multiple different ways over the next few moments. He seemed hurt, then confused, if the vampire were any judge of body language, and the cloud of thick tension settled between them all seemed to lighten. Astarion was agog at how Halsin knew exactly what to say in what moment. It was inarguably impressive. The boy remained silent, watching Halsin like the cornered dog, unsure if the hand reaching out towards it would feed it or beat it. "But you need not be alone any longer," Halsin said, continuing with the same tender tone, a soft smile causing the corners of his eyes to crinkle, "You need not invent friends. Thaniel is back, and is real. He is waiting for you."

Astarion stood silently, watching the boy. Waiting for his decision. He heard sniffles and little whimpers coming from the boy before Oliver finally peered up at Halsin, his glowing eyes brimmed with tears… and the faintest of smiles on his face.

"Fine, I’ll do it. it might be nice to be with him again," Oliver said, still with a hint of a pout. But now, his words lacked the echoed edge of the shadows. In fact, the whole boy lacked shadows overall, and had begun to glow a soft golden-green. And had also begun to levitate. His ruby eyes darted between the boy and Halsin, unsure of what to make of the scene, until Oliver disappeared in a dazzle of gold.

When Halsin turned to face Astarion, his smile was so bright, that the pale elf felt his expression alone might radiate enough joy to banish the shadow curse. The vampire tried to compose his face, to twist it from an expression of being completely perplexed, into one more neutral. Either way, Halsin didn't seem to notice; he was too busy nearly launching himself at Astarion. Both his large hands gripped onto the vampire's arms, gripping them firmly, giving them a little squeeze. Astarion couldn't help but grin back at the druid, whose smile was, quite frankly, contagious.

His grin was interrupted by the press of Halsin’s lips against his, and the pull of his body to Halsin’s bulk. Astarion kissed back tentatively, a bit confused but pleased nonetheless to be a recipient of Halsin’s affection despite the druid being so preoccupied by Thaniel and this boy recently. After a few exchanged breaths and gentle nibbles to Halsin’s lower lip, the druid pulled away and beamed down at Astarion.

"It's done at last," Halsin said, his voice ebullient with joy, "Soon the land will be unshrouded. With the oak father’s blessing, the shadow curse may soon be no more. Come, let us check on Thaniel and see how he fares."

Astarion was pulled into another bear hug, his face pressed to the cool leather of Halsin’s armor. He couldn't nod or shake his head in agreement or disapproval, with how tight of a hug Halsin had pulled him into. He was thankful that the thick muscle of the druid's chest and his armor obscured his lopsided grin.

******

Halsin was disappointed, but not surprised, that restoring Oliver and Thaniel together did not result in an immediate end to the Shadowcurse. Rarely in nature were things so easy to rectify; balance was something that was not easily attained, nor easily broken, nor easily restored.

As Thaniel had stirred, he had described to Halsin and the rest of the party how an anchor still held the shadows in place. Most of their excitement had faded when he revealed that the anchor itself was Ketheric Thorm. Nothing good comes easily, indeed, Halsin thought to himself bitterly. Even getting honey requires the risk of a few bee stings.

Still, he couldn't help but argue with the insistence of their group - starting with Karlach, echoed by Wyll and Gale, and later agreed to by Lae'zel and Shadowheart, that they should take the evening to celebrate Thaniel's recovery and the opportunity that is so tantalizingly close. Astarion, always one for luxury, had also immediately echoed the sentiment of deserving of a little treat.

Halsin couldn't disappoint the party with his nagging concerns; in the realm of shadows and fight against evil, every little victory should indeed be appreciated and celebrated. He'd offered to speak to Jaheira to get the Last Light Inn properly prepared for the celebration, and had left prior to any of the other adventurers. It was only a half-lie, because it would be prudent to inform the Harpers and others to expect their ragtag crew of adventurers. Being the bearer of good news was also always welcome, and he was sure that the Harpers would appreciate having a morale boost. But mostly, Halsin suspected that Jaheira could provide aid for some additional tasks he wanted to complete; he would also need solitude to do so.

***** Halsin's head jerked towards the entrance of the Inn as he heard jubilant chatter echo from outside. Karlach had arrived, he presumed, and was proven correct when she rushed into the inn with a cry of "Cold ale for all!", arm linked with Shadowheart. She had her tail wrapped around the wrist of a sheepish, blushing Wyll behind her. Lae'zel followed the three with an expression less severe and uninterested than typical. After her strode in Gale with his typical good-natured cheer, waving to Jaheira and the others. Astarion took up the rear, ending the party's entrance with less boisterousness and more subtlety. The adventurers had gotten the camp tidied up before joining Halsin; after several rounds of ale at the Inn, and a likely hangover, they wouldn't want to deal with it later, that was for certain.

Halsin had plenty of time for both of his side-tasks before nestling into the corner of the inn that appeared much like a library. One of his side-tasks had included acquiring a book regarding infernal pacts. Jaheira and her Harpers were clever and studious, and an old dusty book on just that topic was available for the druid to borrow. He hadn't intended to make a fuss of looking into the topic, but the choice was taken from him as soon as he felt Astarion lean over the armchair in which he had settled. The vampire's cool breath lingered on his cheek, and Halsin tilted his head gently to press his forehead against Astarion’s jaw. A slender finger came down on the tome and slowly slid across the lines as, Halsin assumed, Astarion read over his shoulder.

A scoff from the vampire ruffled his stray hairs, making them fall into his face. "Halsin, you’re not reading that on my behalf are you, darling?" Astarion said, nearly spitting his words as he’d shot upright after skimming only a few sentences. He placed his hand on his hip and sauntered over to sit in the unoccupied armchair beside Halsin, separated only by a tiny round table on which he placed a glass of wine. He arched an eyebrow at the druid, studying him down his nose.

Halsin shot him a crooked grin, shrugging his broad shoulders at the question. "No matter how long I live, I will always strive to remain a keen pupil. Only a fool would think he could absorb all knowledge of the world. There is always more, infinitely complex," he spoke with his hands, gesturing towards both the book and Astarion for his next words. "Additionally, it behooves us to prepare for the challenges ahead. Both yours and Wyll’s… Infernal dealings are one subject of which I have not studied deeply,” he admitted with another shrug. He had spent too much time trying to rectify his mistakes with the Shadowcurse to fuss with fiends in the hells below.

And he currently wanted to spend his time on a more worthwhile pursuit - chatting to Astarion. Halsin's fingers slid up the edge of the book and folded the page in half to mark his place. His hand jerked away as a small droplet of red wine landed on the page.

Astarion had sputtered in his wine cup and tried not to choke. Halsin's head tilted to the side as he watched the vampire's vexed expression. Though Astarion didn't need to breathe, this was the second time Halsin had somehow made him choke on his wine.

"Halsin, what in the hells are you doing?!" Astarion gasped, his voice shrill in shock. One slender hand was pulled to his chest, as though he were on the verge of heartbreak. "I was going to let it slip that you're insisting on doing research on my behalf, but I cannot abide by you defiling a book!" He clicked his tongue in disappointment, and reached towards the tome in Halsin's hands. The druid snapped the book shut and set it beside him on the armchair, chuckling to himself about Astarion's dismay for dog eared literature.

"Ahh a purist, are you Astarion?" he said, winking at the vampire, whose face flushed with a tinge much like the color of the wine he sipped again, glaring at Halsin over the rim of his cup. The druid just grinned wider, his crows feet deepening, and continued. "I must admit, books that show no shelf-wear are visually appealing, and the smell of new books is intoxicating…but do tomes bearing visible markings not intrigue you more than those unmarred by use?"

Astarion lowered his wine glass a bit, narrowing his eyes to study the druid, and seemed unsure of what Halsin was trying to get at. Or, Halsin figured, perhaps still offended by the dog eared page. "But think of it, Astarion, a dog-eared book means it has been well loved. What information did it share to their reader that was so valuable? What is the story contained within, and even is the story of the book itself? Just as a person's skin bears sun spots and scars, books marked by their readers have fascinating stories to tell,” Halsin explain.

Astarion had perched on the edge of his seat, leaning heavily on the armrest with his chin in his hand. He had sat quietly during his monologue, one silver eyebrow arched up to his coiffed curls. He had even taken another sip of wine to keep his sharp tongue busy on something other than a retort, Halsin assumed. The beautiful elf was always quick with a witty remark; his intellect was something Halsin greatly admired. The vampire set his wine glass back down and brushed at his trousers, flicking away at imperceptible dust that Halsin didn't see at all.

"Well," Astarion started, his words heavy with his unmistakable pouty tone, "you always have a wise response to excuse your habits." Astarion crossed his arms, tapping his fingertips on his biceps, watching carefully as Halsin picked the book up and opened it back to the page. "Still, I knew you had plenty of faults, Halsin," he said, counting on his fingers as he spoke, "your stubbornness. Your bleeding heart. But mutilating the books?”

The shadow of a grin crossed Astarion's face; his words were heavier with tease than the threat of a tantrum. It was endearing, and it made Halsin's heart soar to see some playful banter come from the vampire, who just recently had been so distraught after the run-in with Raphael.

Halsin ached to make the playfulness last. He licked his finger agonizingly slowly, and flicked the book to the next page, dog-earing that page as well. He grinned wickedly and watched the vampire from the corner of his eye - blood was rising to his face, but clearly not out of anger. This side of Astarion - the baffled, caught-off-guard side - was delightful, and Halsin enjoyed finding it. The sound of his calloused finger on the book’s rough parchment was accompanied by an overly dramatic harrumph from the pale elf.

"Well, did you find anything out, at least, in your tome-torture?” Astarion said, with very little venom, but his eyes glittering with curiosity. He brought his wine to his lips again and drained the glass.

It was Halsin's turn to sigh, and he snapped the book shut again, laying it flat on his lap. "Very little, unfortunately," he admitted, angling his broad body to face Astarion better. He shook his head, his auburn braids falling in front of his shoulders, whispering across his collarbone. He noticed how Astarion's eyes constantly shifted, exploring his body, his surroundings. They darted back up as Halsin continued to speak. "I wish there were more information on the topic, but devils aren’t in the habit of bestowing insight into their trickery."

