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fanfic-me-up · 4 years

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Capture This! || Kaminari Denki

Synopsis: You walk in on Denki, your best friend of five years, getting off. Two questions: Why is there a picture of you? And why do you want him to take more?

Pairing: Kaminari Denki x fem!reader

Warnings: M/E+, 18+, explicit sexual content

Word Count: 6k+

A/N: This is for the @bnhabookclub bingo event! Thank you @shoutogepi and @im-here-for-the-heroes for beta reading. Shout out to @whats-her-quirk this fic was born from me poppin in during your thirst hours lol

“Lotion? Check. Tissues? Check. Pictures?”

Denki swallows.

“Check.”

It’s routine for Denki, really the only ritual he sticks to in his otherwise scatterbrained schedule of kickin’ ass, chilling with friends, and playing Fortnite till ungodly hours of the morning.

But he can’t help it. You’re fucking gorgeous, and Denki has needs - his brain programmed to get off at least three times a day else he can’t function. The first time it happened, he felt a deep sense of shame, twisting his gut, disgusted with himself that he defiled your image. He couldn’t look you in the eye for a week until you had enough and demanded to know what was up. It was the first time he lied to you.

But one time became two, and three, and suddenly Denki needed an image of you all the time. The one of you looking all pretty in that stupid summer dress was his favorite. You bought it that one time you dragged him to the mall because you needed a “guy’s opinion.” He rushed to the bathroom because if he didn’t get out fast, he was gonna drag you back into the changing room and rip that dress off himself.

You’re adorable, hot, sexy, and absolutely terrifying, wrapped up in one perfect package.

Oh, and did he forget to mention?

Totally off-limits.

This is why Denki has to resort to hanging out with you, listening to you vent about your boy problems, and how you just want to meet “the one” already. Denki’s heart breaks a little more every time you shove him deeper into the friend zone, all the while pretending like he didn’t just jerk it to you a couple hours before.

He works his hand up and down his shaft, growing harder by the second with each stroke. It doesn’t take much to get him going, not when it’s you. You’re wearing his hoodie, toes buried in the sand, roasting a marshmallow in front of a bonfire. You’re smiling at something Kirishima said, Denki doesn’t remember what, because all he could see was the light in your eyes. A genuine spark lit only when the cameras were off, and you were unaware of anyone watching. Denki loved witnessing these rare moments; wanted to commit it to memory, so he did. When you posted the picture on Instagram, Denki was more than surprised; you had scrunched your nose when he showed you the picture, displeased with how you looked.

This should not be happening. Any normal person would feel ashamed when staring at a picture of their best friend and touching themselves. No one knew about it, and Denki was surprised he was able to keep it a secret for this long considering he’s friends with fucking Mina of all people.

Enough pre-cum bubbles at the tip that he doesn’t even need the lotion. Staring at you on the screen, wearing his hoodie that’s way too big it covers your thighs completely, makes his mind wander to all sorts of ways he wishes he could get you out of that hoodie. He leans back into the chair, spreading his legs with his eyes half-lidded, imagining what your lips might look like wrapped around his cock.

“Fuck yeah...”

Groaning at the image of you on your knees, lips bruised and slicked with spit from fucking your pretty little mouth has Denki tightening his fist, hips fucking into his hand in a continuous rhythm.

He’s on the verge of coming when the door swings open - the first and last person Denki wants to walk in is standing there in front of him.

“Hey, I called, but you didn’t - ah!” You squeak, throwing the box you’re holding. A sea of random knick-knacks and hero merch rains over you. You hear a thump when the yellow polaroid camera you bought for Denki at a thrift shop hits the floor.

“Fuck!” Denki jumps from his chair, an array of pens fall in a heap to the floor.

You whip your head away, heat spikes your body, embarrassed that you saw your best friend in such a compromising position.

Denki mutters a repeated “shit shit shit” to himself for a good minute before he finally addresses you; his voice rising with each word.

“How did you get in here!?”

“Spare key, dumbass!”

“That’s for emergencies only!”

“Are you talking to me with your dick out!?”

Silence.

“No?”

You huff at the uncertainty in his tone. It’s only two o’clock, and you can already feel a migraine coming on.

“Denki, if I turn around and you’re not covered, so help me god I will-”

“Okay, okay, I got it. Pants are zipped.”

You don’t move until you hear the confirming “zip” before slowly opening your eyes (you have no idea why your eyes were closed in the first place), and you turn around to find Denki leaning against the desk. He’s trying his best to appear casual, but the flush on his face and frazzled hair give away what he was doing moments before you walked in. You don’t know where it comes from, but the thought alone stirs something inside you.

The confusing emotion is replaced by hot-blooded anger when you lock eyes on the screen behind him.

“Is that my face!?”

Denki’s smile drops as he turns around. Dammit. Of course, he forgot to close the tab.

“Uhhh…”

He has no words, none, not when you’re standing there with that intense look in your eyes you get when you’re about to rip someone a new one. Your anger could rival Bakugou’s, and Denki has unfortunately been in the middle of one too many screaming matches. He’s surprised his eardrums aren’t blown out by now.

He clicks to exit out, or at least he thinks he does until he comes to the dumb realization that he’s clicking the zoom button instead.

“Ho-hold on, let me just…”

With each click, it zooms a little more into your face until only your nose is in the frame. Denki sheepishly looks up at you.

“Oops?”

Denki’s had a good life. He’s already come farther than most ever dream in their career when becoming a pro-hero, and he’s made some amazing friends most spend years trying to find. The only regret of his is not confessing his true feelings to you, but really what’s one regret? He’s totally a-okay with saying goodbye to this cruel, cruel world if it meant not being subjected to this torture any longer.

“Denki Kaminari.”

Denki gulps. Oh no. You only say his full name when you mean business.

“Explain right this instant or I will walk out this door and tell the whole world how you and grape boy took body shots off cardboard cutouts of each other!”

“Hey! We were really fuckin’ drunk and thought it might score us some pity sex with the ladies!”

“In what world would you licking fuckin’ Mineta equal oh yeah, fuck me, Denki?”

Denki cowers with each step you take, gulping down the lump in his throat when your face is close enough to hold in his hands. He’s never been more simultaneously turned on and terrified in his life. Especially when he just heard the words “fuck me, Denki” escape your lips.

Don’t look down. Don’t look down. Whatever you do. Don’t. Look. Down.

The last thing he wants is you flinging him out the window because he couldn’t keep his eyes on your face. Don’t get him wrong; he could look at your face forever, even when you look like your one move away from killing him. But… he’s a dude, and there’s boobs in front of him, not to mention your boobs.

“Hello? Earth to Denki?” You wave your hand in his face.

“You may wanna sit down for this.”

“I’m fine where I am, thank you very much.”

He huffs out a breath, annoyed you didn’t take the bait. The suggestion was more for his sanity than yours. With you standing so close, his brain is going haywire; the tantalizing scent of strawberries and cream short-circuiting his brain quicker than when he overuses his quirk. It never fails to make his mouth water, if only he could bend down and bury his nose in the crook of your neck, god, he’d never let you go.

How does he even begin to work through the feelings he has for you when they’ve been bottled up since the moment he knew he was in deep? Where does he start?

The fact he’s been in love with you for the past five years?

Or that he’s been getting off to you for half that time?

Denki’s mind is running a mile a minute, like a computer in overdrive. He can’t make enough sense of his emotions to convert into words. But, instead of waiting to open his mouth, like a normal person, Denki spews out embarrassing word vomit that connects his two thoughts.

“I love getting off to you.”

A pin could drop, and it’d be as loud as a freaking hurricane.

Denki groans in frustration, facepalming his forehead. What the hell did he just say, and can he take it back? How long would it take for him to hack into a database and find someone with a time manipulation quirk? He doesn’t even know how to hack, but he’d wrangle his one brain cell and fucking learn if that’s what it takes.

He’s usually good at reading you. You’re one of the few people he cares enough to pick up on how you’re feeling. The myriad of emotions that pass on your face from shock to confusion to a hint of amusement lets Denki know he can breathe easy. At least you’re not trying to kill him anymore.

“Oh-kay that’s not what I - what I meant to say was - hold on, lemme just, rewind.”

He makes some weird, loopy gesture with his arms. His brain was firing a million synapses at once, each connected to a different thought, some deep like the fear of losing you and some not so deep - like he’s really excited to eat the cheeseburgers Bakugou promised he’d grill tonight.

But he tries his best to reign in the million and one thoughts to focus on you, who’s waiting for an explanation. He takes a deep breath to steady his heart that’s about to beat out of his chest. He only hopes you don’t stomp on it after what he’s about to say.

“I’m in love with you, Y/N. I have been since our first year at U.A. I wanted to tell you for the longest time, but then you got with Bakugou. Then you broke up, and you needed a friend more than ever, and how could I say no to being ‘your best bro’ when you were crying on my shoulder? It was just never the right time.”

The more he rambled, the more uncomfortable he felt. Out of all the scenarios he imagined of how he’d confess to you, this one was at the bottom of his list to be prepared for. He never expected to be forced into confessing because you caught him masturbating to pictures of you. He rubs the back of his neck and gives an awkward laugh when you stay silent.

“I get it if you wanna, like, shun me forever or something. I deserve it for being such a creep.”

Denki lowers his head to the floor, the clutter of fallen pens and knick-knacks looks way less intimidating than staring into your eyes. A soft hand touches his chin, lifting his face to meet yours.

“Hey, look at me, it’s okay.”

Your voice does wonders for soothing the nerves shaking him up.

“I guess it’s not that creepy when you put it like that, and for some weird reason, you’re like the one person I can catch jacking off to my pictures, and I don’t feel the need to report you as a registered sex offender.”

It’s meant to be reassuring, but Denki’s heart drops at the idea of you labeling him as the neighborhood perv.

“Please, don’t do that,” he squeaks before clearing his throat, “But for real, Y/N, I’m so sorry. It’s wrong to disrespect you like that, and I promise I won’t do it again.”

Denki has no idea how he’s gonna get off now, but that’s his future self’s problem.

“I can’t help it, you’re gorgeous, and I love ya, and I don’t remember the last time I got laid.”

Fuck. He didn’t mean to say that last part, but it’s the truth. You’re the reason he couldn’t even look at another girl, because they weren’t you, and that’s why he had to resort to pulling up pictures of you. Pictures that aren’t normally deemed “sexy” and of you dressed modestly, without much skin showing.

That doesn’t stop Denki from coming in record time with your name rolling off his lips every time.

“How bad do you want me?”

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t the least bit curious about what sex with your best friend would be like. You heard he wasn’t a bad lay from a couple girls back at U.A.

You’d also be lying if you didn’t say you were just as horny as said best friend.

It’s difficult finding time to date as a pro-hero. When you do, it doesn’t last very long anyway - the other person growing tired of always coming second to your career. Don’t even get you started on one night stands. They’re practically impossible to uphold as once the media gets wind of it, you’re slapped on the cover of “Hero Times Magazine,” and everyone and their mother is calling for you to “spill the tea.” This is why pro-heroes either end up with other pro-heroes or end up alone.

Denki’s eyebrows shoot straight to his hairline. If someone were to tell him you were attracted to him in any sense of the word, his heart would double-time it, but he’d ultimately brush it off. He knew your type, and he could not be farther from it. The aggressive, beefy, gym rat who could match you move for move in a heated spar of harsh words and hot-blooded passion. You dated Bakugou for fuck’s sake! There was no hope for Denki after that.

But he’ll be damned if he doesn’t take what he can get. The words pour out of him like the dam’s been broken and the unforgiving flood rushes.

“I want you so bad, Y/N, fuck, I’ve waited so long, so fucking long, you don’t know how crazy you make me.”

Your breath catches. His words have an unexpected effect on you, but your heart drums in anticipation. If you listen close enough, you can hear Denki’s beating at the same rate, waiting for what you’re going to say next. Power surges through you. In your past relationships, sex was always seen as this competition. Your exes never wanted to relinquish their pride or control, but Denki is nothing like your exes. He’s laid-back, always cracking jokes, and never dwelling too much on the past, always moving forward to the next moment. He’s perfectly fine with letting you take the reins most of the time. You determine what will happen next.

“You love getting off to me?”

It’s a rhetorical question, but he answers in earnest.

“You’re the only one I get off to.”

You slide your dress off, and it falls to the floor.

“Show me.”

Denki’s eyes travel over your body, his mouth slightly open in disbelief at your undressed state. He wants to capture this moment in case this is as much as he gets, even if he can never use this mental picture because he promised you he wouldn’t. His fingers itch to brush along the lace trim of your bra, to graze along your nipple, and watch your reaction. Are you sensitive enough where you’d full on moan, or would he have to strain to catch the small hitch of breath? Denki was never top of his class. He preferred to wing it and hope for the best, but for you, he’d take his time to study every inch and crevice of your body until he could read you cover to cover with his eyes closed. His gaze travels down to the matching lace panties you wear, a cute little bow in the front waiting to be untied with his teeth.

Did you plan to get fucked today? Or do you usually wear matching sets on the regular?

Your skin looks so soft and supple, he’s aching to dig his fingers, but before he can, you step away. Denki cocks his head. Have you changed your mind? But any doubt leaves Denki when you make your way across the room to sit down on the edge of the bed.

You start with feather-light touches dancing along your collarbone. Your eyes are locked on Denki, getting high on the way he drinks in your every move. Your touches are teasing, especially when your finger dips down to your cleavage. Still, instead of giving Denki what he wants, you change course, making your way back to your shoulders. Denki exhales a breath at your teasing, but says nothing, too afraid he’ll ruin the mood if he says something stupid.

When you make your way down again, you don’t disappoint; you pinch your nipple through your bra, and the way Denki swipes his tongue over his lip has heat rushing to your core. You slide your hand down your stomach, stopping when you reach your clothed slit. Denki stares, hungry and buzzing in anticipation for what you’ll do next. Smirking in victory, you spread your legs open and pull your panties to the side, giving him the view to capture the perfect picture of your dripping pussy.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

You taunt breathlessly, tracing your folds with your fingers.

Oh shit. Were you for real? Please, tell him you were for real because he legit might cry if this was some elaborate prank. Where are the fucking cameras?

“You don’t want to?” You bite your lip, insecurity seeping through the confident smile you wore just a moment ago.

“No! I mean - yes! Yes, I do, holy shit, let me find - where the fuck is…” Denki whips around, trying to find his phone. Fuck! Out of all the times to misplace it, it has to be now. But then he spots the yellow polaroid camera sitting on the floor, and before he can think, he’s picking it up and praying it has film. He kneels, so he’s eye level with your pussy, but also making sure the angle gets your whole body in the frame. The light streaming in gives you an ethereal look, your skin glowing, and adding to the cute flush on your cheeks. The camera clicks, and a second later, the picture slides out. You giggle at Denki’s impatience. He’s waving the picture frantically in the air, so the color comes through faster. He completely stills when he can finally take a good look at the beauty he’s captured.

“Fuck, Y/N, you look…”

Denki can’t control the groan that escapes. He looks back up at you, eyes darkened with lust before he’s ripping his shorts off so fast, his foot gets caught, and he almost trips in the process. Once he’s out of them, he plops back down in the chair across the room. You’re surprised when all you feel is pure, unadulterated lust. You expected to be at least a little bit weirded out staring at your best friend’s cock, but all you want is to put it in your mouth and explore all the different ways you can make him come. The tip is oozing pre-cum already, and the way he works his hand with a sense of urgency suggests he’s been hard for a while. It doesn’t take long before you hear Denki grunt.

“Fuck, I’m close.”

You look so pretty spread out for him. For the last five years, he wanted nothing more than to see you like this. His hips jerk up, and he throws his head back, but he makes sure to keep his eyes open like his life depended on it; he didn’t want to miss a second of this. You, with your legs wide open giving him a view of your perfect little pussy. Your panties soaked by you rubbing your clit mercilessly, and your pupils blown wide as you watch your best friend get off to the show you’re giving him. It’s erotic as hell, completely different from the pictures Denki has of you. This one easily tops all the others. He tightens his fist - he doesn’t want it to end without feeling your skin on his at least once.

“Let me touch you, Y/N, please, I just wanna touch you, need to feel you.”

Denki doesn’t give a fuck that he’s begging at this point. He’s waited too damn long to care about pride or dignity, not when the chance to fuck you is placed in his shaking hands. You bite your lip to suppress a moan, but it comes out anyway.

“Touch me.”

That’s all Denki needs. Before you know it, you’re pushed down on the bed, and lips smash against yours. He’s eager, a little too eager, shoving his tongue in your mouth and touching everywhere that he can. You don’t have much room to breathe, so you gently push at his chest.

“Chill, Denki.”

He huffs out a breath, muscles shaking like he’s restraining himself from overwhelming you.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,”

He mumbles, peppering kisses into your neck before making his way back to your lips. It’s much smoother this time, his tongue sliding out to tease your bottom lip, asking for permission this time. He groans when you open up for him, your tongue meeting his. Hands trail up until they reach around, resting on the clasp of your bra. Honey eyes meet yours, but you cut off his question.

“I’ll stop you if I need to, but you asking me if it’s okay every time you try something is gonna seriously kill the mood.”

You reach around to place your hands on top of his, unclasping your bra along with him. His eyes darken at the sight of your bare chest. You try not to squirm at the intensity of his gaze. It becomes near impossible when he dips down to flick his tongue over your nipple before biting with his teeth. He pays the same attention to the other one before kissing his way down your stomach. You arch your back when he spreads your legs and positions himself between them. He makes his way around, avoiding your dripping pussy, teasing your thighs with soft kisses. You huff in annoyance, and he smirks up at you, biting into the flesh of your thigh. This time he places a kiss to your heated center, enjoying the way you squirm under his touch.

“Is it everything you imagined?” You ask.

He looks up at you, with such a serious expression, one you’ve only seen a couple times since knowing him.

“Everything and more.”

Your heart flutters, and you know you’re going to say something you’ll regret if you don’t stop counting the different shades of gold in his eyes. You clear your throat before throwing your hair back.