Astarion scoffed again, and waved his hand as if dismissing the idea. "Of course not," he said, his eyes rolling once before settling back on Halsin's face. The vampire, too, had angled his body in the armchair and had leaned forward on the armrest, his hands dangling over the small table between them. One hand fidgeted with the empty wine glass, a long nail clicking as it flicked back and forth over the rim. The vampire had many nervous tics, small things he did when deep in thought, or when anxious. This particular moment seemed to be full more of anxiety than his own mulling, but Halsin didn't feel it appropriate to disturb Astarion's thoughts. The vampire finally spoke again, after a moment of silence which hung heavy between them.

"I appreciate you. Looking into this, I mean," Astarion said quietly, raising his eyes to Halsin's and peering at him through pale eyelashes. "It's a cruel irony, you know. Having been given my freedom by a parasite, given hope that it might not turn me into a monster… and then to learn that my mas-... Cazador might have etched something even more nefarious into my very body. And the only way to learn more about it is to work with a literal devil." His voice was soft, low, and almost seemed to break at times. It lacked any of his ebullience or drama that he so liked to sprinkle into his speech.

Halsin sat patiently, nodding while listening, studying Astarion's expression. It pained him to see how pained Astarion was as he described his exhilaration of freedom that so soon fell to agony, then hope, then complete uncertainty. And how his former master still haunted him. Halsin frowned, his lips pursing tightly together. Of course Cazador plagued the vampire’s mind. It had only been a handful of tendays since he had broken free from his imprisonment. Halsin swallowed at the thought, choking down his own anger at the inhumane cruelty of slavery which Astarion, and many others, have had to bear.

“Though it is distasteful to deal with fiends…finding out more is an opportunity that you must pursue," Halsin replied, his kind hazel-green eyes meeting Astarion's. He reached out, slowly, and curled his hand under the vampire's, encircling it and rubbing his thumb softly over the top of Astarion's hand. He cleared his throat, steeling himself for a level of vulnerability and honesty that he had not shared with anyone in over a century. “I too have had the unfortunate experience of being at the mercy of someone else.”

'Unfortunate experience' was a misnomer, Halsin knew deep down, because merely recalling his imprisonment made his stomach lurch. And yet he had told himself it was a youthful misadventure for decades upon decades to avoid deeper reflection. Until discovering so many parallels between his past and Astarion's. His thick brows knit together as he pondered on how to explain the whole escapade. Lost in his thoughts, he was unable to see how Astarion's eyes had widened, his brows raised. Unable to realize that the pale elf's cool grip on his palm suddenly tightened, fingertips pressing firmly on his hand.

Halsin nodded a few times as he allowed himself to creep into the deep recesses of his memory. He hardly noticed how he had inhaled and held his breath to steel himself against the memories themselves until he began to speak.

"I was a foolhardy young druid at the time, intent on seeing the beauty of the Underdark's otherworldly fauna and subterranean glow for myself. The botanical illustrations truly did not do them justice, I’ll admit,” he smiled softly at Astarion, recalling one of the only positives about the journey. He cleared his throat to push down the lump he felt forming there. “In my explorations, I had wandered too close to one of the larger Drow cities and…" his voice trailed off, but his mouth was slightly open as he looked for the best way to phrase the predicament he was in for years. "I found myself in the position somewhere between a guest, a prisoner, and a consort of a noble drow house for a time. The house matron took an interest in me and the patron also. They saw me as a…novelty."

Astarion's eyes narrowed at Halsin's expression and words. "Rarely do the drow have guests, darling. Do you care to explain further?" His words were minced, as sharp as the daggers he hid in his drow-crafted armor. The air between the two was palpably heavy, as Astarion seemed to pick apart Halsin’s words with surgeon-like precision, digging deeper into the meaning behind them.

The druid's throat bobbed as he swallowed, thinking of how to phrase it most carefully. It had been a trying time, for him, as a youngster. Once in which he feared for his very life. It was perhaps the most dangerous and unpredictable few years he'd ever experienced, and yet, he realized, he'd been shoving it to the back of his mind and classifying himself as a 'guest'. He realized how his jaw had begun to ache, so intense was his frown.

"I was chained in their bedchamber for nigh on three years," Halsin explained, his eyes darting away from Astarion's briefly, before meeting again for his next words. "During that time, I did what was necessary to survive." The vampire's eyes widened, his porcelain brow cracking as his expression twisted into something like pity, if Halsin had to place the emotion. He nodded to himself as he recalled the memories, the sights of his time trapped in the stalagmite prison of the drow matron.

"The preserved skins of surface elves hang on the walls of noble Menzoberranzan homes for display as trophies. I did not intend to add a bear skin to their collection," Halsin said, shrugging as if the weight of the memories was on his shoulders, as if they did not burden him. He liked to think they did not; they didn't affect his current day-to-day existence, so the experience must not have been too bad, he had told himself for over a century. Certainly they did not haunt him as severely as the shadow curse.

"So you were a slave," Astarion said, his expression unchanged, "used for their perverse pleasures." The pale elf sat so rigidly he could have been made of stone. With how cool his hand was, Halsin could have believed he was indeed carved out of alabaster.

"I… cannot argue against that. For two centuries I've thought of it rarely, whether that was intentional or not," Halsin said, his lips thinning in another frown. "I feared for my life and, lacking freedom, I was indeed enslaved to my masters." His voice was softer at the end, lighter, as though the wind had been knocked out of him.

The pale elf's expression softened, his brows knitting upwards in what Halsin assumed was curiosity. "However did you manage to escape Menzoberranzan? Let alone find your way from the Underdark?" Astarion asked, his voice lacking its usual teasing or sarcastic tone. He seemed genuinely intrigued, leaning towards Halsin further. He seemed enraptured by Halsin's story, unaware of how his nails pressed into Halsin's large hand. The druid didn't mind, and gently squeezed back.

"Patience, mostly. Biding my time. My moment eventually came, when some rivals of my hosts sought to unseat them. In the midst of the fighting was pure chaos, and in that moment I took my chance," Halsin looked at Astarion, his expression more severe and serious than the vampire's, for once. "I never looked back until I breathed fresh air again…and I never learned what became of my masters." His large shoulders lifted and dropped again.

Astarion hadn't seen his shrug most likely, as the vampire's eyes were downcast, darting back and forth, as though he were formulating a conversation in his head. Or perhaps simply deep in thought. Either way, Halsin sat patiently waiting for his reply. No need to rush. Nor was there awkward silence, as the background noise of clinking glasses and happy chatter filled the inn - at least most of it, save for their quieter corner. Karlach had made a bet and was armwrestling someone, Halsin overheard. As well as the unmistakable voice of Gale, so generously sharing his endless knowledge and stories. Finally, Astarion raised his head to look at Halsin.

"You had family, though. And no one.. ever came to look for you?" Astarion asked. Halsin was surprised by the humanity in his tone, his concern. He sighed softly and offered a weak half-grin for the vampire.

"The Underdark is a vast network of caverns, so it would have been almost impossible to track me. And exceedingly dangerous," he explained. It had hurt, though, the years he was down there, knowing that no one was likely coming to his rescue. The pain resurged slightly, causing Halsin's stomach to flip and his skin to become hot. He shifted in his armchair uncomfortably. "This was also well before the Grove became my family. I've long had the tendency to roam and travel, instead of settling down. So as far as anyone knew…I was simply traveling."

Astarion shook his head, as if in disbelief, his beautiful brow wrinkled in dissatisfaction. "A pity," he said, squeezing Halsin's hand before pulling his own free of the druid's grasp. "But I am glad that you escaped. And to have met you." Halsin's heart leapt at the admittance, at the slight tinge of Astarion's ears and cheeks turning red, before the vampire realized what he had said, that he had let his mask slip.

"I certainly would hate having missed the opportunity to try bear blood," Astarion said, his voice full of that false mirth. His high pitched giggle filled their little nook off the main part of the inn. He winked at the druid. Halsin chuckled to himself and grinned, shaking his head slightly. He wouldn't push the matter further; Astarion's deflection queued the end of the conversation.

Or that topic, at least.

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

Astarion was still stunned at Halsin's revelation of his sexual slavery; and appreciative that the druid knew when to keep quiet and leave him to his pensive moods. He struggled with the idea of Halsin under the thrall of anyone, let alone a diminutive Drow matron. As soon as Halsin shared his experience, Astarion's mind had run amok, conjuring the image of the large druid bound and tethered against his will… it made a knot tangle in his stomach. Astarion disliked both the knot and the fact that it had formed so quickly. Loathed how quickly his mind could so easily launch into a thousand scenarios of bound hands, sharp knives, and blood-stained floors. He hadn't realized he'd been staring into the distance for quite some time until Halsin spoke his name, and he had to blink rapidly to get his vision to refocus.

"Astarion, are you alright?" Halsin asked, tapping his forearm lightly with his thick fingers, resting his heavy hand on Astarion's delicate wrist.

As though by instinct, Astarion's other hand flipped in the air, as if batting away Halsin's concerns. "Of course, darling. Just the wine you know," he lied. Wine tasted of vinegar to him, and largely left him unaffected by intoxicating effects. "Although everyone else is rather…exuberant."

Karlach was a doll, but gods could she be loud. Lae'zel of course, besides her blasted sword sharpening, wasn't obnoxious. Gale being endlessly verbose coincided with Wyll's chatterbox nature. Only Shadowheart knew when to keep her mouth shut, besides Halsin. The inn was full to bursting with songs and laughter.

It was rather annoying, and made brooding even more difficult. Yes, of course, they'd rescued the boy, there was hope for a cure of the tadpole… for the others, at least. Astarion's jaw clenched thinking of what could happen if the tadpole was removed. Would Cazador so quickly take power back over him? He had to get answers about those wretched scars before that could happen.

His thoughts were interrupted - again - by Halsin, this time by a gentle squeeze. "Would you like to go somewhere quieter, Astarion?" Halsin asked, his voice as gentle and reassuring as it had always been.

Ah, quieter, of course, Astarion thought to himself.

Halsin's expression darkened slightly and he shook his head. "Seduction is not my intention this evening, Astarion. Truly, I thought that you might appreciate someplace different to rest for the evening other than a camp bedroll."

Astarion hadn't realized his expression had changed enough for Halsin to notice. The vampire tried to reset his face to neutral; that mask of seduction melted like snow from sun-warmed stone. Old habits, dying hard, etcetera etcetera. He would like to have some place to repose in peace, though he enjoyed wanton parties as much as any good deviant. Still, some place better than his threadbare blanket - not to mention sharing more time with Halsin, was an opportunity Astarion couldn't pass.

He nodded and stood, stretching his arms overhead as he unfolded himself from the armchair. Halsin offered his arm Astarion's way, and nodded his head toward the room to which they'd retreated after Raphael's literal dressing-down.

"Such a gentleman," Astarion purred as he slipped his hand into the crook of Halsin's arm. He couldn't resist gripping the druid's thick forearm muscle in a squeeze before relaxing his hand. Halsin's body heat, his strength… the memory of how he had been at Astarion’s request - no, the command - and so obediently followed the vampire’s lead to their mutual ecstasy… it sent a shiver down Astarion's spine, causing the hairs on the back of his neck to raise.

Halsin seemed not to notice as he waved a 'goodnight' to the rest of their companions, leading Astarion to the room he must have reserved when he had come earlier to Last Light, prior to anyone else's arrival. Though it was the same one they'd been in just a bit earlier, Astarion felt as though he were seeing it for the first time. Perhaps that truly was the case; he had been in distress the first time they'd been here after all, and sight-seeing hadn't been his priority. He raised his chin, surveying the room with curiosity and pleasure. Two clicks behind him signaled that Halsin had closed and locked the door.

"Well now, this is more like it! It’s quite a fine guest suite after all, even in the middle of a wasteland," Astarion chirped, loosening his hand's tether to Halsin and roaming about the room. He appreciated the thick fur and hide rugs that cushioned his footsteps as he took measure of his surroundings. His fingertips danced on fine antique wooden furniture - possibly as old as he was - that was clean and aged with a nice finish. A sideboard was laden heavily with candles, all lit and making the room smell faintly of honey. The side tables of the room also had candles, as well as a carafe of water and two goblets. The bed seemed plush enough, with pillows both decorative and functional at its head.

Astarion chose to settle himself at the head of the bed, kicking his boots off onto the floor, and shrugging off his armor. "So darling, what possessed you to reserve this room, hmm, if not for more of what we enjoyed the other night?" he asked, one slender eyebrow arched. Atop the copious pillows, Astarion reclined in the easy manner he had practiced over centuries.

Halsin's genial chuckle brought warmth to Astarion's cold chest as he settled beside the vampire, slipping off his own sandals and sitting cross-legged on the bed. "I've no ulterior motives, Astarion, and have been fully transparent with you," he said, his tone and grin as affable as always. "I thought it may be a fitting way to show my appreciation for you, and all you've done for me. For Thaniel. For the good of this land and the nature within it." He leaned forward and placed his large palm on Astarion's thigh, and raised one of the pale elf’s hands to his lips. Halsin pressed a gentle kiss atop his fingers, then settled his hand back down.

A shiver ran down his back again, and Astarion wiggled his shoulders further into the goose down pillows to will it away. "That's… very kind of you, Halsin," Astarion offered, brows rising in surprise, a slight flush growing at his cheeks. "It is rather nice to lie on an actual bed instead of the ground. I'd dare say we deserve a bit of comfort after all of our efforts."

The crow's feet at Halsin's eyes crinkled with his grin. "I thought you might. Comfort doesn't come naturally for me," he said, his voice a bit lower, softer. His hand traced along the surface of the soft linen quilt below him. "I am restless, and roaming. Comfort is for the farm animal, snug in its pen. I live for the wilderness." A large shrug of his shoulders blocked the candlelight from his side of the bed, then revealed it again, outlining the druid in an orangey golden halo.

Astarion couldn't resist snickering and rolling his eyes. "Oh I'm well aware darling; if you had it your way, we'd be lying naked in a field somewhere, gazing at the stars." He gestured with his hand at the ceiling, though he could only keep his eyes on the druid. How handsome he was, how striking. How full of delicious depth. His soft nature despite his inner beast. His wrinkles from age and experience. His hand on Astarion's thigh, calloused from hard work. He indeed was not made for creature comforts.

Halsin grinned and inclined his head towards Astarion, leaning in close and peering at the vampire through his dark eyelashes. "You read my mind, Astarion. But I thought of an adequate compromise for each of our comforts," he explained. Astarion's head tilted as he studied Halsin's face. "Could you humor me, dearheart, and close your eyes?"

Astarion's eyes narrowed. "Oh? Do you have some sort of lewd trick coming my way?"

"Not at all, Astarion. Just a surprise, on my honor." He squeezed the vampire's thigh softly and rose to stand beside the bed.

Astarion harrumphed and crossed his arms, wiggling further onto the pillows and crossing his long slender legs. "If you insist," he drawled, tapping his fingertips on his arms. "I do hate surprises. But I suppose I can grant that much at least." He closed his eyes and the fine linens, the candlelight, the large druid, all disappeared behind his eyelids. His sensitive hearing picked up the soft padding of Halsin's feet along the floorboards and rugs.

For once, Astarion didn't want to break the silence with his own voice, for that would prevent him from picking up hints of what the surprise was based on the small sounds of Halsin's movements. The sound of blowing; he was snuffing the candles. The click of the lock on the door. And, oddly, the soft hum of a spell of some sort being cast. It was almost painful, the ache to open his eyes and see what on earth the druid was doing. His curiosity was never sated; and yet, he ached just as badly to please Halsin by humoring his desire for this surprise, whatever it was.

He heard Halsin pacing back towards him, the soft exhale of breaths as he slid onto the bed beside Astarion. He felt the larger elf's arm slide behind his lower back, Halsin’s warm hand wrapping around his waist to pull him closer, pressing him to his side. Astarion flushed again, wriggling slightly to nestle into the crook of Halsin's arm.

"Well? Are you quite finished?" Astarion asked, his patience wearing thin, but his curiosity growing.

He felt a soundless chuckle rumble in Halsin's chest. "Thank you for your trust, dearheart," he said. Astarion noticed he didn't mention patience. "You may open your eyes now."

As soon as Astarion opened his eyes, his mouth dropped open as well. How had he not noticed? Had he been too preoccupied with the allure of an actual bed to bother to look at the ceiling? Or was it that Halsin had used some sort of druid magic to mask their presence? Astarion wasn't sure, nor could his thoughts linger on the confusion he felt as his eyes roamed the ceiling, his fangs glinting in the reflected light from above.

All along the ceiling glimmered hundreds of tiny stars; each no bigger than a gold piece. They shone like gold, too, just as the sun glinted upon coins cast into a water fountain in a Baldurian street square. They twinkled and pulsed with magic, creating a dazzling starscape above him. It mirrored beautifully the stars in the night sky that he hadn't seen in the entire time they'd been in the Shadowcursed lands.

His mouth was dry from hanging open; Astarion licked his lips and swallowed, his hand crawling towards Halsin, grasping his tunic in wonder. He felt Halsin's warm hand lay atop his, a soothing weight grounding him despite feeling as though his head swam in the stars above. Halsin had to have prepared this when he came to the Inn earlier. And also planned the candles, the timing… the minor cantrip of 'daylight' that he must have cast on each individual star. Astarion squinted, his night vision finally adjusted to the dimmer light. Each star appeared to be wooden; they had been whittled. By hand - by Halsin.

“What…what is all this for, Halsin?" Astarion asked, his eyes fixed on the wonders above, "How long did it take you to carve…?" He felt himself being pulled closer to Halsin, their torsos pressed together, Halsin's strong arms encircling him, sending goosepimples all down his body and a warmth in his chest and belly.

He couldn’t hold back the smile that tugged at the edges of his lips as he felt the press of Halsin’s soft lips against his forehead, and how they were curled into a smile. "I've been working on it for quite some time… despite only mentioning it recently," Halsin said, his contentment warm and solid, radiating from his deep voice. "Even if we cannot admire the night sky in these lands…I wanted to lie with you under the stars and feel your skin against mine."

Astarion felt as though his heart had started beating, with how fiercely his chest tightened as he realized that though he had never even considered it, he wanted that too. He wriggled his body against Halsin's, aching to be closer. "This… is nice," he said. And he meant it.

#bg3 #astarion #baldur's gate 3 #halstarion #bg3 astarion #halsin x astarion #astarion x halsin #astarion ancunin #astarion bg3 #halsin/astarion #bloodbear #blood and honey #bloodhoney #oakblood #ursaminor #ursa minor

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vivwritesfics · 7 hours

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Mafia!Bob AU

Bob Floyd, arms dealer for The Daggers, and, most importantly, sweet loving boyfriend

Short mafia Bob blurb

As Bob sat at her vanity, he pulled his glasses from his face. It was his least favourite part of his morning, swapping his wire rimmed glasses for his glasses.

She watched from their bed, looking pretty in his clothes, as he struggled. "Bobby," she said as she climbed from beneath the comforter. She walked over and sat herself on his lap, completely blocking his view of the mirror as she helped him to put in his contact lenses.

As he did, Bob held onto her hips, squeezing slightly. "There," she said as soon as she had popped the second one in. "Now everybody can see your pretty eyes."

Robert Floyd hated wearing his contact lenses. He loved his glasses, but they made him look so nerdy. And you can't look nerdy when you work for Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell. Not when you're the arms dealer for The Daggers.

"I shouldn't be home too late tonight, Bun," he said and leaned forward to kiss her noise. "Are you doing anything nice today?"

She shrugged and laid her head on his shoulder. "Think Mickey wants to come to the store with me?" She asked as she blinked up at him.

"I think Mickey has no choice," he said and kissed the top of her head. He would have given anything to spend the day with her, would have given anything to swap places with Mickey. But he couldn't, not unless he wanted to face Mav's wrath (and he'd never expose her to that).

Bob pulled his wallet from his pocket and placed it in her hands. "No spending limit for you, my baby," he said and pulled her in her a kiss. "Get anything you'd like."