“You gonna fuck me, or am I gonna have to do it myself?”

You pull his head in for a demanding kiss, biting on his lip to distract yourself from the rush of bubbling emotions threatening to surface.

“One sec,” Denki whispers, placing one last kiss to your lips, before getting up.

You gape at the giant box of condoms he casually pulls out. It hasn’t been opened, and oh my god, you didn’t even know they made huge boxes like this. There were at least a hundred in there. What person thinks to buy a big box of condoms if their plans don’t include… fucking a whole ass army?

“What the fuck, Denki?”

People usually have one, maybe two condoms in their wallet at most. Some guys don’t have any at all, which kills the mood when you’re in the heat of the moment, so I guess you can be thankful that Denki is... extra prepared?

“What?”

He pulls a condom out and drops the box. It thumps when it hits the floor. You’re taken aback by how nonchalant he’s being about this.

“I- you- wha- How many times do you think we’re gonna do it!?”

Denki slides the condom on, smirking at your shocked expression.

“Till we finish this box,” he says as he slides into you.

You gasp at the stretch. He pushes to the hilt, and stays there when he notices the slight furrow of your brow. It has been a while since you’ve fucked, but soon enough, you crave more so you roll your hips, but he doesn’t move.

“Denki?”

His head is pressed into your neck, warm breath tickling your skin, and the stuttering heartbeat matches to the beat of your own.

“Just… gimme a minute, don’t wanna ruin it by coming in two seconds.”

His words are muffled, voice raspy with desire, and you can only imagine what his face looks like. It makes you want him all the more. Finally, someone who doesn’t see sex as an opportunity to one-up you or to put you in your place. It’s scary how the last twenty minutes have changed five years of friendship.

“Hey,” you hold his face in between your palms. He already looks completely fucked out with his face flushed and eyes glazed. You place a tender kiss to his lips, unlike the previous kisses you shared.

“You couldn’t ruin it even if you did come right now.”

You caress his hair in an attempt to reassure him.

“You’d just have to make it up to me,” you wink.

His smile is so pure, lighting up his eyes that’s unique to Denki; it makes your heart do somersaults in your chest. But the moment passes as the previous heat between you two spikes when Denki circles his hips, taking his time to feel you inside and out. He’s touching and kissing you wherever he can, your cheek, neck, chest, thighs, like it’s the first and last time he’ll experience you like this. It might very well be.

This thought doesn’t sit well with you.

Once he’s mapped out your sweet spots, he digs his fingers into your thighs and pulls your hips flush towards his. He pulls out of you until only the tip is brushing your opening and pounds back into you, taking your breath away. He pumps in and out of you faster, and you cry out when he hits that special spot deep inside of you.

“Denki,” you moan. He grunts and spreads your legs even wider, grabbing one and hauling it over his shoulder to pound into you deeper.

He’s getting close, hell, he’s been close even before you walked in.

“F-fuck…” Denki groans, thrusting at an uneven pace and feeling the familiar tightening in his groin.

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you flip him over and begin bouncing on his cock in a much more steady rhythm. Denki’s staring up at you, eyes wide in admiration.

You’re a goddess. An absolute fucking masterpiece that needs to be put in a museum for his eyes only. God, when did he get so fucking mushy? You always brought out different sides that Denki, himself, didn’t even know he had. He can’t keep his hands off you, grabbing your boobs, sliding down the curves of your thighs, gripping your ass. He wants to commit it all to memory in case he never gets to know this pleasure again.

“Y/N, ah, shit, I’m gonna...” he trails off, unable to finish his sentence.

He’s holding on to that sweet release for as long as he can. He’s been craving it since he met you on the first day of class at U.A. His balls tighten, unable to hold it in any longer, before he gives in to the long overdue orgasm. It hits him hard - his entire body tingling from head to toe like 1000 volts of electricity bolt through him. Denki had no idea he could come for this long, but he doesn’t want it to end - it feels so fucking good inside you. He rides it out for a couple more thrusts before he relaxes, completely sated. You try to pull off him, but he grabs your hips and forces you back down. You squeak, clearly not expecting him to care enough to help you out after he finished.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

The tone of his voice sounds foreign in his ears, too gruff and too deep, but you seem to have no problems with it as you moan in response, working yourself on top of him. Your thighs crush his hips, shaking with need as you seek a release of your own. You’re tired from bouncing, so you resort to grinding, swirling your hips deliciously around his cock. Denki squeezes your ass in appreciation.

“You close?”

“Close, so close, Denki, please…”

Your eyes well up with tears, desperate to finish; the coil in your stomach wound too tight that you might burst any second. Denki helps you by thrusting his hips to meet yours, his hand rubbing your clit. You jolt at the sudden zap to your clit, you look down to see a small spark leave Denki’s fingertip. He does it again, and you cry out, your pussy fluttering from the electrifying touch.

“C’mon, baby, you can do it, come for me.”

Fuck. Denki didn’t mean for the pet name to slip out, but then you’re moaning louder than before that Denki would’ve had to quiet you if you weren’t alone. Words are tumbling out before you can stop them.

“Oh, fuck, Denki, I love this so much, I love you, I-”

You slap your hand over your mouth. Denki’s eyes widen for a second before a dangerous glint takes over, and he wretches your hand away from your mouth.

“Lemme hear you. C’mon, Y/N, show me how much you love this.”

You hardly recognize the scream as your own; you flush at how loud you are, but Denki doesn’t seem to mind. It seems to spur him on. He sits up so your chest to chest before he bends down to tug at your nipple with his teeth. You throw your head back in pleasure, your hands coming around to grab at his hair. Golden eyes look up at you from your chest, a slight smirk curving his lips.

“I’m no photographer, baby girl, but I can sure as hell picture us together.”

Leave it to Denki Kaminari to make you come with a cheesy pickup line.

He gives one final thrust, balls slapping against your ass and hitting the spot deep inside you just right. Your thighs quiver from the pleasure wracking your body, a scream lodging out of your throat so loud that the people next door bang on the wall. You’re overwhelmed to the point that all you can do is rest your head on his shoulder, whispering his name in a broken whimper as you finish.

You fall next to him on the bed, sweaty and completely wiped, both of you trying to catch your breath. Denki tosses the condom in the trash while you stare at the ceiling, watching the fan swirl round and round. Your mind is no different at the moment, going round in circles, and you’re trying to catch up. Your body feels weightless, tingling all over and loving the high you didn’t think was possible. The bed shifts, and suddenly you’re faced with your best friend of five years. Before he can get a word out, the front door slams shut, and two very familiar, very masculine voices are down the hall, getting closer by the second.

“Kaminari, you lazy shit, get the fuck down here!”

“Shit!” Denki jumps from the bed, ruffling through the mess to find his pants.

“Denki, just lock the door! Hurry!”

It’s too late as the door swings open, and yeah… if today taught Denki anything, it’s that he really needs to lock his door more often. He doesn’t have time to think as he hops back into bed with you to avoid flashing any of his other friends today. Bakugou would probably threaten to chop his dick off and… yeah, Denki doesn’t wanna think about the rest.

You squeak and cover yourself with the blanket when you’re met with two sets of equally shocked crimson eyes.

Kirishima drops the bag of chips he’s holding. It seems like dropping things when walking into Denki’s room was a common theme today, and he’s sure as hell not looking forward to the cleanup. Denki regrets chancing a glance at Bakugou; nostrils flaring like a rabid predator on the loose and Denki’s his target.

The four of you stare at each other for who knows how long before Kirishima breaks out into a full-on grin.

“About time, bro, congrats!”

“Congrats?” You turn to Denki, confused.

“The fuck!? You bangin’ my ex, dunceface!?” Bakugou shouts.

“Please don’t hurt me!” Denki squeaks, hiding underneath the covers.

“Oi! You fuck like a man, you better fight like one, too!”

You roll your eyes, hardly affected by Bakugou’s exploding presence, unlike Denki, who is literally shaking beside you.

“Oh fuck off, Katsuki, listen to yourself. Keyword ex-girlfriend.”

Bakugou sputters, and Kirishima drags him by the shoulder.

“Don’t listen to him. He’s been in a mood since he found out he’s gonna be the next star of the Bachelor.”

“You wanna die too, shitty hair!?”

You and Denki burst out laughing at the absurdity of Katsuki forced to act like a gentleman on live TV. The image of Katsuki in a suit and tie, holding a rose and actually smiling, is comedic gold to you.

“C’mon, bro, let’s give ’em some space.”

“Oi! You’re on my shit list now! All of you! Aye! Get the fuck off me!”

Kirishima drags Bakugou the rest of the way, giving you a quick thumbs up on the way out.

You and Denki are still cracking up, but your laughter dies when they leave, and you’re faced with the tension from before. Denki sinks lower into the sheets, hating that he keeps getting walked in on. Who decided it was ‘make a fool out of Denki day’ anyway?

“So…” you start.

“So…” Denki finishes.

You both stare straight ahead at nothing.

“Did you mean it?”

You raise an eyebrow, clearly asking him to elaborate.

“What you said, when you... you know...” he makes a clicking noise with his mouth like that’s universal code for fucking, “Or was it just a heat of the moment thing?”

You take a moment to think before you give your response. You want to be as honest as possible, and not lead Denki on in any way. Of course, you loved him, he’s your best friend, but did you love him?

You think back on your friendship, and suddenly a supercut of all the times he was there for you flashes before your eyes. He was there when you needed someone to drive you when you had your wisdom teeth pulled out. You didn’t expect Denki to stay with you the whole weekend, buying you ice cream and watching your favorite movies, but he did.

He was there when you and Bakugou became an item, always listening to you swoon over how amazing a boyfriend he was. Denki would always respond with “But can he do this?” and would proceed to overuse his quirk like an overpowered Pikachu just to make you laugh. It sends a knife through your heart, knowing Denki was in love with you while you were talking about how great of a boyfriend his friend was. Not to mention how he was there when you and Bakugou broke up, heart-broken and vowing to swear off boys for good. Denki held you in his arms while you cried, staying silent the entire time, which you knew was against his nature. Denki was always there for you as a friend. There’s no doubt he’d be there for you as a lover.

“I meant it,” you say.

Tears threaten to spill, and your heart might burst out of your chest and land right into his hands. You hope he holds on to it forever. He squishes your cheeks and leans down to plant the softest kiss on your lips. This is what you’ve been missing - more like who you’ve been missing. You open your mouth to deepen the kiss, and he meets you move for move. He pulls away, hands still on your cheeks, grazing your cheekbones with his fingertips as he stares into your eyes.

“Denki, I…” You bite your lip, overcome with emotion. You desperately want to say the words to capture this picture-perfect moment forever.

Until you feel something poking your thigh.

“Denki!”

You yell, affronted he popped a boner in the middle of what was supposed to be a romantic moment.

“Sorry!”

“Ugh! Worst timing ever!” You slap his shoulder.

“Ow! I said I’m sorry!”

You wiggle out of his embrace. Silence eats at the room, and you can feel Denki’s energy radiating in uncomfortable frequencies. The last moment had been thoroughly ruined.

But you have all the time in the world to make more.

“... round two?”

Just seeing Denki’s face light up like Christmas is enough to promise the birth of a new moment. He bends over to grab his box of condoms, some spilling on the floor and adding more to the mess, before saying, “hell yeah!”

You roll your eyes with affection. What a weirdo, you think. But he’s your weirdo.

That night, or rather the next day since it was currently three in the morning, Denki plops down on his bed exhausted from the day. He’s fluffing his pillow, trying to get comfortable, when he feels something underneath. His eyes widen when he takes in the picture he’s holding. You must’ve taken it when he was downstairs and snuck it under his pillow. You’re bent over with that same damn lacy bra that sends him for a loop. Your cleavage deliciously on display as you bite your lip and stare at the camera with those innocent eyes. Denki can’t help it, his hand sliding down on instinct and cupping himself through his boxers. He turns the picture around and smiles at the cute little message written on the back.

“To add to your collection 😉”

#kaminari x reader #kaminari denki x reader #bnhabookclub #kaminari denki smut #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha smut #mha smut #kaminari denki #denki kaminari #denki kaminari x reader #bnha fanfic #mha fanfic #kaminari imagine #kaminari denki imagine #kaminari smut

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duskholland · 4 years

Text

Meet Your Match || Mob!Tom Smut

Summary ↠ It’s always awkward when your current boyfriend meets your ex, but it’s a whole new level when it transpires that your ex-boyfriend is the leader of Tom’s rival mob...

Warnings ↠ 18+, contains mature nsfw material. There are extended warnings beneath the cut, but this is quite heavy.

Word count ↠ 5.9k

A/N ↠ Genuinely am shocked that this came out of my head tbh. It is very intense so please consult the warnings before you dive in ! The entire concept of the first half is very random and almost crack, but then the second half...phew. Sheesh. Thanks to V, mischiefandi, for suggesting I write in a hot Irish mobster as Y/N’s ex...love that for her, and I love you V. I hope you all enjoy this :)

This is a part of my mob!Tom series – a collection of oneshots set within the same universe. You don’t need to read the other parts for this to make sense! You can find the other parts in my masterlist.

18+ do not touch this if you are a minor.

extended warnings: lol. mob themes including gun mention and punching, a broken nose ft minor mentions of blood, a bit of a dodgy ex who makes some uncomfortable comments, alcohol, possessive!jealous!Tom, d/s dynamics, soft!dom!Tom, mean!dom!Tom, thigh riding, oral (f receiving), spitting, orgasm denial and edging, guided masturbation, rough sex, doggy-style, like two minor instances of spanking, he calls her slut once. im not here to fuck around this goes hard so if you aren’t into rough stuff this isn’t for you. also includes unprotected sex -- please practise safe sex (condoms provide barriers against STIs as well as unwanted pregnancy. pls be safe irl). i would like mob!tom to rail me thank u. enjoy.

--------- Meet Your Match ---------

You’d never given much thought to the possibility of Tom meeting one of your exes. Why would you, when being with him is infinitely more satisfying, loving, and enjoyable than it had ever been with one of them?

But if you’d had to imagine it, you would’ve pictured it casually. Maybe you’d be out somewhere together - at a café, or a market, with Tom’s arm wrapped safely around you. You’d see your ex - whoever it may be - and there’d be an awkward encounter. The exchange of painful hellos and goodbyes, maybe some piercing stares, and pinched words. Then, you’d move on, and that would be that.

Never, in your wildest dreams, would you have imagined you’d run into your ex-boyfriend whilst in attendance at a meeting of the London mobs.

It’s a special event - a large, networking occasion, organised by Tom, as an opportunity for him to meet with his partners and rivals, as they come together to cordially bond over beer and discuss business plans. It’s hosted right in the centre of Piccadilly, in the elegant conference room of a luxurious hotel. You’re just starting to relax and settle in when you glance across the room and see him:

Aidan. Your ex-boyfriend. At… A meeting of the mobs of London?

“What the fuck,” you mutter. You almost drop your glass of champagne as you narrow your eyes and stare. The conference room is vast, adorned with glittering chandeliers and large banquet tables, but it’s undeniable: Aidan is here.

“Everything alright, love?” Tom’s by your side, one of his arms wrapped loosely around your shoulders. He’s in remarkably high spirits this evening. The event is fully underway, and judging by the snippets of conversation you’ve been hearing, Tom’s latest plans are coming into fruition - something about warehouses, and a shipment of class A drugs. But none of it matters now, because your mind is entirely elsewhere.

“No,” you state immediately.

Tom cranes his neck, his eyes seeking you out. You manage to drag your gaze away from Aidan for a brief second.

“What is it?” He’s looking at you with those deep, warm brown eyes, and his gaze is so tender it makes your breath hitch. One of Tom’s fingers moves up to caress your cheek, and you find yourself shifting guiltily on your feet.

“Who, exactly, did you invite to this meeting?” You ask your boyfriend, speaking in hushed tones. Your eyes slip back to Aidan, and you feel yourself relax as you note he’s still deep in conversation with a few men.

“Suppliers, rivals, allies… Anyone of importance, really.” Tom narrows his eyes, his thumb brushing over your chin as he looks at you closely. “Why?”

“Did you know that you’ve also invited my ex-boyfriend?”

Judging by the look of utter shock on Tom’s face, he had not, in fact, realised his fundamental truth.

“Who?” He asks immediately. His face shifts through several shades before settling on jealous, with his eyebrows bunched together.

You turn around, resting one hand on the broad shoulder of Tom’s suit before using your other to point out across the crowd.

“Aidan.”

Tom squints his eyes, a small rumbling noise travelling up his throat. “Aidan?” He repeats, his voice flooded with confusion. You hum affirmatively. “Bloke with the blond hair? Irish?” Again, a hum. Tom releases a short, curt chuckle. “Angel, he’s not called Aidan.”

“What?” You exclaim.

Tom releases a deep sigh. “That’s Gordy. He runs the Eastside.”

You feel your jaw loosen. A fake name. “Gordy Byrne?”

“The one and only.”

“Shit.”

You’ve been with Tom for a year. Over those long, fulfilling twelve months, you’ve picked up on several important key pieces of information about the London mob: it’s split into three factions, each sector run by a different figurehead. Tom and his family control the South-West, and they’re in constant disagreement with Gordy, of the East, and Monique, of the North. Each third is continuously testing the waters, trying to take over land, and supplies, and emerge as the solo Kingpin of London. The fragile alliance between the three families is constantly on the verge of disintegration.

And Gordy is your ex, who you’d met three years ago at the same exclusive club you’d worked in when you’d met Tom. Your relationship had lasted eight months and ended on equal terms as you’d mutually agreed the spark had fizzled away. Despite the considerable span of your relationship, you’d had no suspicions that he’d been involved with the mob. The thought is incredibly jarring.

“Seems like you have a type,” Tom comments, his voice entirely too flippant.

Before you can call him out on his apparent feelings of resentment, your evening takes a further turn as you realise Gordy has spotted you and is now working his way through the sea of people towards you.