He hated leaving her, but worked called. Bob stood up, still holding her as he walked over to the bed and dropped her on it. "I'll miss you, bunny," he whispered and kissed her.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled at his hair, desperate to keep him there with her. "Stay," she whispered against his lips.

Bob let out a groan "I'm sorry, bun," he said and pressed his forehead against her own.

Reluctantly, she let him go. She watched as Bob walked out of the bedroom, leaving her there wearing a pout.

It had become a daily ritual. Her, reluctant to let him go, and Bob, reluctant to leave her.

She went shopping, taking Mickey (Bob's best friend and the man who was charged with protecting her while Bob worked) from shop to shop.

Bob couldn't help but think about her as he worked. As he took inventory, as he sorted orders for Ice Man, he was thinking of nothing but her.

But then Jake and Bradley came knocking on his office door. They didn't wait for him to say anything before they walked in and threw their guns on his desk. "We want an upgrade," said Jake.

Bob picked up the gun. "Guys, how do you think this works?" He couldn't stop himself from asking. "Do you think you can upgrade your guns like this is Grand Theft Auto?"

"No," Bradley said immediately. "We just want something better."

Bob let out a sigh as he checked through his books. "Fine, I'll see what I can do."

The old Bob wouldn't have so easily given them what they wanted. The old Bob would have made them stick with their old guns until they damaged them beyond repair. But he'd gone soft, and it was all because of her.

At the end of the day, Bob couldn't wait to get back to her. He locked up the gun store, checked over his books one last time, and made his way back to her.

"Bunny!" Bob called the moment he walked into their lavish apartment. A fond smile crossed his face at the sight of the shopping bags by the door.

He pushed on, past the living room and straight into the bathroom. This part of his day had also become a ritual, but a comforting one at that.

After a day of dealing weapons and selling them in the cities, Bob's favourite part of his day was when he got to wash the grime away and take out his goddamn contacts.

And then it was a careful walk to their bedroom to put his wire framed glasses on.

When he walked into the bedroom, she was just a pretty blob on the bed. Bob placed his glasses on his face and looked down at her, dressed in pretty lingerie that Bob had never seen before.

Pretty lingerie that she'd with his money. "Holy shit, Bunny," he said as he looked down at her. But there with little else he had to say before he was shedding off his suit and climbing on top of her.

@nurse-sainz this is for youuuuuu

#bob floyd #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd fluff #bob floyd x you #bob floyd smut #robert floyd #robert floyd imagine #robert floyd x reader #robert floyd x you #robert floyd fluff #robert floyd smut #robert bob floyd #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun bob #tgm #tgm fic #mafia!au

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hazbinfallinginaspiral · 1 day

Note

Hello, hope you're doing okay.

Thanks for all you've written.

Could you maybe do something of Retro!Reader caring for the Vs when their sick or the Vs being clearly a mess while trying to care for Retro when they're sick?

I’m working on a separate fic for Retro being sick so here’s something with them taking care of the Vees!

Vox

“Sweetheart,” I said quietly, tapping his shoulder gently. “Darling, you can’t sleep here. This is the kitchen.”

He flinched and slowly opened his eyes- his screen was flickering and there was a sheen of static over it. “Mm?” He asked, looking around, disoriented.

“Come on, let’s get you back to your room,” I said softly. I held out my hand and he took it, trying to stand. He stumbled, and I caught him quickly. “Careful,” I said. He was burning up, hotter than any human would, but that was to be expected. I wrapped my arm around his waist to support him and he leaned against my side.

“Mm… oh, it’s you…” he mumbled, smiling slightly. He relaxed against me. “Love you, dear.”

“I love you too,” I said softly. I sighed and just picked him up instead. He gasped slightly, then buried his head against my chest, the corners of his screen hurting me a little. I didn’t mind. “It’s okay, dear,” I said, carefully setting him back down in bed.

“I hate being sick,” he grumbled.

“I know,” I said with a small laugh. I got out his charging cables and paused for a moment. “Can you sit up for a moment? For me, please?”

“Mm..mhm..” he mumbled, sitting up a little. His expression softened. “Anything for you.”

“Thank you,” I said with a smile. I gently and carefully plugged in the cables. It earned me several shocks, much more painful than normal, even when I plugged them in correctly. It always got like this when he was sick. I finished and looked back at him. “How are you feeling?”

“Like death,” he said, flopping back onto the bed. I gave him several pillows to support his neck and make the cables more comfortable. “I think I can finally see the ceiling children.”

“Oh my god,” I said, trying not to laugh. “You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

“Look, that comment scared the shit out of me! The ceiling children are the precise reason we don’t let you get high anymore.”

“I can tell!” I said with a laugh. I looked to his nightstand and noticed he hadn’t been eating or taking his medicine. “Darling…” I said with a frown. I sighed and got him more medicine to take. “Come on, you’ve got to take it or you won’t get any better.”

“No!” Vox said, trying to move away. He wasn’t particularly successful. His screen flickered and glitched a little. “No, its tastes like shit. I don’t want it! It’s practically poison.”

“Sweetheart, it’s just medicine,” I said. He shook his head, about to protest. “I promise it’s not that bad,” I said before he could argue. “Darling, I promise it’s not poison. It’ll help you get better, okay? It doesn’t taste that bad.”

“Promise?” He asked quietly, looking at me with a raised brow. He was shivering.

“Promise,” I said softly. “Please?”

“Fine,” he said with a sigh. He begrudgingly took the medicine and laid back down. “Only for you, my dear.”

“Thank you.”

Valentino

“Tino, sweetie,” I said with a small laugh. “Please, I need to go make dinner.”

“No!” He said, holding me tighter. “You’re mine.”

“Technically, I belong to Vox,” I said with a grin. I ran my fingers along his wings gently, trying to comfort him. “Look, I’ll be back soon, okay? I won’t be gone long.”

“No,” he said again, making a small squeaking noise. He looked up at me- though I was ninety percent he couldn’t see me very well. “Please don’t go, mi amor.”

“Val…”

“Please stay,” he said quietly.

I was about to say no, but then I realized he was asking nicely. The way he was holding onto me, shivering, leaning into my touch. This was the most vulnerable I’d seen him, and he’d even used the word please.

“Fine,” I said with a sigh. I leaned back and pulled him up against me, ready to cuddle for as long as he needed. He didn’t say thank you.

Velvette

“Babey, please,” she said, tugging on my sleeve. “I need to work! I have to design some clothes for my collection or I’ll miss my deadline.”

“Vel, you can’t,” I said softly, cupping her face. “Look at you. You’re sick, dear, you can’t do much of anything right now.”

“No im not! I’m perfectly fine,” she insisted. Unfortunately, she started coughing immediately after. “I can work!”

“Honey, you know how Vox doesn’t protest when I take care of him when he’s sick? How he drops his work and rests?”

“Yes,” she said hesitantly. She could sense this was a trap.

“That’s because he knows that I’ll do whatever it takes to make him rest,” I said, patting her head. There was a clear threat in my voice- a caring and affectionate threat, but a threat nonetheless. “Now, you can be a good girl and lay down, or I can take away your cupcakes again.”

“No! No, no, no, I’ll rest,” she said, immediately laying down. “See? Resting!”

“Thank you, dear,” I said with a small laugh. “Now, what’s your typical comfort food? For when you’re sick. You get cupcakes when you’re healthy again.”

#hazbin hotel #vox #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #writing #vox x reader #my writing #x reader #thanks anon!#hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin velvette #velvette x reader #hazbin valentino #hazbin hotel valentino #valentino x reader #vox fanfiction

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scorpioriesling · 15 hours

Text

Random Tropes HC (pt. 1)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Rhysand / Azriel / Cassian x reader

Warnings: slight sexual suggestions

Summary: Random tropes, and how each would play out, depending on the character... and you, of course.

SR’s Note: I saw a filter on Tik Tok talking about book tropes, and ranking your favorite to least favorite... so this idea came to mind. I am using my top 6 (not in order) for the purpose of this post -- enjoy! Part 2

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Rhysand - "Slow Burn" / "Forbidden Love"

Only he would get involved in something very dangerous, for both you and him

But, he wouldn't care. He had to have you

In this version, you'd be Tamlin's sister, and he knew how dangerous it would be to be with you

At first, you hated him (as your brother taught you) but... over time you realized how shitty your brother was and you started falling for the High Lord of the Night Court

But, like Tamlin, your stubbornness would get in the way

"Keep playing pretend all you want, princess," Gods you hated when he would see right through the walls you tried to put up. "I know it's me you think of when you're alone at night."

When you finally drop the act, Rhysand is... oh boy

"You really like making me wait, don't you?" He would say, breath hot on you ear while he ran his fingers down your arms from behind.

You couldn't even begin to explain how hard it's been to hold out, to pretend you still hate hijm even though you haven't for quite a while.

"Shhh..." He would brush a strand of hair from your face, lips grazing your jawline. "No need to explain anything. I quite enjoy looking at what's going on in that pretty little head of yours myself."

Every time, you feel like you'll fully give in...

Rhysand doesn't mind the chase.

"You know what I want..." he would say. He would always wait until you were alone together, not wanting to cause anything with his enemy.

"... when the time is right." You finish. He would start staying overnight with you, his fingers tracing up and down your thigh but never going much further.

That alone and his eyes gazing into yours as he laid with you... that could turn you to mush.

The soft kisses he'd leave on your cheekbones, toying with the tendrils of your hair...

All for it to end in the morning, him pressing a kiss to your forehead before winnowing back to the Night Court without a trace.

Cassian - "Fake Dating"

Rhysand had not only given his brother the title of War General, but had also supplied him with a second in command.

You'd been taking training lessons from Cassian in a group setting. He tried really hard to keep his attention to other participants fair, but... something about you really stuck out to him.

Maybe it was the way your braid swung when you executed a move he'd only just taught the class; maybe it was the way your leggings hugged the curve of your ass, accentuated when he would have you practice punches and kicks with the punching bag...

It wasn't just your beauty. You were smart, witty, cunning... but also a very skilled fighter.

Cassian wasn't the only one to notice either.