He looks just as you remember: 6’2, blond, green-eyed. His shoulders are stocky and broad, and his suit bulges with disguised muscles. He maintains that signature swagger you’d come to associate with him, his eyes glinting as he throws out a wild smile. Your eyes catch on the presence of a few new golden teeth fixed in his mouth, and then to the tattooed knuckles that hang by his side.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” Gordy greets, green eyes skimming across you appreciatively, “Who’d ‘a thought we’d meet again?”

All you can really do is let out a squeak of agreement, and pull away from Tom’s side to greet the man with a kiss on the cheek. The familiar scent of Gordy’s musky cologne drifts up your nose, and it makes your head spin.

“What are you doing here?” You ask as you pull away, looking at him incredulously. His pale cheeks wear a scruff of fuzz, highlighting the high arches of his cheekbones.

“What are you doing here?” He returns, his Irish accent twanging. His eyes shift over to Tom, then back to you, and then they watch as Tom reaches out and carefully tangles his fingers with yours. “Wait…”

“Evening, mate,” Tom greets, voice a little clipped. You feel the grip on your hand tighten, and you let him reel you back into his side. You find home beneath Tom’s heavy arm as he repositions it across your shoulder, keeping you near. “I see you’ve already met my girlfriend.”

The air seems to flicker with tension.

“Interesting,” Gordy comments. He shifts his attention back to you, drawing the lines of your face with his curious eyes. “Didn’t take you for the type, Y/N. Would’ve stuck around if I’d thought you could handle this life.”

His words dig into you, and you find yourself clenching your teeth.

“You told me you worked in banking.”

“Oh, I do.” He runs his fingers down the front of his designer suit, winking. “The mob is quite a lucrative business.” He pauses, and something a little like guilt flashes over his face. “You know my real name, yeah? Gordy, not Aidan. Sorry about that. I hate the lies, but they’re for protection, y’know.”

You feel almost dizzy as you bring your glass of champagne to your lips and throw it back. The bubbles do little to soothe down your discomfort.

“Wow,” you manage. Your eyes shift up to Tom, who’s looking at Gordy with apprehension in his gaze. You understand why: for the past two months, Tom’s been engaged in a brutal turf-war with Gordy’s family over in the South-East. Men have died, shipments stolen. You know one of Tom’s primary motivations for the meeting tonight was to see if he could reach some kind of agreement with them, but the circumstances were tense enough as it was, before this.

“Isn’t this fun,” Gordy comments. He’s eyeing up Tom now, a cocky smirk hanging from his plush lower lips. “Well, Thomas, it’d seem you and I have a lot more in common than we’d thought, eh? Maybe we’ll be able to come to an agreement.”

Your stomach turns, and you feel Tom tighten his grip on your arm. He clears his throat, and when he speaks, his tone is so severe that it knocks the air from your lungs.

“Don’t talk about Y/N like that,” he warns darkly. “We will not be making any deals tonight, Gordy.”

You raise your eyebrows, trying to meet his eyes but finding that Tom ignores your attempts and instead keeps staring straight ahead at your ex-boyfriend, a determined frown hanging from his thin lips.

“Why’s that, Thomas?” He quips.

“I don’t like your attitude, I don’t like your policies, and I don’t like the way you’re looking at my girlfriend.”

Gordy arches an eyebrow. His hand slips down slowly to rest on his hip, but not before his suit jacket has ridden up just enough to expose the sleek outline of his gun, hanging low in the holster on his belt.

“Is this how it’s going to be, Tom?” He asks, shifting his eyes back to you. “Eh? I bed your bird and suddenly business is off the table?”

You can feel the mood sour, and as much as you’d like to reach out and give Gordy a piece of your mind, you are painfully aware of the circumstances: you are standing in the lion’s den. Despite the meeting of Tom’s creation, you know that there’s no chance in hell that Gordy has walked into the evening alone. To initiate any sort of heated discussion whilst surrounded by London’s most notorious gangsters would be a disastrous move.

“Tom,” you murmur, recognising all too well the signs of anger that curl out across Tom’s face: his clenched jaw, the deep frown marks on his forehead, the tight line of his lips. “Let’s go.”

For a moment you think he’s going to follow you. Tom lets you shrug off his arm and take his hand, and his posture loosens as if he’s about to turn and walk across the room with you. But then, of course, Gordy just has to get in the last word.

“Oh, well, if you’re going, you won’t mind giving me a goodbye kiss, eh, Y/N?” He peers at you with mischievous eyes, his voice lilting lightly. “Just like old times?”

Tom’s moving before you can even attempt to stop him, and you hear a loud crack as his fist sweeps up and collides with Gordy’s nose. The man doubles over, groaning profusely, and your eyes widen as you take in the stream of blood that immediately begins to pour from his face.

“Tom!” You exclaim, your eyes wide and your hands shaking. Your boyfriend grabs at your fingers, squeezing your digits in his.

“He’s not allowed to disrespect you like that,” he mutters darkly.

“I don’t need you to defend me, I can do it myself,” you hiss back. Your heart pounds in your chest, but you feel the hot lump of anger melt away as Tom looks at you through those brown, golden eyes, his mouth positioned into a guilty smile.

Two men emerge from the crowd and flank Gordy’s side. You feel a deep swell of fear pool in the pit of your stomach, and instinctively your fingers move down towards your bag for the switch-blade you’d buried alongside your lipstick. But you find your actions stilling as Gordy clears his throat, rights himself and holds up a bloody hand.

“It’s fine,” Gordy tells his guards. He tilts his head in your direction. “I deserved it. No disrespect to the lady.” His beady green eyes move to Tom. “We can finish this discussion some other time, Thomas. Good evening to you both.”

Before waiting to see if Gordy turns around and walks away, you tighten your grip on Tom’s hand and lead him out of the large conference room. It’s completely silent, and the groups of people seem to part like the sea as you escort your boyfriend from the scene, his lips brushing over the back of his bruised hand as he winces. You don’t say anything, not until you’re safely stowed away in the backseat of a large car, the doors locked, windows tinted, and driver separated by partition.

“Love, look, I’m sorry, but I-”

You cut Tom off by climbing from your seat and meeting his mouth with a deep, needy kiss. Your boyfriend releases a noise of surprise, and his hands shift up to grab at your waist as he pulls you onto his lap eagerly, pressing back against your lips with fervour. It’s messy, and you enjoy running your hands through strands of his unruly hair as he keeps you close, his fingers grasping at every area of your front and sides, mapping you out.

“What did I do to deserve that?” Tom murmurs, his curious eyes meeting yours. “Thought I was in trouble.” His hands cup your cheeks, and you give him a coy smile.

“You shouldn’t have punched him,” you tell him, biting your lip as his thumb brushes over the soft skin of your face. “I’m glad that you did, though. He was a dick.”

Tom hums. “And also the enemy, love.”

Your eyebrows knit together, and you sit back on Tom’s wide thighs as you sigh. “I can’t believe he runs one of the other mobs,” you mutter. “I can’t believe I’ve dated two mobsters, and I didn’t even know.”

Tom’s smile doesn’t quite stretch to his eyes, but he still manages a short chuckle. “I hate the thought of you being with him,” he admits. His eyes stir with something darker, and his fingers dig into your waist. “I hate the thought of you being with anyone other than me.”

You bite your lower lip as you twirl the short strands at the nape of his neck around your fingers. “It was a long time ago,” you tell him. “Our relationship wasn’t anything of consequence.”

Your boyfriend chuckles, but he’s still got that hungry glint in his eyes. You feel a shiver roll down your spine as his gaze sweeps across your face, his hands shifting up to rest on the curves of your breasts. Your dress is thin, and the neckline meant you had to go without a bra. A soft gasp falls past your lips as Tom’s thumbs brush over the lines of your nipples, which prick in response to his touch.

“Is our relationship of consequence?” Tom asks, his voice dancing. He’s staring at your chest now, his smirk widening as you instinctively push further into his hands, enjoying the feeling of his large, warm palms groping at your breasts.

“Of course.” You swallow and bring your fingers away from his neck. With careful movements, you reach up and pull the straps of your dress from your shoulders, meeting Tom’s gaze as you roll down the front of the garment, exposing your bare chest to him. “I love you.”

Tom seeks out your neck with his lips, and you release a small gasp as he sucks firmly on the base of your throat, his fingers moving over your bare chest. You can feel his mouth pulling the blood to the surface of your skin, but the pain makes you cry out in pleasure as your fingers wrap around his suit jacket and fist at the expensive material hugging his back. He takes his time as he works his way up your neck, sucking and biting, and then soothing the throbbing marks with gentle laps of his tongue and soft, open-mouthed kisses. By the time he reaches your ear, you’re squirming in his lap.

“You are mine.”

His tongue teases the lobe of your ear as his hands move all across your bare back, caressing your skin gently with his palms. The cold metal of his silver rings bites to touch, but you shiver in enjoyment.

“Yours,” you agree. Tom shifts from your neck to look at you straight on, his eyes full of dark, heady lust.

“Mine,” he repeats. His mouth is on yours, and you let him prise apart your lips with his tongue. His hands fist at your hair and he pulls you closer roughly, and your teeth collide as he kisses you sloppily, groaning into your mouth. It’s messy - with noses bashing and his digits tugging at your strands and your lips moving everywhere, slick with spit - but you feel him gather you up in his arms as he holds you. He owns you.

You make-out until the car arrives home, at which point your lips are tender and puffy and your entire body throbs with persistent arousal. Tom’s eager with his affection, but you can feel the underlying pulse of fear coasting through his veins; you want so desperately to placate it: to let him know that he has nothing to worry about - that you are his now, and probably always will be. Tom’s not alone in his discomfort - you, too, feel jilted and unbalanced after running into a ghost from your past. You need Tom desperately, in more ways that one. You need him to look after you - to hold you, be firm with you, and show you your place within your relationship. You need him to be your dom, and you crave the release of submitting to him entirely - with your mind, body and heart.

“You can do anything you want to me tonight,” you tell him. You’re standing at the foot of the bed, Tom sitting up against the headboard. His suit jacket lays off to the side, tie hanging loose around his neck and his top two buttons undone. You’ve made a mess of his hair, but he looks so fucking pretty with his chestnut curls all tousled and his lips bright pink and inflamed.

“That’s funny,” Tom comments, eyes glinting as he tilts his head to the side, “I thought I could already do that.”

His words send a shiver down your spine, and you find yourself biting your lower lip as your face fills up with heat.

“Do you want me to take off my dress?” Your fingers toy with the straps, which are all rolled up and uneven thanks to the hastiness in which you’d scrambled from the car.

“No.” Tom sits up, and he pats his thigh invitingly. “Take off your panties and come up here.”

You tease him a little bit, enjoying the way his gaze weighs down your figure. You’re slow to push your dress up to your waist, and you make a show of hooking your index fingers beneath the band to reveal lacy panties. You tug at the material until it falls to pool at your feet, and then you delicately step away from them and approach your boyfriend. You have a sudden thought that it’s as if you are the prey, walking straight into danger, but you welcome it: Tom’s looking at you, his expression hard but excited and his eyes swimming with darkness, and it makes your throat dry up.

“Such a gorgeous girl, aren’t you?”

The material of Tom’s slacks feels coarse against your centre as you straddle his left thigh. His hands press at your waist, pushing your cunt straight against his leg, and the contact makes you moan softly.

“You look so pretty with your neck all marked up.” Tom presses a light kiss to one of your hickeys, and you gasp as a line of pain ripples out across your skin. “You look like you’re mine.”

“I am.”

“I know.” Tom strokes his hand through your hair, eyes watching you carefully. “I’m just going to remind you.”

“And how exactly do you plan on doing that?” You ask, your voice wavering.

He hums, the noise suspended with confidence. “You’ll see.” His hands dig into your waist a little firmer, and he starts to guide your movements. “Work yourself against my thigh, darling. Make a nice wet spot for me.”

His words make you moan, and you’re quick to comply. You recognise the dark glint in his eyes and the layers to his voice - he’s slipping away into his harder, more dominative side, just as you find yourself eager to oblige him. You grind yourself down over his thigh, and his trousers are rough against your flushed centre. The friction burns beautifully. A few moans slip past your lips, and your eyes squeeze shut as his hands press over you, digging into your waist, guiding you. Tom is very much in control, and as the seconds slip past, you give into it.

“Tell me how it feels,” he murmurs, rich voice drifting into your ears. You bite your lip, your hole clenching around nothing as you swivel your hips and feel the pressure to your hot bud.

“Feels really good,” you admit, voice a whimper. “Love it when you let me touch you.”

Tom takes your chin between two fingers, looking at you with a hard stare. He pulls your face to him, his tongue licking a wide stripe over your lips. As you try to push forward for a kiss, he just moves away, a teasing smirk on his lips. “No,” he says softly, “You’ll take what I give you, and you won’t be greedy about it. I don’t want to have to punish you, babygirl.”

You nod quickly, the movement hurried and messy. It’s getting hard to think of anything other than the fact you’ve made his trousers slick with your arousal. The burn between your legs is gradually swelling to a crescendo.

“Sorry,” you whisper. Your fingers find purchase on his shoulder, and you find your forehead dropping down to rest there too as your breathing hitches.

“Are you close, darling?” He’s very soft and gentle, and it makes you whimper out a small noise of agreement. Tom chuckles, pulling at your hair as he brings your face back up, his hands bearing down on your hips to halt your movements. “Lie down for me, please.”

You scramble from his lap, your centre pulsing as it leaves his thigh. Your eyes catch on the way you’ve left a large, wet mark on his trousers, and you watch with wide eyes as Tom stands from the bed. He walks around to the foot of the mattress, his figure commanding your complete attention.

“I’ve been thinking about what I’d like to do to you,” he says, speaking quietly. His nimble fingers work down the buttons of his shirt, popping them quickly. Once his shirt is discarded, Tom works on his slacks. As the metallic sounds of his belt clicking fill the air, he smirks at you. “Are you going to be good for me?”

“Yes,” you say immediately. You squeal as Tom grabs at your ankles and pulls you to the edge of the bed. He kneels on the floor, hauling you closer until your thighs are over his shoulders and his face is near your heat. Your dress scrunches up at your waist, and you whimper as his hands press your legs apart. “I’ll always be good for you.”

“Is that right?” Tom asks, index finger running lightly over the inside of one of your thighs. He looks up at you, eyes hooded and blown wide with lust.

“Yes.”

“Prove it to me,” he instructs. “If you think you’re about to cum, you need to tell me.” Tom’s gaze darkens. “If you disobey me, you won’t enjoy what happens.” With tender lips, he presses a kiss to your inner thigh, looking at you with a gentle smile. When he speaks again, his voice is lighter, “Is this okay, darling?”

You nod.

“Words.”

As two of Tom’s fingers spread your puffy outer lips, you stammer out a broken, “Yes, I understand.”

“Good girl.”

He dives in quickly, and the press of his warm tongue against your pulsing pussy makes you cry out. You’re already feeling hot and bothered from the time you spent rutting against the coarse material of his trousers, and the pressure soothes you. He’s too far away to touch, so you curl your hands into fists and pull at the silky bed linen, eyelids fluttering shut as his tongue caresses you, over and over.

Tom makes out sloppily with your cunt, two of his slender fingers pulling up to push into your heat. He fills you easily, taking the edge off your desire as his tongue flicks over your clit, unrelenting, hard. He’s eager for it, holding nothing back as he coaxes you quickly towards a high, moaning and grunting into your centre. The vibrations drive you mad, and your mind spins off as he holds you in place.

“S-Shit,” you stammer, back arching. As much as you don’t want to say it, Tom’s already pushing you towards climax. As he curls his slender digits up against you, his tips brush against your g-spot, and it has you seeing stars. “I’m gonna cum, Tom.”

All movements stop. Tom’s mouth pulls back from your cunt, and his fingers still inside you. Your walls clench around him, but he relaxes them, halting all stimulation of your sensitive pussy as you whimper.

“Good,” he coos. Your eyes seek him out, and you moan as you see his chin slick with your juices. “You taste divine, sweetheart.” His free hand strokes over your inner thigh, calming you with gentle circles and caresses. “We’ll do this a few more times, I think. I want you dripping onto the sheets. I want you to forget about everything apart from me, and how desperate you are for me.” His teeth nip at your thigh, and you squirm.

True to his word, Tom works you up, over and over again. Each time he brings you to the edge of a high, he pulls back at the last moment, leaving you teetering on the edge for a painful second before your climax goes ebbing away from your reach. The time it takes to build up to each edge narrows considerably with each completion, and you find yourself growing desperate for more. Your skin is hot and prickles, your forehead breaking into a sweat. The muscles in your legs ache from the exertion of almost spasming into climax, time and time again, and your throat hurts from your eager, desperate moans. He’s a demon, his deep brown eyes watching you closely, sharp ears picking up each noise and sound, and he seems intent on drawing this out for as long as possible.

“I think that’s enough,” Tom finally says. Your sigh of relief is so loud and pronounced that it makes him chuckle. “What, you didn’t like that?” His hand comes down over your inner thigh, slapping softly. As the pain ripples across your skin, you whimper. “Don’t lie to me, angel. I know you love it when I’ve got my head between your legs.” His large hands slip under your thighs, and he pushes you up the bed, slipping up over you. With his body suspended above you and a hand either side of your head, Tom raises his eyebrows. “Open,” he instructs.

What he does next makes your eyes roll back. You open your mouth immediately, and he chuckles darkly. One hand holds your jaw, and you watch as Tom purses his lips, eyes you intently, and then spits directly into your mouth. The taste of your cunt spreads out across your tongue, and your hole clenches around nothing as you moan loudly.

“Swallow,” he says. You close your mouth and do just that, and then you stick out your tongue for him to see. “Good,” he coos. Tom kisses you suddenly, the action hard as he sucks on your tongue. When he pulls back, he kisses your nose. “Pretty girl, aren’t you? My pretty girl.”

His lips skate all across your face, dusting you in warm kisses of reward.

“I love you,” you whisper, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. The gratitude you feel towards him for knowing exactly what you need is boundless, consuming.

“And I love you.” You share a tender moment of understanding as Tom brushes his hand over your face, and in the look you exchange, you know that he feels as you do: appreciation towards your partner, for reading you and obliging you. He hums softly, slipping away from you after a final kiss to pull off his boxers. “Take off your dress for me, love. Give me a show.”

You’re shaky on your feet, but you manage to stand in front of the bed. Tom sits up against the headboard, working his hand over his erect length as he watches you. You tease him, just like you know he enjoys, taking your time as you roll the sleeves down and unzip the back. The material goes tumbling to the floor, pooling at your feet, and then you’re entirely naked - wearing only his hickeys, and his spit between your legs.

“Beautiful,” he says, eyes glinting. “You’re an angel, aren’t you?” When you shrug bashfully, he nods. “My angel. C’mere.” You move to him, but he stops you before you can reach for his cock. “I want you to lie down here and show me how you get off.”

“But I want--”

He shuts you up with a hard stare. “Do you really want to finish that sentence?” When you’re quiet, he hums. You can’t stop staring at the way his hands slide over his length. Your mouth waters at the thought of letting your tongue wander over his leaking tip, collecting the beads of salty precum. “Do this for me, and then I’ll let you have what you want.”

You part your legs, your thighs aching. As you dip your hand between your legs, you whimper to feel your slick mixed with Tom’s spit. Your skin is soaked, and as you nimbly press two fingers into your hole, you find it looser, already stretched from Tom’s exploration earlier. You can feel his eyes on you, watching your hand move as you slowly fuck yourself with your fingers, getting pleasure from the knuckle of your thumb as it brushes up against your clit.

As you begin to whimper, Tom swoops in with his final lesson of the evening. He reaches down, wrapping his hand around yours, guiding your movements. He sets the pace and the angle, speeding up your thrusts. The sound of your wetness sloshing around makes you cry out loudly as he edges you perfectly, like he knows your body better than you.

“You see this,” he mutters, voice husky. “I give you pleasure. It doesn’t matter if it’s my tongue in your cunt, or my fingers, or my cock. This cunt?” He curls your fingers, and they brush up against your g-spot, making you cry out. “This cunt is mine. You are mine.”

You almost lose it right there, the deep husky tones of his dominant voice sending you spinning, but then Tom pulls away. As your walls flutter weakly around nothing, he pats at your hip.

“Hands and knees, darling.”

Your arms shake as you roll over, adopting the position. Again, Tom stands at the foot of the bed, pulling you back until you’re spread open for him. You feel his cock, dragging through your slick folds, teasing your tender clit until your hips jerk forwards. Your bud aches almost painfully, your body pulled tight with an overwhelming need to climax.

“Please,” you beg desperately, dropping your head between your arms. “Please, please.”

Tom’s hand smooths over the curve of your ass, silver ring biting coolly against you, “Does my darling want to feel my cock?”

“Yes, please.”

“Hmm.” Easily, he slips the tip of his cock past your entrance. “I suppose you deserve it,” he teases. “Been such a good little slut for me, haven’t you?”

When Tom finally fucks into you, the moan you release is almost pornographic. He’s been teasing you, over and over, drawing you close to orgasm only to jerk it away from you each time, but now that he’s got his length buried up to the hilt inside you, you know it’s been worth it. Nothing compares to the relief you feel as you realise you’ll be allowed to finish soon, your walls squeezing his cock.

The pace is punishing, and everything blurs together. His hands on your hips, holding you in place, pulling you back rhythmically to meet with his thrusts. As his slick cock pounds into you over and over, his flushed tip nudges against your g-spot. The stimulation makes your eyes tear up, and a few hot tears skate across your cheeks as you whimper and cling to the sheets.

“Fuck, princess, you’re fucking perfect for me, aren’t you?” A hand falls over your bum, and you moan. “So tight and warm. Feels so snug around me, lovie. So perfect.” Tom’s voice comes out firm, but it wavers, and you can imagine the grimace of pleasure on his face. “Always take me so well.” His hand moves to the top of your back, and he pushes you into the bed. Your face buries into the sheets as the angle adjusts, and you gasp loudly as the adjustment means he can rail you harder.

“S-Shit,” you moan. “Love your cock, Tommy. Pl-Please.”

“What do you need?”

You whimper, the power of his thrusts fucking you further into the mattress. “W’nna cum.”

“You can play with your clit then.”

Tears fly down your cheeks, and it feels overwhelming as you nudge a hand between your legs to fondle your bud. Tom’s hands hold your hips, keeping you nice and open for him, and you’re glad for the heavy pressure on your skin. It keeps you anchored down.

“Are you close?” He asks, grunting heavily as he feels your walls squeeze him.

“Yes.”

“I think you deserve to cum, don’t you?” He pauses briefly, cursing lowly, pace faltering. “Let go, darling. Let me feel you squeezing me. I want to feel what I do to you.”

The action of his deep, fast thrusts mixes with your fingers on your clit, and you cum with a loud, quivering scream. Tom holds you down, fucking into you as you spasm and writhe in the sheets, and after a few, mind-numbing moments of pleasure, you feel him follow you with a grunt. His hot speed paints your walls, his noises of heady enjoyment mixing with yours, and it just prolongs your climax.

When you calm down, Tom carefully pulls out from you. You whimper at the loss, feeling a little out of it as he turns you over, pushes you up into the centre of the bed and pulls you on top of him. Your head settles in the crook of his neck, his hands palming over your back as he kisses the top of your head, over and over again.

“So good for me,” he mumbles. Your legs tangle together. You can feel his cum spilling from your hole, dripping down onto him, but he doesn’t seem to care. “My best girl. I love you so much.”

You hum quietly, rubbing your hand over the top of his arm as you whimper. “Love you too,” you manage, voice hoarse.

Tom’s hands cup your face, and he gently coaxes you up until he can meet with your eyes. His fingers brush away the teary residue from your cheeks, and he kisses you softly.

“Mine,” he mumbles against you, smiling into your lips as you hum in agreement. One of your hands folds into his curls, and you feel your heart stirring contentedly in your chest.

“Yours.”

---------

lol. hope you enjoyyyyed :)

I’m intending to do some mob!Tom blurbs next week for mob!Monday, so if you have any concepts you’d like to see, please send them to my ask box!

ask box is open for your thoughts!! I’m dying to know what you think of this... 👀

masterlist linked in bio!

#tom holland punch my lights out challenge ❤️#tom holland #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #mob!tom #mob!tom holland #mob!tomfic #mm #smut #y/n #y/n use #self insert #self-insert #yeeeeeep #queue

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leviaju · 4 years

Text

forgiveness

pairing: belphegor x GN! reader, hints of everyone x reader

words: 8.1k+

genre: angst, fluff at the beginning and a bit at the end if u squint

warnings: mentions of mc and lilith’s death, foul language

preview: “I’m sorry,” He begins, voice much weaker than anticipated. “I know that will never cut it, and it will never be enough, but I’m sorry.”

“You’re right, Belphegor. It won’t cut it.”

hey guys what up. so... i’ve done a lot of thinking about belphegor’s dynamic with MC, and, like many others, was really bothered by the sudden switch after... he killed them. u know. typical stuff. i wanted to fill in the gaps!!! if im being completely honest, this has sat in my wips for.... like half a year. it’s my first time writing for obey me, so i hope that everyone’s not too terribly ooc LOL

anyways yeah. i mention how belphegor killed mc a couple of times, so proceed with caution! hopefully, if i get any ideas, the next stuff i write will be a lot lighter. hope you enjoy! (also requests r open soooooooo)

The weight on your chest crushed your rib cage, threatening to snap your bones like they were nothing more than twigs. All you could see was the pitch black of eternal night, and whether your eyes were opened or closed you couldn’t tell. What commanded your attention was the searing pain in your lungs, growing exponentially every half-second, and the unrelenting grip that was slowly shattering your esophagus. No matter how hard you struggled, squirmed and fought against the weight holding your body down, there was no use. It was pointless. The pain spread from the raging fire in your lungs to the tips of your fingertips, and everywhere felt as if you had been set aflame. Slowly, a light illuminated the force keeping you down.

You couldn’t make out much, save for the cackle that rang insufferably through your ears, and the intense eyes that were staring you down.

They held no remorse.

Bones ache as you rest against your bed, finally allowing the tension in your muscles to melt away. You’d never mistake this feeling for regret of a busy day, having spent so much time with the people you care about, but it certainly took its toll on you.

It began with Satan, who’d asked you the night before to accompany him on an early morning walk. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence — he’d invite you to join his morning routine on every day off, and you’d never refuse — hence, at the wonderful time of 7:00am, you were venturing around the Devildom, hand in hand with the Avatar of Wrath. The two of you would walk, occasionally resting on a park bench for longer than either of you would like to admit, for about an hour and a half before you took an official break. The time was filled with pleasant chatter and comfortable silence. Every so often he’d squeeze your hand, and when you’d look over, the fondest of smiles crossed his face. It was a reminder of how glad he was that you joined him.

At around 8:30, he took you into a café for breakfast, and two of you spent only about thirty minutes there chattering away happily. For the most part, he was vividly and excitedly discussing a book he’d just finished the night before…

Until you were interrupted.

“Hello, lovely!” Asmodeus wrapped his arms around you from behind, just before pressing a kiss on your cheek. Satan sighed, resting his head in his hand as he watched the interaction.

“My selfish older brother’s been hogging you all morning, I couldn’t help but want to whisk you away!”

Despite the glare Satan was sending his way, Asmodeus took a seat next to you, happily engaging in conversation as he completely ignored his brother. He told you that the mall was opening in about an hour, and Asmo desperately wished to get his perfectly-manicured hands on a new makeup product being revealed that day.

“But of course I can’t go alone! How positively dreary that would be.” His fingers twined with yours as he looked at you hopefully, and you ran your thumb across his hand. A sheepish smile crept its way onto your lips, and you looked over at Satan. He simply nodded, flicking his hand as a gesture for you two to leave, and Asmodeus didn’t hesitate. He was quick to stand and pull you with them, holding tight to you as he whisked you away. You called out to Satan, now alone at the table with a reluctant smile on his face as he waved goodbye.

“Thanks for breakfast! Get home safe!”

You almost missed the chuckle that left his lips, the café door closing behind you.

Asmodeus kept you until noon. He got a hold of the lipstick he wanted almost right away, but insisted on buying an outfit to match the colour. Regardless of what you’d initially thought, the outfit wasn’t for him.

“Oh, we’ll look positively stunning together!” He exclaimed after about two hours of forcing you in and out of changing rooms, putting his hands all over you to “adjust the clothing” as he deemed necessary. Near the end, you could feel soreness deep in your muscles creeping in from such an active morning, but Asmodeus’ cheery face and constant flirtations helped you forget about it almost completely.

It wasn’t until you got home that you truly felt the effects of on-and-off walking since early in the morning. Be that as it may, your stomach was growling, loudly reminding you that it was now past lunch. As much as you wished to give up on food for the time being and instead head to your room to collapse, the pain in your belly was enough to urge you to cease any arguments, instead ready to try and ignore the ache in your bones in order to quell the angry rumbling of your stomach.

Unfortunately, when you finally made it to the kitchen, there was no food prepared. Instead, what you found was a dejected Beelzebub, frowning softly as he once again was at the receiving end of a lecture from the eldest of his brothers. As quiet as possible, you snuck into the kitchen, trying to listen in on their conversation.

There was silence, followed by a sigh.

“It’s easier to simply ask what’s going on as opposed to trying to eavesdrop, MC.”

You jumped, then bashfully made your way into the kitchen, a sheepish grin on your face. Lucifer was rubbing his temple.

“Beelzebub was supposed to be on lunch duty, but ended up ‘taste-testing’ to the extent that he ate it all. Again.” Lucifer sighed. The typically perfect eldest brother was being run ragged, if the bags forming under his eyes told you anything. “So, instead of working on the papers I have to get finished for tonight, I’m stuck making lunch while he cleans up.”

Beelzebub’s frown tugged at your heartstrings, and in spite of the exhaustion clawing relentlessly at your bones, you relented.

“Why don’t I help? Four hands are better than two,” you proposed, and a small smile graced Lucifer’s face. He lifted his hand to brush the disheveled black hair out of his face, and your chest ached just a bit at the sight. You made a mental note to drag him to bed for a nap the next time you saw him like this.

“That would be more than welcome. Please, if you may.” Already you turned to start working, but Lucifer’s voice made you pause.

“But no feeding Beel. He’s eaten more than his fill already, he can wait until we’re all done.”

Needless to say, every so often you’d slip Beelzebub a piece of chopped vegetable or cooked meat, and he’d very happily (but quietly!) munch away, his expression radiating warmth and joy. And Lucifer, who seemed to almost be omniscient at times, never once mentioned it. Once the three of you were done cooking, Lucifer placed his hand on your head, patting you gently.

“Good work, MC. I must leave now, but I trust that the two of you will be able to clean everything up. Your help was much appreciated. You will be paid back in kind for all of your hard work.”

If nothing else, the slight blush on Lucifer’s face as he ever-so-gently pressed his lips to the crown of your head was more than enough payment.

“Thank you.” Beelzebub cleared his throat, washing the dishes as you dried them. “I… Thanks for helping. And feeding me.”

His smile warmed your heart, and you nodded, bumping your arm with his gently. The small bit of pink that dusted his cheeks compelled you to coddle him, but you resisted the urge. Barely.

“Anytime, big guy.”

After you ate lunch, the only thought in your mind was the prospect of curling up under your covers and passing out. The fretful, broken sleep the night before wasn’t helping at all in keeping you awake, and that on top of the rest of the day’s events had you yearning for the feeling of your pillows.

Unfortunately, you hadn’t even made it through the door when your phone began to blow up, one notification after the other in quick succession.

GGKKJFLFJG

CMOE QUIC K

PLS

SUPE R RARE EVENT IN MONONONOKE

PELASE

YOU HVE TO BE PARTNERED WIHT SOMEONE TO GTE THE PRIZE

PL E A S E

HURRYHURRYHURRYHURRYHURRYHHHUUURRRRRYYYYYYYYYYY

You found yourself in Leviathan’s room, sat in his lap as he explained the event to you. Your half-asleep brain did its best to keep up with his quick speech, but that, along with the warmth of his chest against your back, became the most soothing lullaby.

“Hey! Normie! I agreed to let you sit here so I could easily help you through the event, but if you’re going to fall asleep on me, I’m pushing you off—“

“I’m awake! I’m awake.

...Now, what was I supposed to do?”

The unintentional giggle that escaped your lips at his expression caused Leviathan to huff, exasperated, despite the flush of his face. Diligently, however, he thoroughly explained the event, for the second time, and the method to obtain the rare prize: a level 2000 I’m Going To Murder You So Hard That You’ll Come Back To Life Just To Die Again Death Sycthe, the strongest weapon ever released in the game. It was a partner event, which explained Leviathan’s desperate and urgent request for aid. You didn’t mind though. While yes, you’d probably never be able to get to his level of gamer, you were more than happy to go along for the ride. It made him happy!

Leviathan rested his chin against your shoulder as he played on his phone, focused to such a degree that the usually easy-to-fluster demon was completely unphased by your proximity. Your phone, set to AutoFight, rested untouched near Leviathan’s leg, abandoned on the floor. You watched him expertly take out enemies that would have one-hit KO’d you through heavy eyelids, and every time he beat a wave of enemies, his attention would momentarily avert from the screen, looking at you from the corner of his eye expectantly. A kiss on his cheek was more than enough to motivate him to continue on, albeit with a pink glow on his cheeks until his attention was once again completely wrapped up in the game at his fingertips.

“Levi! I said open up, goddamnit!”

The pounding against the door was enough to distract Leviathan from his game, subsequently killing his character in the process. He groaned, cursing the demon who interrupted the two of you as he gently lifted you off of his lap, before getting up to open the door.

“The hell do you want?!”

To be completely honest, you were so wrapped up in watching Leviathan play his games that you had forgotten about your weekly movie night with Mammon, who had come over to his younger brother’s room to drag your ungrateful ass back to your own. Leviathan had cleared the event in Mononoke Land hours ago, but not wanting you to leave just yet, invited you to keep watching him play. Setting aside how tired you were, how could you say no? You’d wanted to spend time with him, too.

Unfortunately, you lost track of time, and your phone, battery completely drained from the event, rested uselessly in your pocket. A consequence of this happened to be missing the countless messages and calls Mammon had sent your way, before he began his hunt for you throughout the house. The last place he checked was, of course, Leviathan’s room.

“Come on, human, I ain’t got all day. No one keeps the Great Mammon waiting!”

“Except for MC,” you heard Leviathan mumble under his breath, and a laugh escaped you before you had the chance to slap a hand over your mouth. Mammon flushed deeply, before striding into his brother’s room.

“Hey, wait, you moron! I never said—!”

The force of Mammon throwing you over your shoulder wasn’t enough to hurt, but it certainly was enough to leave you breathless for a moment. “Let’s go, fragile human. I picked the perfect movie already.” Mammon’s words came out in a bashful mumble, but he had enough courage to lift his head and smirk at Leviathan as he carried you out of the room. All you could do was smile apologetically at the blue haired demon before Mammon turned, bringing you out of sight.

Mammon was all complaints as he carried you to your bedroom, but you knew it came from a place of love. Even though he’d never admit it, you could tell he was hurt by you unintentionally ignoring him. Because of this, instead of demanding he let you down, you allowed him to hold you like this, not a single complaint leaving your lips.

When he brought you to your room, you were set on the bed you’d missed dearly and he went to put the movie in the player.

“Hey! No sleepin’ on me, alright? I wanna watch the movie with ya, and I can’t if you’re passed out, now can I?”

And so here you are now, bed frame creaking as Mammon climbs onto the mattress. Rubbing your eyes, you nod, and lean into him once he gets close enough for you to.