"As the newly appointed second in command," Rhysand said, hands folded on his desk before him. You stood next to Cassian in Rhys' office. "You will be joining Cassian on his excursions from now on." Your eyed widened, and you elbowed the gorgeous male to your right.

"He can't defend himself all alone?" You say, a smirk pulling your lips. Cassian rolls his eyes, but Rhys just stares between the two of you, grinning smugly.

"Something like that."

You got along suprisingly well with the Lord of Bloodshed; he asked for your thoughts, took your advice, and leaned on you for support when you ventured to the Continent together. You'd become... dare you say it... friends.

"Oh come on, everyone's going!" Cassian threw his hands up, still standing in your doorway. You shrugged at him.

"Yeah, but... I don't really know anyone. Besides Rhys, I mean. Even then, he is kind of my boss, so..." You say, folding clothes and putting them in drawers. Cassian plops down on your bed, and when you return for the next stack, he's looking up at you with pleading hazel eyes.

"You don't have anything else tonight, right?" He asks, grabbing a hand in yours. Cassian was very touchy, and though usually you weren't, it was something you decided to let slide.

"I mean... no..."

"Its settled. You're coming with me! I'll even fly us there, so you can wear whatever shoes you want. Don't worry about the walk." He winked and walked out, so... nonchalantly. Like he didn't just reduce you to a pile of putty with his sweet notion.

It wouldn't have mattered if you wore a potato sack, Cassian would have still stared -- but you chose a tiny black dress, and glittering silver heels instead.

His eyes roamed over you when he came to pick you up, and a small chuckle fell from his lips.

"W-wow, Y/N, you look...." He doesn't finish his sentence. You roll your eyes and blush.

"Different than usual?" You supply. He gulps and nods his head, offerring you a hand. You take it, and walk to the front patio of the House of Wind.

"Hold onto me, okay?" He says. You look into his eyes, and he grins at you. "If you get scared, tell me and I'll return us to the ground.

You snort. "Oh please, Cass, do I look like I'm afraid of anyTHING-"

In seconds, his arm has wrapped under your thighs, the other holding you close around your waist. You squeeze your eyes shut, burying your face into his chest. His teakwood scent invades your nose, and you relax a little knowing this is right where you've wanted to be for months.

When you get to Rita's -- you find that you are easily the main attraction. Not only of the Inner Circle, but the place itself. Morrigan is talking your ear off, you politely spoke to Azriel, and even Rhysand has forgone his usual formal appearance.

But, like I said... others in the bar have noticed you too.

"Heyyy baby," a man's hand braces your lower back as you stand at the bar, waiting on the two drinks you offerred to get for your new friend Mor and yourself. You turn, a look of disgust on your face.

"Eew, don't touch me." You say. He only snickers, sliding onto the seat next to you.

"Let me buy you a drink." He says. His eyes are glazed over, and you continue to stare in pure distaste.

"No thanks." You clip. He huffs a laugh and leans closer to you.

"Why not, pretty girl? I don't see anyone else up here takin' care of you." Your face heats. He isn't going to leave you alone. You look over your shoulder, hoping to spot Cassian, Morrigan, Hell, even Rhysand. But you can't see anyone.

You angrily turn back to the loser next to you. "I'll have you know, I could totally kick your ass right now if I wanted to." You sneer. He laughs out loud, scooting closer and putting a hand on your leg. You gasp. "And-"

"And what, doll?" He drawls. You fumble for words, any excuse to get this creep to leave you alone.

"And... uh... and-"

"She has a boyfriend."

You turn, feeling Cassian's large hands bracing your shoulders. You let out a sigh of relief, and shoot him a Thank the Cauldron look.

"Oh... oh Gods uh I am so sorry-" The idiot fumbles, scrambling back and out of his chair.

"Save it. Don't touch her again." Cassian glares, and the guy shoos away. When he is finally out of earshot, you turn and take Cassian's hands in yours.

"Cass, oh Gods thank you..." you say. He gives you a strained smile, eyes flicking between yours and to where your hands now held his.

"It's no problem." He said. You turned, facing the bar as two drinks were slid across it to you. Cassian grabbed them both, and followed you to the booth where his friends sat. He sat one in front of Mor, and took a sip from your straw before handing yours to you.

"Heyyy," you said. He only grinned at you, allowing you to slide into the seat before him. Rhys looked at you with a smirk, and you didn't think to hard what he was getting at because the conversations started up again. Within minutes, Cassian rested his cheek on the side of your head, arm wrapped around your waist, tracing tiny circles on your bare thigh. You sucked in a breath when you caught onto what he was doing.

"Cassie, what are you..." His hand stopped to rest on your hip, and he peered down at you.

"Dance with me?" He asked. You simply nodded, following his to the dance floor where upbeat music played. You faced him, and he once again took your hands in his, swaying with you to the beat. When a more sensual song came on, he moved your hands to his chest, and replaced his on your hips, pulling you impossibly close. With each movement, you felt your heart explode a little more; you knew you cared for him more than usual friends do. But pretending to date would only hurt in the end; you enjoyed this way too much.

"Cass, I.." You started. His left hand moved to rest atop your butt, and your breath caught in your throat. He leaned down to talk over the loud music.

"You... what, Y/N?" Ughhh. Your name sounded so good on his lips.

"I, uh... that guy. He isn't here anymore, so. We can stop pretending." You gazed up at him, his hazel eyes dark and focused on your lips.

"And what if I'm not pretending?"

Azriel - "Enemies to Lovers"

Ohhh he would want you from the get go.

In this version, you'd be Eris's full sister, and Lucien's half sibling.

"What's she doing here?" He would ask when Eris brought you with him to the meeting he was to attend with the Inner Circle.

"Trust me, I didn't want to. Beron made for her to come with me." Eris would say, not missing the glare Azriel pointed at you. You only returned the sentiment.

"What's it to you?" You asked. Azriel folded his arms across his chest, his biceps bulging from the tight black tee he wore. You couldn't help but let your eyes linger for a moment, before returning to his face when he spoke again.

"Whatever. I just don't want any other liabilities." You scoffed, beelining for the door to the meeting hall where the rest of the Inner Circle waited. Your shoulder clocked Azriel as you passed, and Eris chuckled.

"Maybe I brought her for some entertainment," he whispered lowly, following you into the meeting room. Azriel said nothing else as he trailed in last, pulling the door closed behind him.

"So whatever did you need to talk about?" Eris says, taking the seat across from Rhysand. Of course he would, leaving the last two empty chairs across from one another for you and Azriel.

"You know why I've called you here." Rhysand purrs. They begin their conversation, and you feel a tiny tickle around your wrist. You look down and see a slim, black tendril of a shadow. When you peer down at it, it seems to seize its movements. You give a small smile, and it continues its dance around your fingers.

"What has your sister said about this arrangement?" Rhys asks, making you look up. Your cheeks heat as all eyes are now on you. What was the question?

"I uh, I think whatever needs to be done is up to the better judgement of my father," you say. Rhysand's eyebrows rise, and Eris glances sidelong at you, giving you a silent confirmation. You're glad you answered somewhat correctly.

Glancing across the table, Azriel is still staring daggers into you. You shoot him a small snarl, and remember the smoky tendril winding around your knuckles. A devilish smirk takes over your lips.

You flutter your fingers, and the shadow follows your command, returning to Azriel. It drifts up his exposed forearm, and slips under his shirt. He shifts uncomfortably, glancing around and swallowing.

"It's settled then. Y/N will reside here for the time being-"

"Wait, what?" You say, realizing you've spoken in unison. Azriel is squirming in his chair, shadow still tickling him as he looks at Rhys with pleading eyes.

"Why would she need to be here?" He asks lowly. You snarl at him, crossing your arms.

"Its obviously not my first choice either, bat." You say. This time he glares back at you. "Don't worry; I won't have anything to do with you while I'm here." You finish, nose upturned as you fix your gaze on your brother beside you again. He leans over and gives your knee a squeeze, pride showing in his face.

"It's settled then." He stands, and you do the same. Eris and Rhys shake hands, and he makes to walk out the door. You trail behind him, as you hear Azriel pleading and begging Rhysand to make you go home.

"She is staying, Azriel. I've already made up my mind. This is the next best move we could make." He explains and Azriel shoves his chair in, the legs scraping on the floor. Pathetic.

"Listen, if anything happens to you here, you just give me a shout, okay? I'll come get you-" You wrap your arms around your big brother. He sighs and returns the hug. You peer over his shoulder and catch Azriel staring at you from the doorway. You snicker.

"I will be just fine, I promise." He nods, placing a hand on your arm one last time before making to leave. The rest of the members have already cleared out, leaving just you and Azriel.

He doesn't wait to pounce on you once your brother is out of earshot, but you know better. You've known better for years; Azriel is always so tempermental. So... ugh, annoying. So, hot.

"Save it Az - you cant't get rid..." You're cut off by his hand gripping your elbow, falling into darkness as he winnows you both. When you open your eyes, you realize you're in a bedroom. A big one, with cream colored drapes and sheets on the bed. You barely take in the scene around you before your hands are pinned above your head against the back of the closed bedroom door.

"Azriel." You say, tone low and menacing. He glares down at you, leaning in towards your face.

"What the hell was that?" He seethes. Your brow raises in question.

"What are you-" You breath is coming in short pants. The scent of sage and sea salt rolls off him, gently caressing your senses as you try to focus on what he asked you. You're a bit distracted, you'll admit. This golden flecked eyes, staring intensely at you. The light dusting of freckles across his sun-kissed nose. His lips that are so close to yours...

"Manipulating my own shadows. Trying to distract me duirng the meeting? What the hell was that?" He breathes. You let a small smile grace your lips. His pull back as he bares his teeth at you, and you chuckle.

"Aww, Az, it's nice to see you still brush every morning -- maybe if you smiled more-" He surges forward, crashing his lips onto yours. Your eyes blow wide in shock, his free hand grasping your hip bone and pulling you close to him. His lips feast on you hungrily, biting your lower lip as his tongue dances with yours, battling for dominance. You can't help but let out a low groan, and his grip on your wrists loosens. When he finally pulls back, gasping for air, you grin mischeviously at him.