“Seriously, I’m gonna hafta have a serious talk with Levi,” Mammon grumbles, slipping his arm around your waist and pulling you in so that you’re almost in his lap. He pulls the blankets over the two of you as you rest your head on his chest, and hum quietly in return. “He used up all your energy, and now we won’t be able to get to enjoy the movie as much! Honestly…”

The vibrations of Mammon’s words can be felt through his chest, and you simply cuddle into him more and try to train your bleary eyes on the television screen. The Avatar of Greed shuts up completely when you take his hand in yours and press a gentle kiss to it, before doing your best to focus on the movie. As time passes, however, the idea of giving into your whims grows more than tempting, and oh-so-easy for you to do.

“Hey! Yo, MC! Seriously… You’re hopeless.”

A chiding, yet gentle voice draws you from the confines of rest. You puff air from your nose in response, cuddling closer to whatever it was that had been so comfortable in the first place.

“MC… Come on. Ya gotta wake up, ya didn’t even watch any of the movie! It was really good, y’know.”

Mammon’s hand rubs circles on your back as you mumble incoherently, a noise to acknowledge the fact that he‘s been talking, and that you are indeed awake now.

It takes a good amount of time, as well as some gentle encouragement from Mammon, to get you to finally open your heavy eyes, and even longer for you to be able to apologize to him for missing out on the movie he was so excited to watch. He pouts a bit, but the blush on the highs of his cheeks lets you know that he didn’t mind all that much. You smile and yawn, and his chuckle resonates in your ears.

“I gotta go now, otherwise Lucifer’s gonna kill me for staying so late. Sorry I woke ya up, but ya look so tired now that you’ll probably fall back asleep right away.”

And so, after a quick goodbye and a kiss on the cheek (which made Mammon turn the prettiest shade of red), you close your door and… sigh. If you had been able to stay asleep, the fact that you aren’t in pajamas and haven't brushed your teeth wouldn't be that much of an issue. Now that you‘re slightly more conscious, however, it’s hard to convince yourself to simply climb back into bed. Your breath is bugging you a bit, and the jeans you’re wearing certainly aren’t at all as comfortable as your pajama pants. For that reason, to your own dismay, you begin getting ready for bed — properly this time.

A small “finally…” tumbles from your lips after you finish your nighttime routine. Lacking any form of grace, you plop into bed once more and pull the blankets to your chin, nuzzling into the pillow. Your bed still smells like Mammon’s cologne, and you hum softly to yourself before closing your eyes and waiting for sleep to take over once more, and hold you hostage until late in the morning.

Alas, sleep seemed to be evading you now, similar to how you had ignored it during the day. The mattress you lay on simply isn't comfortable anymore, and the blankets that hug your body cause you to overheat. Unfortunately, if even one limb is out of the blanket, you get so cold you start shivering. None of your typical sleeping positions are anywhere near as effective as they typically are, and you’re left to wrestle with sleep alone, hoping to beat it into submission so you can finally get some proper rest.

After about 45 minutes of tossing and turning with no results, you finally relent. The nap you’d taken while watching the movie royally fucked you over, and you groan. Eventually you decide to give up on trying to fall back asleep, and huff as you sit properly on your bed.

Blanket dragging behind you as it drapes from your shoulders, you slowly make your way through the silent hallways of the House of Lamentation. The only sounds floating through the walls were the light buzz of electricity running through the wiring of the house, and your own footsteps as you began walking up one of the many staircases in the large building.

You aren’t sure how long you’ve been walking, the passage of time different at night to a hazy mind, but eventually you arrive at your favourite area in the house, second only to your lush bedroom. There are no artificial lights, only the gentle cast of the night sky providing the ideas of shape in the planetarium. You’ve never seen stars so vibrant and bright, and there are so many more in the Devildom than anywhere you could go back home. Even though the only light comes from the stars, it’s enough to create soft, fuzzy edges around everything in the room; this includes the bundle of various blankets mussed in the centre of the floor. Slowly, cautiously, you make your way towards the pile.

Since you’d arrived in the Devildom, the planetarium at the top of the House of Lamentation became your safe haven. Your room, without a lock on the door, was way too easy for intruding demons to enter without permission, and on nights when everything became too much for you to handle, you’d head up to the planetarium to clear your mind. There’s just something so calming about a starry sky on a clear night that releases you of your fears and anxiety, and helps you get a grip on the situation around you.

After freeing a certain someone from their attic-based captivity, however, you learned that the planetarium was a place favored not only by you. Since he’d been freed, you’d been kind, but there were still fears plaguing your mind, reminding you of everything that has transpired between the two of you. It’s something that you can’t escape, following you even - especially - in your sleep, when you wished you’d be the most at peace. It makes sense, considering the sin he embodies, but you wish it wasn’t like that nonetheless.

Once you’d learned that this was one of his favourite rooms in the house, especially on nights when he can’t fall asleep, you found yourself avoiding this area. It’s not that you hate him; it’s the opposite, really. Nevertheless, you can’t help but feel the tightening of his fingers around your neck, and the burning sensation in your lungs that’s screaming for oxygen, and the desperation to alleviate the seer of deprivation.

Still, you trek on. Closer and closer to the pile of blankets, your gut cries to you to run away. You ignore it. The nearer you get to the nest of blankets, the faster your heart beats, the more lightheaded you feel. But you continue.

Eventually you get close enough to make out the shape of a familiar pillow, the cow print on the case worn and well-loved. From the moment you walked in the room, you knew he was here. All the same, you walk on, and the only sounds in the room are the gentle taps of your clothed feet against the tile, and the quiet noises of your quickened breaths.

You’ve avoided being alone with him since… Since you… Since the event. Your heart screamed at you to forgive him, to love him just as much as you love his brothers. That said, there’s nothing in you that can stop your stomach from churning whenever he gets too close.

Butterflies beat aggressively within your heart and stomach, and it’s years before you get within his range of sight, but you sit down on the floor, holding the blanket tight to your body.

There’s one beat,

two beats,

three beats of silence before you can hear him sucking in a breath through his teeth. In your peripheral you can see his lips parting, closing, parting again as he tries to find the words. He heard you walk in, and was pleasantly surprised when you didn’t immediately bolt in the opposite direction. However, this proximity leaves him with an entirely new predicament. He wants to talk to you, he wants to laugh and joke with you the way his brothers do, but one look at your face and he notices the dark bags under your eyes, and the frown that tugs at your lips as you stare up at the stars. He can hear your heart racing, and feel his own in the tips of his fingers. He opens his mouth again, but the crack in his voice betrays his usual collected personality.

“I’ll go,” Belphegor begins, begrudgingly starting to gather his blankets. His body freezes when his eyes pass over your figure and you’re looking right at him, through him, and he swears he can feel the blood in his veins stop pumping. Your expression is unreadable, almost scary, and he’s never in his life been in fear of a human until this moment.

The seconds pass as years do, both of your bodies chilled to the bone but neither of you able to look away. In the end, the one who casts their gaze somewhere else is you, and he exhales loudly.

“Don’t.”

Your reply is simple, but he’s stuck in place. Slowly, he nods, sitting down again the way he had been prior, and pulling his beloved pillow close to his chest. He can’t breathe, the tension suffocating. It doesn’t help that now you refuse to look at him.

“... If you want,” he replies dumbly, staring at the floor. He feels trapped in place, afraid to move and scare you off. Despite every nerve in his body screaming at him to leave you be, he stays. You told him to, after all. Slowly, you sit down, his blankets creating a low wall between the two of you.

It’s only now that he gets a good look at you. You're tired, he knows, watching as your eyelids droop and your lazy movements when you get more comfortable under your blanket, but there’s more to it than just that. You seem so fragile, like sugar glass, breaking with even the slightest amount of pressure. He feels he can reach over and shatter you with the gentlest of touches, and that thought alone roots him in place. Since you came back, he’s never seen you without a smile. Your genuine smile was the prettiest, he decided rather early on, one that lights up your face and brightens those around you. Belphegor really, truly loves your smile.

He knows there was a point in time, not long ago, where he could have made it so no one saw it ever again. He can’t help but be grateful he didn’t succeed when he sees you smiling at his brothers.

That’s never the smile you show him though. It’s not for lack of effort; you certainly try, and he loves you for that. But the smile you show him is always plastered on, and he knows you’re doing it for his sake. With Belphegor, your smile never reaches your eyes. Be that as it may, you’re never weak around him. Fake smiles prove exactly how strong you really are, but your heart races every time he enters the room. As much as he wishes your palpitations are out of excitement, he knows better than to give himself false hope.

That’s why he’s so taken aback when he looks you over and you seem so vulnerable. Never, not in a million years, would he ever let himself believe that you’d allow yourself to look weak in front of him, not after what he did. Even so, here you are, shaking, knees drawn into your chest, and his heart soars because you’re showing him a new side to yourself. It aches at the knowledge that you’re feeling so vulnerable because of him.

His eyes burn holes in the side of your head. You know he’s watching you, studying you, but you can’t bring yourself to meet his gaze. Not when the hands he uses to pull the blankets over his body are the exact same ones that led you to your untimely and violent demise, and not when every time you look at his face, you can also see Mammon’s above you, sobbing as he tries to will you not to fade away into nothingness.

There’s no putting it nicely. You were murdered, and Belphegor was the one who killed you. As much as he tries to pretend it never happened, to act around you the same as his older brothers do, you would never forget. Neither would he, regardless of the effort he puts into pushing the memory out of his mind. His chosen way of coping was to laugh with you, to get close and have you forgive him without acknowledging the situation. It was too painful to talk about, after all. He willingly, happily snuffed out the life of someone his brothers love, and someone he’d find himself loving too. You became someone who changed him, helped him grow and be better. It was easier, simpler to act as if you’d met him the same way you’d met any of his brothers.

Belphegor killed one of the last remaining parts of his past, a part that, while once warm and light, mutated and infected him, causing his anger to grow out of control, like a weed that suffocates any flower that tries to flourish. He killed a descendant of his sister, and the fact that you’re here now is more of a second chance than he thinks he could ever deserve in all his millenia of living.

And yet, here you are. Scared and shaking, but here. The silence has stretched on for longer than he’d like; he wants to be able to love you, openly and happily, but knows it won’t happen. It can’t, unless he does what he thought was the very last thing he’d do.

“I’m sorry,” Belphegor begins, voice much weaker than anticipated. He can hear your heartbeat pick up, and he curses himself mentally. Your lip between your teeth, you remain silent. His nerves force him to speak more.

“I know that will never cut, and it will never be enough, but I’m sorry.”

There’s more silence. He feels like he can’t breathe, the tense atmosphere forcing its way around his throat and tightening its grip. He doesn’t know how long it takes you to even contemplate replying, let alone allow yourself to respond. Belphegor’s ears ring almost deafeningly loud. He can’t take it.

“You’re right.”

His eyes, which he trained to the ground, dart up to your profile once more. You pause, wetting your lips.

“You’re right, Belphegor. It won’t cut it.”

There’s not enough time to process your words before he really, really looks at you. Almost fearlessly, you meet his eyes.

Almost fearlessly.

The shaking of your hands betrays the strength of your voice. Belphegor’s chest aches.

“But…”

There’s a pause as you speak. He can’t look away again, even as your eyes meet the stars once more. There’s no chance he’ll miss a word you say, even if it tears him apart.

“It’s… it’s really difficult. I know you know that, but…”

Each time you pause, Belphegor’s mind begins storming. He can’t figure out what you’re going to say, or how you’re going to react, and it drives him crazy. He’s usually so good at reading people, but you’re an enigma. It sends a chill down his spine.

His throat is caught. Even if he had words to say, they wouldn’t be able to come out. So he sits in silence as you find your own.

“I don’t want you to feel worse than you do.” You lick your lips. “Or maybe I do? I… I really don’t know. I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel about you, Belphie.”

The nickname tugs at his heart, more than he could ever admit. He wants to cry, wants to scream, wants to do anything other than look at your melancholy face, knowing he’s the problem. He wants to run and hide, to sleep forever. He can’t, though. Not when you’re here. Not now.

Knuckles turn white as he clutches desperately onto his pillow. His breath shakes as he draws in air.

“I want to love you. I want to love you as much as I love your brothers, and care about you as much as I care for them…”

You struggle to find the words.

“... But it’s hard.”

You curse your lack of eloquence. Now, of all times, when your words are the only thing that enable you to communicate how you truly feel, they fail you. This might be your only chance to ever properly show Belphegor how you feel, what makes you so conflicted every time he walks into the room with a smile on his face, and yet all you can say is “it’s hard”. Obviously.

A breath finds its way into your lungs, and the sound of your lips parting in the otherwise silent planetarium echoes in your ears.

You continue.

“It’s hard because every time I see your face, or I hear your voice, or I-”, you falter, heart catching in your throat, “or you touch me, I can’t help but be reminded of what happened.”

Belphegor doesn’t dare tear his eyes away from your form. The grief that settles into his face perfectly matches your own, eyebrows upturned and bottom lip quivering just the slightest bit. Even the trembling of your hands is replicated in his own. He’s never seen you like this, so incredibly vulnerable, and it tears him apart inside to know that he is the cause of it.

A shuddery breath comes from Belphegor, and you fight your instincts to check if he’s okay. You know he isn’t.

The silence deafens you, thundering in your ears so harshly that you're tempted to place your hands at the side of your head to muffle how quiet it is. You don’t, however, and whether it’s because you don’t want to look crazy, or because you’re afraid you might shatter if you move, you’ll never know. Do you want him to talk? Do you want him to say anything? Do you want an apology?

If you had an answer for that, you’re sure that things would have patched themselves up much quicker than this. You caution a glance at Belphegor, and the weight pressing down on your chest gets heavier at his expression. It feels almost as if you can inhale the guilt he feels, the emotion radiating off of him in waves.

“I… Logically, Belphie, I get it.” Again with that cursed nickname. Usually, hearing it from your lips makes Belphegor feel warm and goddamn near giddy, but now it only seemed to drive the knife in his gut further.

“I understand what happened and why you did it. I may not agree… but I get it, you know?” You swallow.

“In the end, I’m still here. And… and I’ve come to learn that you’re nothing like that anymore. You’ve grown, and changed, and the guilt and anger that consumed you took control, and that's why you-- that’s--”

You pause, clutching the blanket around you to try and ground yourself. The shakiness in your voice is not missed by Belphegor, and even if it had been, there’s no way he’d be able to ignore the tears that threaten to spill from your eyes. Slowly, subconsciously, one of your hands comes up to rest against your neck, a phantom of the grasp that once threatened to crush you.

“S-So… I understand why you did it. And I’m alive, and we’re friends, so it should all be okay, right?” Belphegor casts his glance away.

“But Belphie… as much as I want to forgive you, I also know that I’m never going to be able to forget what happened. It’s there in my dreams, and it’s there in your smile, and it’s there every single time your arm brushes mine and I flinch like a total loser.”

A weak chuckle makes its way out of your chest, and the halfhearted smile that follows forces a tear from your eye. You’re quick to wipe it away, hopefully quick enough so that it goes unnoticed by Belphegor.

It does.

What he does notice, however, is the frustration that holds tight to the edges of your sentences. The frustration is not directed at him, no. You would be yelling if that were the case, and maybe that would be easier for him to hear. No, this frustration is directed at yourself. You’ve been trying so hard, and all Belphegor has been doing is running away. His teeth dig so hard into his bottom lip, trying desperately not to show any anger he feels at himself, that he tastes iron.

“And then we became all buddy-buddy, you know? Like I was never lied to, or used, or manipulated, or-- or--”

Belphegor is torn from his self-pity when you continue, and he almost wishes you’d stop speaking. The thought that you might break him with your words has him shaking, and a feeling similar to fear courses heavily through his veins. Please, stop. He wants to go back to running away.

But you continue, as you always have.

“And I’m left not knowing how to feel. I’m so mad at myself for being such a coward and not being able to just get over it like everyone else, and I’m so fucking pissed that I can’t just exist around you like I do for everyone else. I mean, I used to be terrified of Lucifer, too.” Another fragile laugh, and you sweep the hair from your eyes with a shaky hand. Belphegor swallows hard.

“But I… I can’t pretend like nothing happened. As much as I want to be near you, and hug you, and take naps and play pranks on Luci with you… I can’t. I can’t act as if what I feel isn’t real, and what you did didn’t happen. It’s so hard, Belphegor.” You sigh, and finally look at him once more. He can’t meet your gaze, slumped over himself and hugging his pillow so tight to his chest it seems as if he wishes to disappear into it. “Especially because I really, truly want to understand why everyone loves you so much. And I want to love you, too. I want to know why Beel smiles every time you’re brought up in conversation, and I want to smile just the same. But… But right now, I can’t.”

Talking has gotten easier. The words that used to escape you have become accustomed to being used again, and confidence has restored in your gut. You sit a bit straighter as you watch Belphegor carefully, a sad smile lifting your cheeks.

Belphegor knows that this is when he should swoop in, say something so intellectual that you’re caught off guard, and he can save you from… himself. This knowledge does nothing to save him from himself. He can’t even open his mouth to mime a sentence, let alone actually speak. The thought of how pathetic he must look settles under Belphegor’s skin, and he can feel his irritation rising. Not at you though, never at you. Not even when… When it all happened. His anger was misplaced, but he has never been angry at you.

Finally, when the quiet becomes too much, he forces himself to meet your gaze. The way you look at him, just as vulnerable and bare and scared as he is… he feels safe. He knows, even though your words sear his heart, that you never mean to hurt him, especially now. You’re being honest, and simply expect the same from him.

Belphegor inhales a deep breath, before willing himself to speak.

“I thought--” he croaks, and quickly clears his throat. Fuck. “I thought that if… if I could pretend that nothing happened, then I wouldn’t have to face any consequences.”

He curses audibly. Just how pathetic can he sound? Belphegor’s voice is hoarse and quivering, and weak. “Weak” is never a word that he would have used to describe himself, but now it echoes hauntingly against the confines of his skull. One of the most powerful demons in existence, and he finds himself quaking before a mere human. He cares for you, though, and he cares for you viciously. Something in Belphegor knows that he’s never going to be able to prove that to you unless he pushes his way through this.

So he forces himself to continue, even with every cell in his body desperately screaming at him to stop.

“I did what I did out of a place of guilt… and regret. I couldn’t stand the fact that it was because of me, that it was my fault, that I’m the reason that Lilith--”

Belphegor stumbles over his own words, and he sets down his pillow before he accidentally tears a hole through it. Instead he braces himself on the cool floor, in need of something steady to hold onto. This whole conversation shook him to the core. He can hardly believe he’s talking about his sister. She’s a topic that he’s avoided even around Beelzebub…

But if Belphegor ever wants even the possibility that you’ll forgive him, he knows he has to. Everything is on the line. His blunt nails press against the tiles and he focuses on steadying his voice.

“I couldn’t accept that it was my fault.” A newfound steadiness weaves its way around his words, and he finds himself sitting a bit straighter. “I’m the one who introduced her to the human world, and kept bringing her back. I’m the reason she suffered, and why the war started, and why we fell, and why she…” Belphegor coughs. “In the end, I couldn’t accept that I’m the one who killed her.

Your heart yearns to tell him that no, he’s wrong, it’s not all his fault. You know it won’t help right now, though, and that it isn’t your time to speak. Settling back a bit, you let your blanket fall from your shoulders.

Belphegor’s heart stutters, and pounds so hard that he feels like it's trying to tear through his chest. Even so, he doesn’t miss the way your hand reaches out to smooth over his own, and for a moment he feels himself wanting to melt just from the simple touch.

Belphegor pulls away. He doesn’t deserve your comfort, not yet.

“So… So when you said that you’re a descendant of Lilith, I-- I couldn’t help myself. I jumped at the chance to get to know you, learn about what makes you similar and what makes you different. Her blood flows through your veins, and I was quick to ignore what I did in favour of getting to know you, and… and inevitably, becoming just as fond of you as my brothers… but that can’t erase what I did.”

The feeling of understanding floods you and you find yourself nodding at his words. To be completely honest, even now, you’re scared. Your heart beats for many reasons, fear one of them, but you don’t run away. Not anymore. You couldn’t bring yourself to even if you wanted to.

Your hand, abandoned next to Belphegor’s, lay dormant. The need to comfort wills you to once again place your hand on his, but you don’t move. When he’s ready, if he ever is, you’ll be there.

Just as he’ll be there for you.

“I killed you, MC. And in doing that, I killed Lilith. Again.”

Countless emotions storm their way through Belphegor’s conscience, despair clawing at his throat, regret snapping his back, and guilt slowly crushing him under its weight. How is it that one can feel so empty, and yet so filled to the brim with misery?

“And not only that, but if I succeeded… I would have completely missed out on getting to know you, and caring about you as much as I do now. It would have been a loss that I never would have understood, but know for a fact that I would have felt. Even… Even when I was proud,” he spits out the word as if it’s poison, “of what I’d done, watching my brothers’ hearts break at the sight of your body… Even then, I felt it. The ache. It’s so fucking stupid.”

His tone, now bubbling with anger, stills you. It’s not directed at you, and you know this, but despite yourself, you freeze. Belphegor notices, and quickly clears his throat, relaxing his shoulders. He allows your heart a moment to slow as he regains his composure, and you find yourself breathing again.

“I know that me saying sorry is never going to cut it.” Belphegor turns his body to fully face you. He’s no longer running from his feelings, or from you. He knows he can’t anymore. Hesitantly, he lifts his trembling hand to place over yours. The muscles in your fingers tense, and he pauses to gauge your reaction. When you slowly nod your head once, he delicately places his hand on yours, using his thumb to gently begin massaging the tension away. “And I know that even if I do everything right from here on out, that there’s a chance that you won’t ever forgive me. And I understand why.”

Your heart sinks at his expression, his gaze locked on your joined hands. As aloof as he normally is, you can see none of that on his face now. When you turn over your hand he quickly pulls away, but your shaky movements to bring his hand back and intertwine your fingers urges him to go on.

“But I want to try. And really try this time. I want you to be honest with how you feel, whether I’m frustrating you or scaring you or anything like that, and… and I want to be honest with you too. I…”

Belphegor trails off, but you squeeze his hand. He draws in a slow breath.

“No matter what happens, no matter how you feel, we’re stuck together for the next few months. I want to spend that time getting to know you, and I want us to be as close as you are with any of my brothers… but I also want you to know that you shouldn’t feel forced. If it’s ever too much, I need you to tell me, and I promise I’ll back off.”

The smallest of smiles makes its way onto your face as you quietly agree. Belphegor doesn’t allow himself to try and figure out if it's genuine, out of pity, or sadness, but in spite of everything, it makes him feel a bit lighter. Just a bit.

“This won’t fix everything right away,” you say, and he now knows that your smile is a combination of the three. Along with this, though, Belphegor also knows the small sparkle in your eyes is hope, and he’s willing to take that hope and nurture it for however long he must.

“I know,” he sighs, but even he can feel the small tilt of a smile on his face, “but I’m willing to take as much time as you need to decide how you feel about me. And… And if you decide you hate me, which is fair, and that you never want to even be in the same room as me, I’ll respect your wishes.

Until then...Until you decide that you really, truly hate me, I won’t stop trying.”

There’s no way of telling how long his words linger in the air around the two of you, circling around your heads and making their way through your body. Even so, Belphegor diligently watches you, wanting to make sure he’s not overstepping his bounds. He even contemplates letting go of you, but is reassured when slowly, almost unnoticeably, you begin smoothing out the lines on the back of his hand with your thumb.

As much as you want to tell him that you could never hate him, you also know you can’t promise anything. Still, for now, just as much as him, you’re willing to try. You stay in silence, more comfortable than you’ve ever been in his presence, gently caressing the hand held in your own.

Eventually, Belphegor clears his throat once more. The vulnerability has made him tense and rendered his voice weak.

“Can… can you hug me?” He all but whispers, fragility making his body quiver once more. He was completely open about his feelings for the first time in a lifetime, and the intensity of it left him craving affection. He knows how unfair this is to you, but he can’t help himself. He wishes to be held, for his fears to be quelled by someone so much stronger than him. “If you don’t want to,” he falters, speaking quickly, insecurely, “I won't even touch you. I-If you do, I promise I can keep my hands behind my back, and I won’t even--”

His words end abruptly as he feels you release his hand, and his heart sinks. He debates running away again, until he hears you moving towards him, and he finds he’s frozen in place. Slowly, but surely, with more courage circulating through your veins than you’ve had all night, you make your way over the blankets that divide you and position yourself right next to Belphegor, pulling him into your chest. Even now, he can feel how quickly, persistently your heart races, and yet you stay. True to his word, Belphegor rests his hands on the ground behind his back, but he doesn’t stop himself from nuzzling into your chest… and he cries. The complete, uninhibited release of his emotions hit him like a truck, and he sobs heavily into you, tears slowly but surely staining your shirt. You adjust yourself so you can hold him closer, slowly and reassuringly rubbing his back as he lets go of everything he’s been holding on to for longer than you can even imagine. This is a man who’s run from his emotions for centuries, and the fact that he’s willing to face them for your sake comforts you, cradles your heart and presses gentle kisses against the cracks. You know that you’re not going to wake up tomorrow with everything okay, but for now… for now you’re comfortable with his touch. Heaving in a deep, steadying breath, you reach down just enough to take Belphegor’s arms, and guide them to rest his hands on your hips. At this silent permission, he slowly, delicately wraps his arms around your waist, despite craving your body closer, wanting to hold you tight and never let go. He cradles you like you’re made of the most brittle glass, and you smile. The gesture touches your heart, and… and you feel safe. You know that all he wants to do is embrace you as tight as he can, but he doesn’t, even with permission.

Here, in Belphegor’s arms, you feel safe. Here, where Belphegor’s grip on you is so gentle that it wouldn’t even crumple paper, you feel loved. As he cries into your chest, holding you as if you were an antique, hope slowly fills your heart.

Everything is far from perfect, but it’s still on the right track, here in the quiet planetarium.

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azazelsconfessional · 3 years

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((pssst. I'm gonna start wrapping up the Special Guests event.

In 24~48ish hours I'll be closing the askbox and reducing the queue to once a day so i can start tackling some of the asks i have and hopefully get through most, if not all of them, before i reopen the ask box and resume things from primarily Azazel as was intended and also be less overwhelmed by everything in general.

So please get your questions for the other Missionaries in before that happens!

Questions you may have!:

Are you coming back?

Probably! I intend to come back when I get half or more of my asks done or after a week, whichever is soonest.

Who can we send asks to until you close the ask box?

Everyone I've been playing EXCEPT Jacob. That is: Azazel, Maria, Arsalan, Zabaniyya, Nyarlathotep, Gabriel, and Kimun/Wen Kamui.

Jacob can still answer questions, but for some reason my mind's decided he went and wandered off again. He might come back, but as it is maybe keep direct questions for him to a minimum or asking the others about him instead.

What will happen to threads featuring the other Missionaries?

Any rp threads, ask chains, etc they're already part of will continue until they're finished or dropped.

What should I do with any questions or tags I have for your characters?

Before I close the ask box? Just send them in as normal.

After the askbox is closed, please hold on to them and send them in once the askbox is open again. Alternatively, send asks to others' ask blogs! (I'm only listing the ones I've seen active recently haha there are two or three inactive ones probably listed in my following page/tab)

Azazel specifically: Azazel-One-Who-Sees-All

MCs and OCs: AlbcatMasterCat (OC) | ChatWithAna (MC) | TaggysTryingTimes (MC + Canons) | Trickster-God-Loki (OC) |

Bonus LiveAHero: Barrels-Wild-West (SFW ONLY) (Barrel)

Are any other blogs besides this one affected?

No, unless for some reason someone decides to do the same. Which is up to them, really.

Is this someone's fault or the fault of any chain or theme or thread?

No, I just need to regain some control and stability here and wanna do some cleaning up. It will be easiest for me to do this if I allow myself some time for it, and this is the best way I can think of to do so.

I really intended for this event to go like. Until mid September. And it's September 16th for me, so that's about middle so I should work on closing it up now yeah? Lol.

If you have anything else to ask, you can send an ask or IM or reply to this post! o/ thank you for continuing to play with me, send asks to Azazel and the other Missionaries, and being patient as always! 👌🏾))

#ooc #event | special guests #((i'd @ everyone but that'd be super annoying))

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bringingglory · 3 years

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@eerna oh my god acshdgagaahhdvsahsv I never expected you to see my post, so I won't lie, I feel like super embarrassed acsgsga

anyway! not gonna lie, this wip has been sitting in my drafts for months now because I wanted to see if I could plan stuff but then I got stuck because Details are hard to figure out BUT I did write out a few scenes, so I'll put them below the cut because they're kind of long. the first one is the "opening" of the fic and the second one is a sort of reimagining of the Silent Princess memory. i have a few other scenes sort of scribbled out, but these are the most "polished" of the stuff i've written alsdkfjasdfk

the opening lol

Link wakes to a faint buzzing in his ear that sends little darts of pain shooting through his skull. He waits for it to end, and when it doesn’t he groans and rolls over, smacking the space around him to find whatever was making that noise and make it shut up. He can’t fathom why his brain is rolling through his skull like that and why there’s an intense pressure behind his eyes, but when he rolls onto his side, he has to press a hand to his abdomen to settle whatever was sloshing around inside his stomach.

Ah. He’s hungover.

Link peels open his eyes and the light sends a fresh wave of pain ricocheting through his skull. He blinks once, twice, and then forces his eyes open to find a phone the size vibrating against the ground a few inches away from his hand.

Link groans and pushes himself up to a sitting position before grabbing the phone and dismissing the alarm. When the phone falls silent in his hands, he finally looks around and tries to assess the situation.

He’s sitting in a bathtub, the porcelain slightly damp from what he hopes is just water. His shirt smells vaguely of cheap vodka and he still can barely look at the sunlight streaming through the window without wincing.

A moment later, he realizes the phone in his hands isn’t his.

Link holds the phone up to his face and rubs the grogginess from his eyes. He swipes up on the screen, surprised that it isn’t protected by a password.

The phone is open on note in the notes app, and it reads:

link, if you’re reading this right now, im so sorry for leaving you in the tub like that!!! my dad’s supposed to come home from the office today and the document case i was telling you about is missing and he cant know i lost it. i know we just started getting along, and im so sorry to ask you this, but could you find the document case? impa’s in my contacts and she can help you. also you have permission to dig through my phone, just dont judge me if i have anything embarrassing on there. can you find the file by midnight? his flight leaves at 3 and i can stall him until then.

it’s 6:11 right now so i have to run before he gets back, but please hurry! i’ll be waiting for you

-zelda

Link blinks and turns the phone off.

Last night? What happened last night? Why can’t he remember anything?

Well, if his raging headache tells him anything, it’s that he had probably blacked out last night.

Link isn’t usually a drinker or a partier. He isn’t really one to go to big social events. So he’s really confused as to why he woke up passed out in a tub with zero memories.

And also, why Zelda left her phone with him.

a version of the Silent Princess memory but they're at a party and its modern

Zelda laughs. “I think I got a little too sober from the Yiga incident to enjoy the party now.”

Link isn’t sure if he’s supposed to laugh with her, but nods anyway. “Do you want to get some air?”

Zelda gives him an odd look, then sighs. “Yeah. Yes. That would be a good idea.”

Surprisingly, she grabs his forearm and leads him through all the bodies pressed against each other. He can feel the heat of her hand wrapping entirely around his arm like a hot glove, even above the heat of the late summer air and the heat from other people in close proximity.

Somehow, they make it to the other side of the house. Zelda pushes the back door open and pulls him past the other stragglers outside before they find a nice tree with a patch of grass that seems generally clear of alcohol and vomit.

Zelda releases his arm as soon as she finds the tree and she sits down, dropping her head against the trunk.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

Zelda waves her hand vaguely.

Link pauses. “Do you need water?”

“If you get me any more water, I’m probably gonna piss myself,” says Zelda. “Sit down.”

He sits down.

The crickets hum vaguely around them, mingling with the distant buzzing and thumping bass of the music from the party. But without people pressing in from all sides and an open field in front of them, it finally feels like he can take a full breath.

The silence settles over them like a blanket. It feels comfortable to him, but he isn’t sure if it’s supposed to be.

“Oh, Link, look.”

Link cranes his head to see Zelda twist around and point out a blue flower glowing vaguely in the dark. It was beautiful with blue petals so light they looked almost white, and a sky blue bleeding out from the center before fading out.

He wants to give her a questioning look, but she’s transfixed on the flower. He can see the smallest of smiles creeping up onto the corners of her mouth.

“It’s a Silent Princess,” she says. “It was my mom’s favorite flower.”

He can tell something important is happening, so he keeps his mouth shut.

“She said that we can’t grow them domestically yet, despite our best efforts.” Zelda breaks into a full smile and it’s radiant. “The Princess can only thrive out here. In the wild.”

They both turn to look back at the house as another loud WHOOP cuts through the air, followed by the sound of a can being crushed against a head.

“Nature is beautiful,” says Link.

Zelda swats him and he has to bite back a laugh.

She turns and runs a gentle finger along one of the petals before sighing and leaning back against the tree.

“Thank you,” she says suddenly. “For being there with the Yiga. And for being there the whole party.” He can hear her swallow. “I’m sorry for being a bitch.”

“You weren’t being a bitch,” says Link.

“I was, though.” Zelda inhales beside him. “I mean, just because I’m under a lot of stress from my dad doesn’t mean I’m allowed to take it out on other people. I was acting like a kid.”

“To be fair, your dad sounds like an asshole sometimes.”

Zelda snorts. “Yeah. He can be.” He turns his head to see her lean forward to fiddle with the grass. “But he’s got a lot on his plate. And it probably doesn’t help that his daughter doesn’t want anything to do with his ‘legacy.’”

“Just because your dad’s under a lot of pressure doesn’t mean he’s allowed to be an asshole,” Link points out.

Zelda finally looks up at him and offers him a small grin. “Fair enough.”

“And besides, you’re your own person. You don’t need to follow in his footsteps.”

“That’s what I said,” huffs Zelda. “But of course it’s, ‘blah blah you have a responsibility. I didn’t raise you like this so you could waste your time researching pointless things.’” She sighs. “It’s fine. It’s whatever. I came to this stupid party to blow off steam, I guess. But Goddess, I did not eat enough today to drink that many cans of shitty beer.”

Link sits upright, alert. “Do you need to get food or—”

“No, no, that’s fine.” And that smile returns and Link wonders what else he can say to make it stay. “You’re sweet. But I’ve probably gotten drunk enough tonight.” Her eyes slide up to him and the mischief in them stops his heart for a moment. “You still have to try the Hot Frog.”

Link blinked. “...what is that?”

the endings are abrupt on both of them just bc i wasn't entirely sure how to end them akldjfasd. also the "Hot Frog" is gonna be some kind of mixed drink that gets link really drunk -- me trying to allude more to the original memory from the game haha

anyway, thank you so much for the ask! and thank u for coming up with the shitpost because it made me laugh the first time i read it hasdklfj hopefully i'll continue this one day and do ur shitpost au justice!

#lmao i just realized i titled the fic 'the lelda of zelda: breath of the weath' bc of a meme i saw at the time of making the google doc #also this is completely unimportant but im normally a past tense kind of gal #so it was a bit of an experiment writing in present tense for this #i might end up switching to past tense again later anyway aksjdfhasd #anyway thank you again for the ask <3 #eerna #asks

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rreyie · 3 years

Text

snk/aot characters when being comforted 🥺

warnings: suggested violence/trauma, some “no regrets” spoilers, anime spoilers

characters: levi, eren, armin, reiner

a/n: yes i know i’m just doing the guys again but if it’s requested i’ll do the girls too!! this is all mainly just a lot of fluff lol. if there’s any other characters y’all want me to do then feel free to ask for the ask box is OPEN!