Gotcha. Right where I wanted you.

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starspilli · 16 days

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dc cowboy doodles & wips !

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opens-up-4-nobody · 8 months

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...

#sometimes. most times. if i cant articulate things properly i feel like my heads gonna explode. which is unfortunate bc i have the #language is hard brain problems. my neurology makes articulation difficult. but i try reguardless. which is sometimes. most times.#exhausting. that words gets thrown around a lot when i describe the patterns of my thoughts. exhausting. and it is i guess. tho id say its #more annoying and frustrating. but maybe its also exhausting. hard to tell when its how u think. but ive been reading a lot of papers this #weekend. enjoying the papers i read. papers about photosynthesis at the edge of habitability. about genetis and the structure and functions #of proteins. and the learning curve is steep but im learning bit by bit. and it just sorta makes me sad bc the way that my brain works has #so damaged the way that i interact with the world and i can see it at every step of my academic career. i dont even kno what to say abt the #past 2 years of my life. from where i stand now its just a black hole of self destruction. y did i do that? i dunno. at the time i was just #following the arbitrary rules and restrictions laid out for me within my head. did these rules have a rational basis? no. not usually. but #thats how it had to be. exhausting. but even then i coukd sometimes see thru to the wonder. and it was agony bc i wasnt allowed to think #abt it. its still agony now but i can feel it more often. maybe that's what happiness is to me. to be so full of wonder that i cant take it #i cant exist in that state or id b nonfunctional. its too big for my chest. it makes me want to scream and weep and pull at my hair. and #and its maddening bc i cant articulate it properly. except to call upon media short hands. there is wonder here. a nightmarish description #but not always. sometimes it was beautiful. theres a reason ive read annihilati0n 5 times despite hating the book. theres a reason i rewatch #the terror nearly once a month. to find beauty in a thing that causes you such terror and pain. theres something about it i can't find the #words for and its driving me nuts. exhausting. but so it goes #unrelated

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moechies · 4 months

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imagine best friend yuuji asking you to teach him how to eat pussy

“y-yuuji! you can’t jus’ lick me like that!”

“why not? how can i know how to do it if i don’t try it out?”

the blush on your face becomes more evident, your hand on his forehead as an attempt to push him away.

“fuc- fine, just- you have to listen okay? don’t lick me randomly!”

he nods his head, smiling out an “mhm!” with his face laid on your propped up thigh. fuck, you hate to admit it, but seeing such an innocent man, your best friend between your thighs took a bigger toll on you than you would’ve thought. you can’t exactly tell if your churning stomach is from the pleasure that he has brought upon you, or the possibility that you may have feelings for your best friend.

you reach down with two fingers to your cunt, pressing on your sensitive bud,

“h-here, this is the clit. pay a-attention to it.. because ‘s really s-sensitive, ‘nd it feels good..”

he stares down so intently, it makes you feel nervous.

“mkay!”

is all he says with a stupid grin, and before you have a chance to move your fingers, you feel his tongue pressed against your clit. he begins to circle the bud, lightly sucking it. he feels your body shiver, eliciting a gasp from you at the same time?

“s so sweet.. you’re so sweet..”

he doesn��t stop when he speaks. instead, he continues to lap at your cunt, his face evidently beginning to get wet from the mix of your slick and his saliva.

“y-yuuji! s-slow down..! ‘m gon-gonna cum too quick if you keep going..!”

but no, he doesn’t slow down, and he doesn’t stop. instead you feel his tongue slip into your cunt, sneakily bringing his hand up to your clit rubbing it softly.

“yuuji m c-cummin’!”

fuck he’s in heaven. he perks his head up from your cunt, his grinding on the surface of your bed begins to slow. he pants with a smile on his face, using the back of his hand to wipe some of your spilt cum off his face, just to lick it back up.

he loves your fucked out face, you’re so cute. you’re panting just as hard as him, hands planted on both sides of yourself to hold yourself steady after your orgasm.

“did i do goo-“

“y-yuuji! this isn’t your first time!”

you lightly backhand his head back and forth, causing his head to twist left and right a couple times before he catches your hand with his,

“of course it is!”

“no it not!”

“yes it is!”

#jjk #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #yuuji itadori smut #yuuji itadori x reader #jjk yuuji #itadori yuuji #yuuji x reader #yuuji smut #yuuji x you #itadori x reader #jjk fluff #itadori fluff #yuuji fluff #requests ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ #drabbles ⋆⑅˚₊

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euaphora · 9 months

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ִ ♱ ₊ ࣪ ITS NOT HEALTHY FOR ME TO FELL THIS!

bully!megumi who started picking at you for no reason, you didn’t know what you did wrong or what you had said. At first he did it for fun just to pick on you but then he started seeing the faces you would make when he would slap your ass,small or big, he loved the sound it would make as you slightly jump up.

bully!megumi who tried to flirt with you while you put your books away in your locker but you kindly told him you had to go. You were just super uncomfortable and wanted to go to class already, honestly.

bully!megumi who noticed that and slapped you against the locker, hands against them as he traps you. You try and see if anyone will help but they just avoid him, knowing who his dad was and just knowing he would treat them same way he was treating you. They knew you were getting bullied but didn’t report it.

bully!megumi who brushes his hand against your upper thighs during classes as you slap it away when the teacher asks what’s going on, calling you pet names behind your ear, teasing you by taking away something you were just randomly holding, he would put it over your head watching you jump and down, and reached to grab it, the visible height difference between you two causing troubles. You take it away from him, seeing your clothed breasts bounce, feeling his pants suddenly tighten.

bully!megumi who would drag you to any empty classroom and lift your uniform skirt up and pulling down your panties, slapping your ass as it turns a darker shade of red by the minute. He would have you laid down and on his lap, sometimes rubbing his thumb to your clit, feeling your squirm under him as you try and get off, just making things worse.

bully!megumi who threatens you and blackmails you with clips of you having him deep in your mouth, gagging sounds as the background coming from the video, swiping to the left, the next clip showing you bouncing on his cock at the dean’s office. He had a whole album of you two and just for personal reasons. You look back at him with doe eyes, tears slipping out of you.

bully!megumi who gaslights you, “I don’t want to have to show the dean but if you report me, I’ll have to, sweetheart..” he coos while holding on your hips as you sit on his lap as he rocks your hips making you rub against his bulge as you cry into his shoulder. You just nod, hugging him tight by his torso— mascara being ruined and smearing on his dress shirt.

bully!megumi who hates seeing you talk to other guys that aren’t him. He would take that anger out on you the next time you would meet up again, you being so confused why he was so mad all of a sudden when just yesterday he was praising you, telling you how good you were to him.

bully!megumi who likes to go raw all the time, never having a condom in hand. He didn’t have sex with other girls anymore since he was always with you now. He would invite you over to his house, you never really having a choice either way. When you would ask him, “Can we use a condom, please? I don’t wanna end up pregnant, megumi.” You whine as you roll your eyes back gripping onto the bed sheets.

bully!megumi who would be mad at your response, slapping your pussy then grabbing you by the back of your hair with the other hand, humiliating you by having his phone on the nightstand as the video records every second. Of course he wouldn’t post it or show it to anyone, he liked having the power of knowing he was the only one that made you feel good, the only one who saw you for what you really were, a slut.

bully!megumi who likes to have you in missionary half of the time because he loved watching you pant, losing your breath as he would ram himself inside you— ignoring your pleads.

bully!megumi who makes you swallow all his cum after you suck him off, if one drop fell down your mouth he would make you get on your knees again, shoving his cock back in your mouth and ramming your head back and fourth to create fiction on his cock.

bully!megumi who eventually stops going so hard on you, leaving you alone and no longer picking on you but later later realizing how much you loved getting treated like a rag doll. You would pull him into the staff bathroom going into a stall and lifting up your skirt, hinting him to put his cock inside you.

“Fuck me, ‘gumi…couldn’t stop think about you all last period.” You pout your lips as you look back at him having a big grin spread across his face. “Thought you didn’t like when I would fuck you?” He teases, pulling down his zipper, briefs joining them.

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lina-lovebug · 3 months

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I'd Fight The Devil

Alastor x fem! reader

Background: (Y/N) is the elder Morningstar, and wants to fix her relationship with her dad. But her dad hates her boyfriend.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 - Finale

Allusions to sex, actual sex, angel being angel, and cannibalism

_____

Angel spit out his drink, "You're with Alastor?!"

"Yeah, thoughts?"

"And prayers, girl," Angel could never imagine a sweet girl like (Y/N) getting it on with the Radio Demon himself.

But everyone has their kinks, he supposed.

Alastor manifested behind her, and she immediately felt his presence. Pressing herself against him, he leaned into her warmth and kept his arms around her shoulders.

"How was your day, mon amour?"

"It'll be even better," She trailed off, turning around to face him, "when we meet my dad for dinner."

Silence.

And not even radio silence.

"Not to be rash, but I'm sure your father would sooner see my head on a pike than on my body," Alastor adored the fact that she was mending their bond, even more so when Lucifer makes the effort.

But announcing their relationship to him?

He could see it ending in flames.

"I know you two don't get along, but I thought a nice dinner might smooth things over."

"And if he disapproves of us?" He lifted her head upwards with his finger, bemused as to what her answer may be.

"Then he'll have to get used to it," (Y/N) replied, sending a shiver of excitement up his spine.

Only a feeling that the she-devil he was utterly obsessed with could provide.

"Ugh, can you guys go fuck somewhere else?" Angel said, "or at all? I can't imagine going a lifetime without dick."

Alastors eye twitch, "now that's our business, isn't it?"

"Okay, okay," Charlie spoke up, "you guys go get ready."

Charlie couldn't help but notice the change in Alastor. It had only been a few months, but being in her sisters presence alone has made him kind. Sure, the both of them would skin someone alive over an insult, but Alastor would rip out his own eyes if (Y/N) asked.

A perfect match.

(Y/N) dawned a black dress with a pearl necklace that Alastor bought for her. Well, she thinks he bought it but he actually stole it off of a fresh kill.

How sweet.