⚔️ LEVI ACKERMAN ⚔️

out of everyone on this list, levi needs a good old comforting the most.

he’s watched his friends and commanders die, and he doesn’t get too close to anyone in fear of him getting attached and then that person dying on him

you realize what he’s been through after hange gives you a quick talk on why levi is like how he is

you feel unimaginable sorrow for this poor man... he’s watched everyone he loved die, it only makes sense for him to act so shut out from the world

you walk right up to his office, and burst in the door without even asking

“hey brat, don’t you know how to knock-“

he’s cut off by you wrapping him in a giant bear hug, the first one he’s felt in decades.

he is disgusted at first, confused on what was happening, and attempted to wiggle away. but he soon realized that you weren’t letting go.

he started to like the unfamiliar sensation of the hug you had completely encased him in. he hugged you back, gently placing his hands on your back.

“oi... what’s up with this, y/n” he asked, and you attempted to pull away from the hug he had trapped you in

but NO you couldn’t move. this man would not let you go

“it’s a way of saying...i’m here to stay. and i’m not going to leave you. i’ll stay alive for you.”

you feel a bit of wetness on the crook of your neck, which is where levi rested his head on. you realized he had shed a tear.

“levi are you crying? are you ok-“ “NO NO IM N-NOT IM FINE”

his voice started to crack, and his tear turned into many, and he started to quietly sob.

you directed him to the small velvet sofa in his office, and let him lay on your lap and just let it all out :(

he BEGGED you not to tell anyone that he shed a couple tears

that day that you hugged him is still thought about by him... you even turned him into a cuddle addict

⚔️ EREN YEAGER ⚔️

he’s touch starved.

he’s too busy putting up his “manly” facade to even think about his own emotions

he wants to be there for you and the rest of the cadets, sometimes putting himself in physical danger so you could live

you were laying with him on his bed, looking through an old photo album you found in the basement, littered with faded pictures of grisha and zeke when they were younger

“i can’t believe that my father hid this from me my whole life”, he said. “why would he do this? why couldn’t he just let the world know?”

his anger towards his father was bitter, stronger now than ever

“and why... why did all this bad stuff have to happen to me?! i saw everyone die! i couldn’t do anything about it like the weak bastard i am!”

you saw a small tear splatter into a photo with diane, grisha and zeke

“eren, are you okay?” “yeah... just a little choked up but don’t worry about me!”

his cheeks began to look flushed, his eyes glistening

you knew eren didn’t really like physical contact that much because he wasn’t used to it, but your instinct to comfort him became too strong

you wrapped him in a tender hug, his eyes wide with shock.

he started to sob, his cries growing louder by the minute

he held you tighter than you held him, he really just wanted someone to hang on to

even though you two weren’t dating at the time, you pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, the kiss reminding eren of his mother all too much

his sobs were now the equivalent of how hard he cried when he saw hans get eaten alive

“hey...” you say with a soft tone in your voice, and you guide erens head to meet yours, your eyes making contact.

“you’re safe now, eren. i’m holding you, and i won’t let anything hurt you. you can let all the anger out now.”

he looked at you, his green eyes vibrant with distress. his face was red, multiple tears dripping down his face.

“and don’t ever, ever say that you’re weak again. you’re one of the strongest guys i’ve ever met. you’ve discovered a key to humanity’s victory! you’re a leading part in our battle!”

eren managed to grin a little bit, pulling you back in for a hug. you kiss his forehead again, eren greatful for your touch. he even managed to kiss you on your cheek, which made you blush at the sight :)

⚔️ ARMIN ARLERT ⚔️

okay... even though armin didn’t have a really bad childhood, the events he lived through with working with the scouts and cadets really put a toll on him

he’s a nervous wreck now

it was a night you two were sharing the same bed where you woke up to hear armin screaming bloody murder

you quickly turn over to check on the blonde boy, him shaking frantically, his cries loud.

“armin! are you okay? did anyone hurt you?”

he’s trembling so much he can’t even get a word out of his mouth

“armin you’re fine... see? it’s just me, you and this big ol bed of ours!”

armin finally managed to make sense of his words

“y-you’re alive? after being e-eaten by a titan?”

“armin what titan?” “the one you were just crushed by?”

you were puzzled and confused. “you had a bad dream, love. i’m alive and okay.”

his breathing starts to slow down and he just... wraps you in a giant hug, a gentle one tho

you hug him back, feeling his sobs quiet down and his tears start to dry

for the rest of the night, you two cuddle up and spoon, and no matter how hard you try to get up in the morning, he will NOT let you go

⚔️ REINER BRAUN ⚔️

poor guy has been through so much... between losing his best friends, seeing his home getting burned down by the eldians, trying to off himself, he’s been through the works

similar to eren hes so busy putting up that tough guy face that he abandons his own needs

you find him in his room during that one scene where he’s got a rifle in his mouth ready to end it all

“hey reiner pieck said that she needs you to sign these- uh what are you doing?”

he slowly turns to you, his eyes dull, hair messy, and slowly takes out the rifle and puts it on the ground

“i’m so done with this world, everything we’ve done isn’t getting us anywhere. i’m just holding you all back. i’ll make use of myself by making myself into titan fodder...”

you drop that important stack of papers at your feet and rush to hug this drained man

his face turns red, not knowing what exactly to do in this moment

he hugs you back extremely tightly- he’s like a giant teddy bear that craves affection

you press a little kiss to his cheek and if the hug didn’t make him red already...

“reiner, you have never been a burden to us and never will be. we need you to succeed...”

from this day on he expects a lot more hugs from you so BE PREPARED

maybe even the occasional kiss ;)

these were kind of sad to write but also v cute in some areas... anyway the ask box is open to leave suggestions for more posts!! love you all!!

#aot hcs #aot headcanons #snk #attack on titan #reiner braun #eren yeager #snk levi #levi ackerman #armin arlert #snk fluff

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words-for-holland · 4 years

Text

Quarantine Series: Movie Night

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: A glimpse of what Movie Night is like for Tom & Y/N

A/N: I’ve been missing our fave couple from Quarantine Series 😩 and Fluff in general lol.

Many may not know this, but at the start of Y/N & Tom’s relationship they made a couple of promises. To always be honest with each other, communicate as much as they can, and tell each other “I love you” everyday. But there was one promise they loved the most, Movie Nights every Wednesday...no exceptions! Of course, this was just a promise they made to each other at the start of Quarantine. Nonethless, it’s a Wednesday Night and the show must go on...literally.

Y/N’s alarm went off at 6 P.M., alerting her it was time to drop all her work. As she started logging off and rearranging her notes, she felt a pair of strong hands placed gently on her shoulders. “It’s Wednesday Night.” Her boyfriend whispered in her ear with a smile of excitement plastered on his face. “You know what that means.”

Y/N placed her small hands on his as she turned to give his a quick kiss. “Movie Nights with a side of cuddles?” She answered, sighing deeply in comfort. “I’ve been waiting for this all day.”

“Darling, I’ve waited all week.” Tom fired back, chuckling lightly. He helped her out of her seat, as he led her to the living room. “So, I’ll grab the snacks and you pick out the movie?”

Y/N looked at him, cocking her eyebrow in suspicion. “Babe, you know how long it takes for me to find a movie to watch.” It’s true. If there was one thing Y/N was well known for, it was for her indecisiveness. For Y/N, picking a movie wasn’t the kind where you could pick the first one off the self or what was in the Top 10. It had to be a movie that set the mood, had adventure, had nostalgia, with a hint of darkness and entertainment.

“I know, and I’m hoping by the time I get all the food and stuff ready, you’d find a movie by then.” Tom explained, kissing away her suspicion. “Plus I already did ask you to marry me. Im out of the surprises at the moment.”

Y/N smiled at his comment, looking at her ring and thinking about that day. “True. Im just saying it’s gonna be awhile.”

“Well, hopefully you find one within the hour.” Tom kisses the top of Y/N’s head one more time before he leaves for the kitchen. As Y/N sets up Netflix on the screen and starts her search, Harrison, Harry and Tuwaine make their way into the living room. Their faces dropping when they see Y/N, picking out a movie.

“Well lads, we picked the wrong week for Movie Night.” Harrison joked around. “Damn, I thought Tom was picking out the movie.”

“Hey! I know I take forever but I dont take THAT long.” Y/N argues as she stucks her tongue out playfully.

“Y/N, I could probably finish our movie script by the time you find one.” Harry joins in as he sits down on his usual seat at the far left corner.

“Yeah mate and I can probably do my laundry too and finish Call of Duty by the time shes done.” Tuwaine laughs, as he takes his seat.

“Look Y/N, I’ll make a bet with you. If you can find a movie in the next ten minutes I’ll give you 20 quid. How much is that in American dollars” Harrison says, with no sign of bluff.

“I think $20” Tuwaine says, when he comes to the realization of what Harrison was offering. “Oi, wait! You’re gonna give this girl 20 quid if she just picks a lousy movie?!”

“Relax you div. He knows Y/N wont just pick any movie thats why he’s betting a good chunk.” Harry says as he watches Y/N scroll through the same page for a movie.

Y/N looks back at the boys, as she smirks slightly. “Okay fine. Start the clock.”

The moment they started the timer, Y/N immediately yells, “Done! We’re watching Series of Unfortunate Events.”

Harry and Tuwain groan in unision as they look at Harrison. “Mate, now you gotta pay her 20 quid.” Tuwain whispers to him.

“Yeah, but at least you’re not waiting for another 8 hours before she picks one.” Harrison whispers back to which Tuwaine nods in agreement.

“A clever div, you are.” Tuwaine responds.

Tom enters the living room with freshley popped popcorn, Crunch bars, and Oreos. It was their usual every week and both swore they couldn’t finish Movie Night without it. “Oh cmon! I thought you’d guys wouldn’t join this week.” Tom groaned as he sees his best mates all hogging the couch with Y/N.

“Sorry mate, but Y/N picked a classic, so we’re staying....and I lost 20 quid for this.” Harrison mumbled as he sunk further into the couch.

Tom rolls his eyes as he walks past the filled couch only to stop at Y/N. He quickly scoops her up bridal style, as she squeaks at the sudden moment. Soon after, he drops her off on to the next couch, and wraps his strong arms around her tummy. Intaking her cocoa butter scent, which smelled like chocolate, he nuzzles his head into her neck. “Not the Movie Night I imagined, but as long as I get to cuddle you...it’s just as perfect.” He confesses as they watch the screen.

“Hmm...it’s always perfect with you.” Y/N mumbles as she struggles to open her eyes. It was a habit of hers to fall asleep when watching the movies she picked. Not because they were boring, but because of how comforting they were. The mood of the film, the dark atmosphere with only the television lighting up the room, Tom holding her and leaving soft kisses...how could she not?

“It’s okay darling, if you want to sleep. I got you.” He whispers, smiling into her hair. Y/N tilts her head back to look at Tom. “I know you do. I love you.” She whispers back, as Tom leans into to peck her small lips. Within minutes, Y/N falls fast asleep and so do the other boys. Tom looks around and smiles, thinking of how incredible it is to genuinely feel like he’s home. He shuts off the television once the movie ends, and places a blanket on the boys so they keep warm. For Y/N, he gently carries her off to their bedroom as he tucks both of them in, falling back asleep after yet another successful Movie Night.

Taglist:

@hollanddolanfangirl @parkerspillow

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader

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shadow--writer · 3 years

Text

Through That Mist I See the Shape of You and I Know That I'm in Love With You

after WEEKS of writers block and rewriting this bitch I HAVE FINISHED. TITLE (it slaps)

Maeve x Lucas. Sometimes I wonder what it’d be like to tell you I love you. 6k

CW (im changing it lol): mentions of past trauma (Lucas), some bat hisses n hatred, flirting, these are dorks in love

@dela-png

A headache was starting to build behind her eyes.

Were all dates with Lucas going to be this...eventful?

...unlucky?

Incredibly unlucky?

She stared at the bat on the table, who was currently locked in a hissing battle with her partner. Tehi had fluffed herself to look bigger than she was, wings spread on the table. The high pitched hiss was directed at the one and only Lucas.

Who was shooting her a wounded plea for help.

Oh this was going swimmingly. At least she didn’t get bit by an eel this time.

...unless he could summon them to land, which she almost doubted. But knowing him and the magic of this town? It was likely.

She sighed, massaging her temples.

“You royally pissed her off,” she said after a moment, cracking an eye open to look at him. She giggled, watching him rest his head on the table. He banged his forehead, making her snort.

“Why! I didn’t do anything,” he moaned, looking over at her. She patted his head, Tehi letting out another hiss.

Currently, Tehi was in front of their dinner, biting his hand every time he reached for something. His hands had suffered quite a bit in the past ten minutes.

He stared longingly at the apple rings and the butternut squash he brought. “She’s even guarding dinner,” he grumbled.

The situation was...delicate.

Tehi, bless her heart, was on thin fucking ice. Lucas, bless his heart, was treading on eggshells.

And her? She had no heart to bless but she was ready to give up and go on without any more squash (sadly enough).

Having a territorial protective bat had its downsides. She grew up with Tehi, finding her in a tree injured and eating the fruit for harvest. Broke her ankle trying to get her down, her father lecturing her for hours after.

But Tehi knew her. And she could read how she felt about Lucas just by body language alone.

And Tehi was not happy.

Of course, the sentiment was sweet, Tehi was being protective because of things in the past (that she was currently trying to viciously ignore), but...now she was just making sure Lucas starved.

And Lucas…

Was sulking. She saw no end in sight unless Tehi stopped hissing.

Second date was going worse than the first.

“Most animals like me,” he said, reaching for Tehi, jerking his hand back as she lept for him. “Why not her? Is it a scent thing?”

“It’s uh...me thing.”

He looked up at her as she scooted closer to him, resting her hand on his knee. “Tehi doesn’t...like people getting close to me...romantically. Friends are fine, but you are um…”

“No longer a friend?”

She patted his knee with a smile. “No, I still treasure our friendship, we’re just different now.”

“So she just doesn’t…”

“Like you. Being with me. Like this.”

“How does she know?”

She felt herself flush. “She um...just knows! She’s been around me most of my life so she can read me pretty well.”

“Oh...like Jolie and me!” His brows furrowed. “So she doesn’t like...me being with you?”

“It’s a very horrific crime, I’m afraid. Mo mhuirnín dílis,” she said, kissing his forehead. He settled into her touch, Tehi letting out an indignant squawk. “I don’t think she’ll ever forgive you for this.”

He made a face. “Well she’ll have to get over it.”

“Mmhmm, I’m afraid you’re stuck with me for a while longer.”

He opened his eyes, smiling a little. “I like being stuck with you.”

She flushed. “Don’t be sappy in front of my bat. She hates you enough already.”

He puffed his cheeks out in a pout, the face strikingly similar…

...to one she made.

“I don’t want her to hate me though,” he whined, looking over at Tehi. She clutched her strawberry close, letting out a very angry hiss at his gaze. He turned away.

“I’m afraid you have no choice. You’ll grow on her eventually.”

“Eventually,” he repeated with a grumble. “Eventually, is not a now.”

“Be patient, mo grá. She’ll come around. You have a way of getting to people.”

“I do?”

“You did with me. It was very shocking how fast you managed to wedge yourself in my life.”

“Yeah. Then you tried to get rid of me.”

“Strong words! It was more like...give you a nudge elsewhere.”

He raised an eyebrow, making her giggle. “Fine. Maybe I was getting rid of you. But I had very good reasoning for it.”

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked softly, making her blink in surprise.

“No...it was just...you scared me a little,” she murmured with a small smile. “You still do.”

“Why?”

“You’re...different. From what I’m used to. You’re just...so...open.”

“Is...that a bad thing?”

Curse those eyes, big blue and pleading. It was like he didn’t even notice how he affected her when he looked at her like this.

She brushed his hair back. “You built a window instead of a wall. You wear your heart on your sleeve.”

Tehi watched them, perched on a plate. Lucas reached over and she bit his finger. He let out a curse, shaking his hand as he pulled away, sticking his tongue out at Tehi.

She bit back her laughter. “I can help with those.”

“It’s fine,” he muttered, popping the finger into his mouth.

“Is it bleeding?”

“A little.”

“Lucas.”

“Mm fine. I’ve gotten worse.” Her eyes were drawn to the scar around his neck, and the ones disappearing into the collar of his shirt. They felt familiar, like something she’d seen before. She reached out, brushing one of the scars. The ones that looked like the marking of an animal.

Or the symbols on her walls.

He jolted under her touch, staring at her with wide eyes. She pulled away quickly, not thinking.

“I’m so s-sorry! It’s just…” her brows furrowed. “Those markings feel familiar. I’ve seen them before...not just when my clinic was broken into.” She met his gaze. “What are they from?”

His eyes darted away as she asked, wringing his hands. “Made some...bad choices,” he said gruffly. “It’s nothing.”

She blinked, shifting away. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

He reached over for her hand and hesitated. She bridged the gap and laced their fingers. “You’re fine,” he murmured, sitting up and leaning against her. “Just stuff I don’t want to talk about.”

She hummed, resting her head on his shoulder. “I understand. I won’t ask if you don’t wanna talk.”

He squeezed her hand. “Thank you.”

“It’s the least I could do,” she said with a smile. “Besides, we have bigger fish to fry.” She looked back at her bat. “...and that’s getting dinner.”

He winced. “Does she have to bite me?”

“Apparently.”

Tehi chirped, preening.

He glowered. “She has sharp teeth.”

“I offered to help.”

He slouched against her, knocking her off balance. She let out a small squeak, wrapping her arms around his neck before she fell out of her chair.

He laughed, resting his head against her shoulder.

“Lucas I’m gonna fall!”

“Mmhmm.”

“And take you with me.”

“That’s nice.”

“Get offa me!” She was giggling, bumping her head against his. “You’re too heavy!”

“Mm but if I can’t eat tonight then I guess I’ll just sleep.”