"Pumpkin! Oh look at you! You're as radiant as ever!" Lucifer fawned over his daughter as they made it to the restaurant, making it a point to ignore the red demon behind her.

"Catching strays?" Lucifer gestured to him.

"Lovely to see you again," Alastor retorted.

"Dad, why don't we go inside? And Alastor will be joining us," now, Lucifer didn't forget what he said. He recognized that the fearsome deer demon had the intention of claiming Princess (Y/N) as his own, but did his daughter return such feelings?

Honestly, Lucifer feared that.

Not it being Alastor persay, but his little girls being hurt.

He knew how awful it felt to go through the divorce with Lilith, and then her disappearance.

He didn't ever want his daughters to feel that way.

"So, Alastor, what do you do again?"

"I have a radio broadcast. Your daughter has actually helped me repair the studio after the attack," He laid his land on hers.

And Lucifer picked up Alastors hand.

And placed it away from hers.

"Uh, dad-"

"Look, if you two are fucking, don't tell me."

"Dad!" Her face burned red, "we aren't-that's not. . .I love Alastor, and he loves me. I want you to accept us both."

"Love? Whoa, whoa, whoa! Pumpkin, I don't think-"

"I'm not a little kid," She interrupted, "I'm a grown woman, and I'm able to make my own decisions. I want to be with Alastor because I love him. You may not think I know what love is, but I know it's what I feel with Alastor."

That's when he saw it.

That look.

Whilst (Y/N) was defending herself, defending their love, Alastor looked at her. Only her. And it was like he was staring at the nebula itself, seeing all its beauty in the Heir of Hell. His smile faltered, closing his mouth, and his eyes softened.

It's the same look that he used to give Lilith.

"If I ever hear that you've made her cry, or even laid a single hand upon her," Lucifer stared him down, "I'll make you disappear."

"A man true to his word. Looks like we have something in common," Alastor agreed, his hand back on hers. She gave him a smile, one that reminded him of Lilith.

The rest of dinner went off without any incidents. The small jab here and there, but no one died, and no one was stabbed. Lucifer learned more about his daughters business and how she lit up talking about it.

"You hardly ate, Alastor. Is something wrong?" (Y/N) asked when her father went to the restroom.

"Oh no, my dear. Just hungry for something else, is all," His eyes raked up her form, earning a cough from the she-devil.

Honestly, she didn't know where he was on his spectrum. She was fine never even being intimate, so long as he was happy, but this spark in his eyes lit a fire within her.

"O-oh. . .are you sure?" Believe it or not, (Y/N) had only had sex twice and both times she'd call it lackluster.

"I don't want you to force yourself if you don't want to," oh how innocent she was. Honestly, Alastor assumed he was aroace before he met the she-devil. Her ferocity - her chaos in fights, her genuine kindness, and her soul - itself brought out that spark.

There are moments where the carnal desire needs to be satisfied.

"Mon cher, I'd never ask if I didn't mean it."

That look, it made her softly gasp.

"Alast-"

"Ew."

Right.

Lucifer.

He showed up from his restroom break and found the pair giving eachother "fuck me" eyes.

"Could I eat my dinner without you groping my child?" Lucifer hissed, despite Alastor only touching her hand.

He blinked, thinking how he's never even groped a woman.

"Maybe."

Sick bastard.

_ _ _ ☆ _ _ _

"Fuck! Alastor!"

(Y/N) had never cum before, so Alastor being her first to ever do so and smiling away at her quivering legs made it so much better.

"Oh fuck. . ." She moaned weakly, his tongue slithering in and out of her to lick up every last drop.

"Al. . ." She was breathless, staring at his strained member. Reaching up to unzip his pants, he tutted as he grabbed her wrist.

"Al?"

"It's about you. Don't worry about me, amour," He purred, kissing the bite marks on her thighs.

"But you-"

Before she could detest further, wishing to satisfy him, the door opened.

"Oh my God, they were right! Alastor, you sly dog," Angel Dust was at the door, and Alastor quickly covered his beloveds' body with the covers before his horns started to grow and his back stretched.

"I'm going to kill you."

"Not before you make love to me, you're not," still in his demonic form, (Y/N) blew a gust of wind to slam the door shut.

Her body displayed on the bed, Alastor agreed.

"And stay in that form. It suits you."

#alastor imagine #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel x reader

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sillyblues · 10 months

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𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐠𝐧!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

ੈ✩‧₊˚𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: miguel tells you how annoying you are

ੈ✩‧₊˚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: last and second part of annoying is here!! thank you so much for the huge support yall broke my app my notifications weren’t loading properly lmao THANK YOU! this was supposed to be just a short one but here we are with a part two and a bit bigger word count m’gonna need rest and need more time for the preggo fic

part 1

Wordlessly, you left the team. You returned to your own Earth and did your own thing again. There was a slight tinge of unfamiliarity, knowing that you might never work with other spider people, your friends, again, but you forced the feeling down.

Miguel’s outburst haunted you wherever you went. Even as you fought villains that disturbed the peacefulness of your home, even as you mingled with the other civilians and hung out with your friends, even as you laid down in the comfort of your bed, his words would constantly echo through your head, and they would threaten the fall of your tears every single time.

If Miguel thought you were annoying, what about your other friends? Do they think you were bothersome as well? Maybe, you bitterly thought as you brought your knees to your face. Maybe the civilians don’t like you as well. The thought of the people you treasure and care for so dearly, the people whom you devoted most of your life to save, the people whom you risk getting hurt every day for, hating you, left you breathless.

More tears fell, and you gasped. The ache in your heart was too much to bear and seemed to sting your entire being. You clutched your chest as you laid sideways on your bed, pillows and blanket long scattered on the floor. You tried to muffle your cries, but it was useless, as they still vibrated through the room of your apartment.

Oh, god. Please don’t hate me. Don’t hate me, please. Don’thatemepleasedon’thatemeplease—

“[Name]?” the familiar voice momentarily halted you in your weeping. You slowly rose a bit, supporting yourself on your arm and looked towards the source of it. Peter’s worried look greeted you as he crawled himself out of your window.

“Oh, [Name].” you wavered at his heartbroken voice. He immediately rushed in to hug you. He sat on your bed beside you and embraced you. He rocked you back and forth, one hand on the back of your head that leaned into the crook of his neck, and one hand caressed your back.

“P-Peter, I ca– I can’t,” you hiccupped, and with shaking fingers, you gripped his suit tight. You felt your heart would burst with the way it was beating so fast and hard, ringing in your ears. “I can’t— I can’t breathe.”

“It’s okay, [Name]. I got you. I’m here, okay?” his voice was slightly muffled by the top of your head, but you could still hear him. “I want you to listen to me. Stay with me, yeah?”

You tried your best to respond, but it felt like your body wasn’t listening to you. He pulled back a little and held your face in his hands. You look at his eyes full of undisguised concern overflowing, and you desperately hope he doesn’t hate you too. You gathered what was left of your little strength and nodded weakly.

“Can you tell me three things around your room?” you try to look around as you cling to his arms. You looked away from his eyes and looked around you. Your old lampshade provided you with dim lighting in your dark, cold room. Your messy books were in disarray on the table. You saw a mirror. You saw yourself and how miserable you looked. Your face was wet with tears, and your eyes were red. You also saw how Peter looked at you with such solicitude, and you want to cry all over again.

“Um, lampshade.” You said and winced at the painful scratch in your throat and your hoarse voice. “Books. Mirror.”

“Good job. You did well. Can you move three body parts for me?” you unclasped your hands from his arms and tried to clench and unclench them. You wiggled your head out of his hold, embarrassment starting to creep onto you being seen so sticky and so wet and such a mess. It was fortunate that he understood and he chuckled. You were silent for a moment, and you didn't know what else to move so you settled on headbutting Peter.

“Ow! Of all things, really? Can't believe this is what I get,” he grumbled as he rubbed his forehead. You giggled at his exaggerated expression and unknowingly to you, your tears had stopped flowing, and only hiccups remained.

“Are you feeling better, [Name]? You can talk to me, my shoulder is vacant for you. Or do you want me to just stay quiet? Because yeah, I can do either. Just tell me what to do,” you chuckled even more at that. “I’ll even give you a pass for laughing at me.”

Seeing Peter comfort you like that, there was a sense of relief wash over you. It was obvious he was being genuine with you and if he wasn't, he most likely wouldn't even have the patience to sit with you and let you cry on him.

“It's nothing, um, it's just that,” you sighed as you weakly played with your fingers. The words are lodged in your throat, and you slowly breathe out. He looked at you with encouragement to take it slow, to breathe and you did. “I found out people at the headquarters think I talk too much and they didn’t really like me. Then I made Miguel mad, and I learned how I was annoying him. He probably hates me. And, uh, it got me thinking, what if you and Jess and Hobie think the same way? What if everyone thinks the same way?”

There was an urge to cry again, but it felt like you had cried it all out. There was none left for you to cry anymore.

“Wow, I knew Miguel was all bite and no bark, but I didn’t expect he’d bite that deep. What the hell is wrong with him?” the genuine disbelief made you sputter and chuckle.

“First of all, whoever doesn’t like you is automatically wrong. I mean, who could not like you? You literally make everyone’s day. Jess loves gushing with you about her husband, and Hobie loves talking about how his punk stuff and fighting the literal government which I think it’s really pretty cool of him don’t tell him that he’s going to tell me I should do it as well and I just can’t,” he said. “And I love talking to you because you’re funny and so positive you just know how to make me cheer up. Besides, I’m talking too much now, aren’t I? Always have been. But did you think I was annoying?”

“No! I never once thought you were one.” You replied without a beat.

“Exactly. Us either. Look, [Name], everyone loves you. Trust me when I say that.” He said with confidence and finality that you had no choice but to believe him,

“But, Miguel..”

“He's stupid. I know. Don’t mind what he said because it’s all bullshit anyways.” He grins. “Lyla told me what happened. I’m not taking his side because what he said is just wrong and I get you, you know? Having to hear all of that hurts. But from the bottom of my heart, I think Miguel did not mean what he said. Like, all the pent-up stress got to his head and boom, it suddenly burst out. I’m not saying that it was a valid reason, no. I just wanted to let you know that he doesn’t truly think you’re annoying, you know?”

“Besides, from all the time I knew him, I had never seen him genuinely enjoy his time with someone nor mope so bad when you didn’t come to the headquarters anymore.” He said with a deadpan expression at the end.

“Pfft, really?”

“Yes, really.”

There was a pause, it wasn’t awkward but it made you appreciate him more for coming here for you. He smiled at you and you did too, leaning on his shoulder for support. He hugged you sideways, one arm rubbing the side of your arm and you closed your eyes.

“I missed you, [Name]. We all did.”

“...I missed you all too.”

The decision to come back to the headquarters was a bit hard but you took it slow with Peter’s support. He never rushed you nor forced you to come back which you really appreciated and when you did return, you were sure you didn’t regret it. Jess and Hobie immediately latched onto you, they hugged you tight and told you how much they missed you so bad. They asked you how had you been, if you were alright, if were you hurt, and all that. Seeing their sincere worry for you, you smiled hard enough to hurt your cheeks and slowly you were going back to the old, happy you.

What changed right now was that you avoided Miguel. When you first returned to the headquarters, Miguel was there a bit far away from you. You could feel his earnest gaze at you and you looked at him briefly. The bags underneath his eyes seemed to be bigger and you wonder if he had gotten a bit bigger too. A reminder of his words rang instantly through your head and you breathed deeply silently. You quickly looked away as soon as you laid your eyes on him and that remained true for a couple of weeks.

During the briefing of your missions, he would look at you expectantly as if you would stand beside him like you always did. But you usually stood nearby Hobie who was at the entrance of his office. Sometimes you stood beside Jess and Peter which was a bit near him but not quite so.

“You’re not gonna be near him?” Hobie once asked as he lay down on a flat surface. He nudged his head in Miguel’s direction who was looking at you a couple of times as he talked about the mission details. You smiled bitterly.

“Aight, guess I got more time to catch up with you, huh?” the tip of his lips lifted up, “Wanna leg it and come join the protest in my home?”

“Oh no.” you silently snorted.

“What? It’s fun and we’re doing the right thing, you know.”

“Hobie, are you listening?” Miguel’s voice interrupted you both. You look away, not yet keen on looking at him.

“Yes, big boss. Ears open for you, don’t worry about me,” he stretched his arms before he folded them to lay his head on his clasped fingers. You wondered why he hadn’t called you when you weren’t really listening to him as well. Maybe he targeted Hobie on purpose to make you feel uncomfortable? You bit your lip. No, that can’t be. Peter said Miguel didn’t hate you and you trusted him so despite the voices haunting voices once more, you decided to believe in him.

Sometimes, you two would meet outside the building on his favourite Mexican stand outside the building. Maybe it was a habit formed over the time you knew him that you would buy him his empanadas. Now that you couldn’t bring yourself to talk to him just yet, you bought some for yourself. You could not deny that you missed buying his food, only to eat half of it yourself.

“Ah, it’s [Name]! How have you been? I haven’t seen you in so long!” Mrs. Flores exclaimed as soon as she saw your walking figure towards her. You two have gotten close a bit back then and has since then insisted you to call her ‘Abuela’. “Have you lost weight? You’ve gotten smaller since I last saw you!”

You didn’t think you did but before you could deny she was immediately cooking some empanadas, “Just wait, I’ll cook some for you, okay? No need to pay.”

“Abuela, thank you, but I can’t accept this without payment. Please, let me pay,” you opened your wallet and took some money but she wasn’t having it.

“No! I told you I don’t need any money! Do I look like I need some, huh? Don’t make me angry,” she threateningly pointed her clamps at you. You just sighed, knowing full well that her stubbornness was stronger than any villain you had fought. Suddenly, a figure crept behind you and you paid it no mind, figuring it was some other customer but the voice surprised you.

“Buenas tardes, Señora. Lo de siempre por favor.” You looked at Miguel in reflex. He wore a plain white shirt and trousers and oh, he was so close to you. His mouth opened as if he wanted to say something but hesitation dripped from him so you took the opportunity to look away and stepped to your side to create some distance between you.

“Oh, ¿es tú novio, [Name]? ¡Lo sabía! Why didn’t you say so? He’s been the one buying empanadas instead when you were gone.” You choked on your own saliva and embarrassment immediately crept up your cheeks. You coughed it out as she side-eyed you. Miguel was silent and you wonder if he wasn’t going to clear this misunderstanding up.

“You had a fight, didn’t you?”

“No, Abuela, he’s not my boyfriend—”

“He isn’t? ¡Qué hombre más estúpido! Are your eyes not properly working? What are you still waiting for?” she snorted at him. The bubbling noises from the oil fill the silence as you didn’t really know how to respond in this situation.

“Well whatever, you will fix it, won’t you?” she glared at him. In that moment, you felt loved once more and you were starting to truly believe that those who said you were annoying were wrong. You bit your lip. You did not deny to yourself that you were expecting to hear his answer.

“I will.” He replied with such determination and resolution as he looked at you. Your heart throbbed, you saw how much he wanted to fix things right with you and you didn’t know how to feel. Glad? Happy? But you also felt upset at yourself because you almost wanted to smile just because of that and it felt like you were too easy in forgiving him even though he hurt you so much. You quickly dismissed the confusing feelings down and when Abuela gave you the empanadas, you hurriedly slipped some bills while you took the food and almost ran off.

But everything would have to come to an end, including this avoidance of yours of him. You sorted out your thoughts, and your feelings, each day as you avoided him like a plague after numerous encounters because you feared that if you saw him one more time, you would burst out and say things that you didn’t mean like he did.

On the day that you decided to finally stop everything and just talk to him, you were beaten to it by Miguel. You were looking through the windows in the building and stared at the beautiful blue skies and the white clouds that decorated it. The flying cars and the mega train running vertically were like the birds and the beam of sunlight back in your home and you were reminded of the differences you and Miguel had.

“[Name],” his voice was so soft, so unlike the tone he had the day he yelled at you. You admit you had gotten comfortable with the pain you felt since that day that you still wanted to evade his gazes and attempts to reach out to you. But the rational part of you, the one that grew from the pain, knew you had to meet his eyes this time. To let him reach you this time. And so you did. You looked at him, you looked at his eyes that were looking at you so desperately, so hesitatingly.

“Can we talk, please? Just the two of us,” he said but to you, it felt like he pleaded with the way his eyebrows furrowed and his jaw was clenched, awaiting your words that seemed like it would decide his fate.

“Okay,” you breathed out and he did too. The crease on his forehead slowly thinned out and his shoulders moved back. You knew that if someone different saw Miguel like this, they would think he was normal and that he wasn’t acting differently. But you knew better. Despite the tough shell he portrayed, there was a man vulnerable just like you. You just had a soft shell.

You two went to his office and the door closed behind you two. He asked Lyla to not let anyone enter for at least a while so nobody would disturb you both. She saw you and waved brightly at you. She then nodded and finally disappeared.

“Before you say anything, can you honestly answer this one question I have? Just one, please,” you asked him, nerves started to creep onto you and you wanted to look away so bad but you have to search for the truth in his eyes. You have to know his answer to your question.

“Sure, yes. I’ll be honest, I swear.” He promised you.

“Did you ever really think I was annoying? That all I do was nothing but cause trouble for you?”

“Never.”

“Liar.” You were disappointed. You were not as stupid and oblivious as others thought of you. There was a part of yourself that knew that you were bothering them. That you were bothering him. But you couldn’t help it. You cared for him and if talking too much, if bothering him would make him distracted from the grief and the pain he had from Gabriella then you would gladly do it.

“No, I wasn’t lying, [Name]—” you looked away. He couldn’t even be honest with you. Were you that unworthy of honesty? That was all you had asked. You clenched your fist and let your nails dig into your palm. “Listen to me, please.”

You start to walk away.

“[Name], por favor,”

You were nearing the exit.

“I— fuck it, yes! I didn’t like you because you were so annoying. I hated you.” You immediately looked back at him. Disbelief was obvious in your face and tears fell from your eyes. You felt a sense of betrayal at this. If he hated me so much, then why did he let me so close to him? Were you just a show to him? Were you entertaining? He was approaching you and strength had left your legs from the shock at what he said but you remained still.

“I hated the way you talked so much I felt like I was losing a part of myself because I wanted to know more about you and listen to you talk. I hated the way you know so much about me. I felt like you could see through me and I was so scared that you would hate me if you knew what I truly am. I hated the way you cared for me like no other because I cared for you too and I was so terrified to lose you too. I hated the way you’re so reckless, you don’t care if you get hurt as long as it’s for others.” He stopped in front of you and tears were also coming out from his eyes. “I hated the way you captured my whole attention whenever you’re there by my side because I can’t look at anything else anymore. I can’t work properly anymore. I can’t think properly anymore and– and I, oh fuck.”

What?

“You’re so annoying because you distract me so much. I hated you because I fell for you and you’re all I could think about and I just don’t know anymore,” he shakily breathed out. His figure was so big but at this moment, you felt like he was so small. His tears ran continuously like a furious stream and you were sure yours were too.

“When you left, it didn’t feel right anymore. I missed you talking to me. I missed you eating my food. I missed you annoying me. I missed you so much it hurts.” His voice turned hoarse and you finally moved. You caressed your hand on his cheeks and he leaned his face against your touch. “Lo siento, [Name]. I really am. Es la verdad, por favor créeme. Por favor…”

“Are you stupid? Why didn’t you tell me?” you cried out as you wrapped your arms around his neck and hugged him tight. But you couldn’t really blame him. Because he was the same as you. Despite his flying cars and vertical running train and your birds and beam of sunlight, there was still the same blue sky and white clouds. Despite his tough shell and your soft one, you two were just as vulnerable as the other.

“I’m sorry, don’t hate me please…” he croaked out and gripped onto your suit tight. You leaned back a bit to hold his face in your palms. His face was wet, his hair was a mess, and he looked so haggard. You lean your forehead against his.

“I don’t, I promise. I could never hate you and I hate you for it as well,” you giggled amidst your tears.

Really, he was such a stupid man and you were so annoying.

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