“I can move her, you know.”

“Yes but that’s not gonna stop her from biting me.”

“…or trying to eat your hair.”

He cracked an eye open, wincing. “That too.”

She giggled, kissing the top of his head. “Good news is, she tries to eat everyone’s hair.”

“Is that just...a Tehi thing?”

“Yeah. I think she thinks it’s going to taste any better the more she tries it. Though, watching her chase Malory around was pretty funny.”

“What did he do specifically? You mentioned lying, calling the guards and erm…”

“Murder? Trust me, I have thought about it.”

“I’m aware.”

She flicked the tip of his nose, making him wrinkle it back. “He accused me of stealing. Tehi, well, she’s a bat. No sense of money and trade, only get food to live. I paid for what she took, but he...wasn’t happy about her taking it in the first place. He has the best fruit in the market so her taking things...became a habit.”

He winced. “So he calls the guards on you?”

“Every time he sees me near his booth. Sucks the best fruit in the market has to be sold by an asshole.”

“I could always go grocery shopping for you. If you’d like me to.”

“You...would? For me?”

He nodded, resting his chin on her shoulder. “If he’s the one making you walk all the way to Center City to get fruit, then I’d be happy to go for you.”

She turned and hugged him, burying her face in his neck. “Oh thank the stars. I was close to trying to grow my own fruit. It would have been a disaster. I can barely take care of my medical herbs.”

He let out a small squeak, arms slowly wrapping around her. She made eye contact with Tehi, and if looks could kill.

“You’re a disaster,” he murmured, making her giggle. “Amani grows plants if you ever want to ask her about them. I dunno if she grows any...fruit, but I know she has aloe. I get some of my spices from her.”

“She has plants? That’s amazing!” She brightened at the thought, letting him go. He smelled deliciously sweet, like nutmeg and cinnamon. “...you think she’d teach me how to keep a plant alive?”

He grimaced. “She could barely teach me. I killed a succulent and she quit.”

“I don’t have the time to take care of plants. Or I just don’t balance my time wisely.”

“I um...don’t manage my time well either.”

“...yeah, you workaholic.”

He blushed. “I-I’m not that bad.”

She quirked an eyebrow. “Mmhmm. Working yourself to the point of passing out is not that bad.”

“That was one time.”

“I had to carry you home!”

“You had help!”

“Same thing!”

He snorted, making her giggle. Tehi blinked at them, seeming unimpressed.

And now they were being judged by a bat.

He moved over to grab a strawberry, Tehi chirping at the sight.

“I think we found our way to get her to like you,” she said, leaning against him.

“Food?”

“Always a good choice.”

He prodded her side, making her swat at his hands with a squawk. “Is that how I won you over?” he teased.

She wrestled his hand away from her side, struggling against him trying to poke at her again. “What if it was?” she said, sticking her tongue out at him. “I might just marry your pumpkin squash if I could get to it.”

Tehi chirped as if she liked that idea better.

“Hey! Don’t take her side!” Lucas said, turning to the bat on a plate. “She’s mean, I’m the nice one.”

“Aww, are you mad that she likes me better?” she teased, kissing his cheek. “What? Can’t win the affection of one little bat?”

“She’s not little and you know it.”

She giggled, tapping the tip of his nose. “If it makes you feel any better, my family would love you.”

“They…would?”

“Mmhmm. Especially my father and grandma. Cooking fanatics. I grew up trying new dishes. But…sadly I got my cooking ability from my mom.”

He laughed, a blush warming his cheeks. “I could teach you if you’d like.”

“You’d quit.”

“I would not!”

“Oh please! Most of my dishes either explode or are inedible. You’d quit within two minutes.”

“If we don’t have another great Jolie flour incident I’m sure it’ll be okay.”

“…Lucas, I am the great Jolie flour incident.”

“You can’t be that bad.”

“Try me. I’ve burnt eggs that weren’t cracked.”

“…how did you even do that?”

“Long story.”

“Trouble,” he said, ruffling her hair.

She grinned. “You like it.”

Tehi chirped again, staring at the strawberry he had. He tentatively reached over to give it to her, Tehi snatching it from his fingers and holding it close in her claws. He jumped back, the chair toppling over at the force.

He fell backwards with the chair, making her crack up.

“Did I not warn you she’s protective of her meals?” she asked, looking down at him.

“Apparently.” He winced, rubbing the back of his head. “Not.”

She giggled. “Whoops.”

“Does she do that to people she hates?”

She grabbed a strawberry, handing it to Tehi, watching as the same thing happened. A wicked little smile played across her face as she mimicked what he had done, down to the facial expressions and knocking her chair back.

Her head hit the floor hard, but she was giggling.

He shot her an unimpressed look, fighting his smile. “Gee. Thanks. I feel way better now.”

She looked over at him with a smile, her hair spilling out across the floor. “That was the funniest reaction I’ve seen to her.”

“…thanks.”

She snorted, squishing his face. “Don’t pout.”

“You’re so mean though,” he said, voice muffled due to her squishing his cheeks. “I don’t think I’ll ever get over this slight to my pride.”

She kissed him lightly. “Mmm I’m sure you will.”

He shifted closer to her, wrinkling his nose. “Don’t patronize me.”

She giggled, running her hands through his hair and rubbing her nose against his. “I would never.”

He snorted, kissing her softly. “She really likes strawberries, huh?” he whispered after a moment.

She bit her lip, smiling. “She’s gotten me to like them just as much. Back home we had strawberry plants growing everywhere! Blueberries and blackberries as well. My Mhamó would bake so many pies during the first pick of the harvest. Our fingers would be stained red,” she said with a giggle. “Once Aislin ate so much her mouth was stained for a week. Someone thought she ate a person! Devoured them right off the bone!”

He snorted. “Are they your favourites?”

“Well…” she pursed her lips, thinking. “Have you ever had the first strawberry of the year? Ripe and sweet? I could eat them for hours and not tire...so...I guess they are. Tehi loved them from the get-go and I always carry some around.”

“Is that why you always taste like strawberries?”

She blushed, blinking. The question was innocent, she bit her lip and giggled again. He brushed her hair back, thumb running against her skin. “I um...guess so! But I don’t hear you complaining,” she said, nuzzling his cheek.

He shifted his face to capture her lips, burying his hands in her hair. “I think I like them better this way,” he said with a soft smile, nose brushing against hers as he kissed her again.

“We should get back up,” she murmured, being cut off by him kissing her again. “Lucas.”

“But if we don’t get up Tehi won’t keep hissing at me.”

“But squash.” She pouted, thinking about it. “I’m serious about marrying it.”

“How about you marry me instead, then you’d get all the squash you’d want.”

She snorted, kissing the tip of his nose. “Want me to have an affair with your cooking? It’s very tempting, I must say.”

He laughed, resting his forehead against hers. “Well? What do you say?”

She giggled, tugging at his hair. “Let me think about it.”

“Don’t take too long.”

“Oh yes because I’m the one asking you. What? Many people flocking to your door? Struggle tying you down?” she joked, kissing his cheek. “I’ll have to have more before making my decision.”

“If you can get around Tehi, that is.”

“I can get around her. She loves me. You on the other hand...”

He sulked. “Don’t remind me.”

She giggled, rising to her feet and picking up her chair. “Need help?”

“View is nice from here.”

She raised an eyebrow, squatting down next to him. “I’ll sic Tehi on you.”

“...you wouldn’t.”

“It’ll get her away from the squash.”

Damn, the puppy dog eyes. “You wouldn’t.”

“Don’t give me that look.”

He kept at it, she groaned, burying her face in her hands. “Fine! I wouldn’t. But you should get up at least.”

He sighed. “If I keep feeding her will she like me?”

“It’s how you got me to marry you.”

He snorted, getting off the chair and putting it back up. “Well I guess it’s not all bad then, huh?”

“Make a fruit pie and she might love you forever.”

“...she can eat those?”

“She sure damn tries. My dad tried making one and she had eaten most of it by the time we finished dinner. He was so mad he tried to ban her from the house.”

He laughed as she sat down, reaching over Tehi (and giving her a pat) to pile more squash onto her plate. She let out a happy hum, biting into it. “Mmm alright maybe I will marry you,” she said, cracking an eye open to look at him.

He plucked a cinnamon apple ring, dramatically holding it out for her. He raised his voice an octave. “Maeve O’Connor, will you do me the honour of marrying me?”

She snorted, laughing. Her cheeks warmed, she knew it was fake. He was joking. But it was nice. He was looking at her with a soft affection, like he actually meant it.

But he couldn’t have. He didn’t even love her.

“And then have an affair with your cooking?” she joked, pushing down her feelings. He was just flirting.

He slipped the dessert on her finger, kissing her knuckles with a wink. “If it gets you to say yes.”

She giggled, staring at the treat on her hand. She bit into it, smiling at the familiar taste.

He gasped in offense. “Maeve, that's your engagement ring!”

“It’s delicious.”

“I worked hard to earn the money to get that! I spent weeks working up the courage to ask and you eat it?!”

“But it’s good!”

He kissed her once, then twice. “You are going to make me work every damn day of my life, eating my hard earned money like that.”

She smiled, tilting her head up to kiss his chin. “Mmmhmm. But you asked me.”

He only shook his head, stealing food from her plate.

“Hey!” she yelped, reaching for the fork. He held it just out of her reach, teasing her.

“Aww can’t reach?” he said, kissing the tip of her nose.

“Curse these short limbs,” she replied, crawling into his lap. He blinked as she wrestled his hand, tugging the fork back down to her. She bit the squash off the end, grinning smugly.

He flicked the tip of her nose. “That was mine.”

“No you stole it from me. I’m not gonna marry a thief.”

“But Tehi won’t let me get any more!”

“I can get it for you!”

“No! You’re just gonna eat it all!”

She pursed her lips. “That’s true.”

“And you think I’m a thief.”

“You stole it from my plate!”

“You don’t have any evidence.”

“I watched you! And don’t repeat my shitty logic back to me!”

He laughed, ruffling her hair. “Can I at least have a bite of your engagement ring?”

She gasped, clutching her hand close to her chest. “Never. It is my engagement ring. I can eat it if I wish!”

“But I gave it to you!”

She made a face at him. “But it’s mine now!”

He made a move for her hand, she pressed her hand against his cheek, holding her other hand above her head. “No!”

“But Maeve!”

“No!” She was giggling so hard her ribs hurt.

There was a flutter, and the makeshift ring was snatched off her finger.

Tehi chirped, perched on a nearby bookshelf with the apple ring.

She and Lucas stared for a moment before cracking up. “Looks like neither of us got it,” he said.

“And it looks like someone objects to this marriage.”

He tilted her chin, smiling softly. “She’ll have to try harder than that to stop it.”

She blushed at the sincerity of his words as he kissed her. For a moment she thought he was serious about it. He’s really gotta stop that, messing with her heart and head like that.

“So...a bat huh?” he started, looking back at Tehi. “Like animals?”

She smiled, trying to fight her blush away. “Yeah. Tehi was an unexpected twist during a hide and seek game, but I grew up loving animals. My older sister has two dogs now.”

“Oh?” “Yeah! They’re very sweet girls, energetic as well. I dunno how she deals with him all the time. She’s written to me many times about how much they get into the baby food back home. She and her fiancée have four kids, one is a wee baby. Cutest little thing.”

“Do you like dogs?”

“Depending on the dog, but yes.”

“Depending on the dog?”

“I’m uh…” she flushed. “Scaredofbigdogs.”

His brows furrowed as he mouthed her word jumble back. “Scared? Why? They’re babies! Big sweethearts!”

She scratched the back of her head. “Well um...I got attacked by wolves when I was a teen. Kinda puts a damper on the whole...big dog thing.”

“...well. That’s a good reason.”

“Oh wow thank you for your approval, oh mighty big dog master.”

“Hey, they get a bad rep. Big dogs are amazing. They just get labeled as dangerous because they’re big.”

“Oh, so like you?”

He let out a choked noise, blushing furiously. “Well I-I mean...y-yeah?”

She smiled, brushing his hair back. “Hmm...I guess you’re okay.”

“Thanks. My fiancée is so loving.”

“Only for you.”

He rolled his eyes with a smile, chasing her for a kiss. She giggled, cupping his face in her hands.

“I’d like you even if you were a big dog,” she murmured, kissing the tip of his nose.

His cheeks reddened as he chuckled. “I’d like you even if you were a small dog.”

“Hey!”

“Thumbelina, you couldn’t be big in any form.”

She sulked. “You don’t have to say it though.”

He smiled, kissing her fingertips. “It’s true.”

“Hmph.”

He squished her face, rubbing his nose against hers. “Don’t pout.”

“I’ll pout if I wanna,” she sniffed, making him smile. “I’m small but I pack a punch.”

He winced. “I’m aware. I think you broke my nose.”

She giggled, biting his fingertip. He yelped softly, pulling away. She grinned at his glare, him holding his hand close. “Don’t be a baby. It was a love tap.”

He muttered to himself, looking at his hand. She left a small indent. “I felt no love in that tap.”

“You didn’t look hard enough.”

He snorted, resting his hands on her thighs. “Yeah let me rethink about you kicking me in the nose lovingly. That’s for sure what I felt.”

“In my defense, you insulted my honour twice. If you won’t defend me, who will?”

He tapped his fingers, making her squirm. “I learned my lesson. Next time I’ll win.”

“Mmm next time huh?” She giggled, throwing her hair off her shoulder. “Want a rematch?”

“Absolutely. This time I know your secrets.”

“Someone’s a sore loser,” she teased, flicking the tip of his nose. “And you only know some of my secrets. I am a mysterious woman, you may not know all of my secrets! I’ll kick your ass every time.”

He kissed her softly, holding her hands and lacing their fingers. “We’ll see.”

“Oh I know it.” He rolled his eyes, making her smile. She looked at their clasped hands, hints of cinnamon sugar still dotting her ring finger. He raised her hand, kissing the sugar away.

“Hey, that's hints of my long lost engagement ring!”

He smiled, kissing her inner wrist. “You were right about it being delicious.”

She rolled her eyes, fighting back her smile as she slowly climbed to her feet. “I know.” She looked at the food on the table, long forgotten. “I’ll...put things away. Take some home?”

He kissed her palm, letting her hand go. “You can keep the squash. I think it’ll get eaten.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “I have enough food at home, and you need it more than I do.”

“I don’t need it.”

“When was the last time you ate?”

“...yesterday.”

He raised an eyebrow, she blushed.

“...morning…”

“Exactly. And I get lectured.”

“Well, you had time to eat, I didn’t.”

He rolled his eyes. “Potato patato. Take it, and please eat. Who will kick my ass if you’re too tired?”

“Amani.”

“...touché.”

She giggled, picking up the plates. “If you want to keep trying to win Tehi’s affection, I’ll leave the fruit bowl out. I’ll pack some of the apple rings for you.”

“Okay.”

She hummed, wrapping the squash and apple rings up in a cloth, looking over her shoulder to see Lucas making kissy noises at Tehi, holding a strawberry out for her. She hissed when he moved close, stopping when she saw the gift.

Maeve giggled, placing the plates in the sink.

“...is this yours?” he asked after a moment.

She looked up, moving closer to where he was pointing. It was a sketch, one of many she had scattered about. Her brows softened as she looked at it. “Yeah. It’s of my home.”

“It’s beautiful, I didn’t know you drew.”

“I usually paint, but sketching is nice. My aunt taught me how, since drawing is a good skill to have with magic.”

His eyebrows shot up to his hairline, watching her with soft eyes. “Magic?”

“Yes! Like sigils! Those can be used in different ways, drawing helps guide it. I have a sigil on my neck at the base of my skull…” she lifted her hair up, showing the three swirls. Mind-body-soul, as her sister said. It was her first, a stick and poke they did on a whim. “It helps amplify the magic I want to use, it can’t amplify raw magic, that comes from you but…” she blushed. “Sorry, I’m rambling.”

He blinked, smiling. “No no! It’s interesting, tattoos are a way to transfer magic?”

“They’re a way...to channel it. To draw from you and your surroundings. Tattoos are more permanent versions of sigils, but they are some of the most powerful.”

“I think I have one of those.”

She lit up, bouncing on her toes. “Really?” He nodded, cheeks reddening. “Where is it? Can I see? What does it do? What are the side effects?”

The look he gave her was startled, she blushed, rocking back onto her heels. “I um...sorry. I just...love this type of magic.” She laughed nervously, rubbing the back of her neck. “Most people don’t do tattoos with it, since they are permanent. I could...ask slowly?”

“O-Okay!”

“Where...is it?”

“On my back. Between my shoulder blades.”

She furrowed her brows, wrapping her arms around him, prodding at his spine between his shoulders. “Here?”

He nodded, staring at her wide eyed and blushing. “Y-Yep!” he squeaked out, making her giggle.

“What does it do? Magic wise, I mean.”

His brows creased, overshadowing his eyes. “I...don’t know exactly. I think it makes me...stronger? When I want to be. It helps with...healing and I have a higher pain tolerance.”

“So a strength sigil? It would...feed on your strength you have and help aid you when you tap into it. The pain tolerance and healing could be a meaning behind some of the symbols, but I’d have to study those.”

He smiled, laughing. “If you wanted me to take my shirt off you could’ve asked.”

She blinked, going over the implications before blushing. “I um! I didn’t mean it that way! S-Sorry it just-”

He kissed the tip of her nose. “You're fine, I’m teasing.”

She grumbled, wrapping her arms around him as she stood on her tiptoes. “I wouldn’t mind it either.”

He blushed, making her bite her lip as she smiled.

“I have been studying sigils for a while now. I just made another breakthrough with some! Currently looking into light sigils due to how easy they are…”

“May I see?”

Her lips parted in surprise, eyes widening. “Y-You’d want to see it?”

“Of course I do! It’s something you get excited about, even if I might not understand it...why wouldn’t I?”

“Not um...everyone likes to listen to me ramble.” She giggled, nervous. “It’s fine! I tend to be long winded.”

He kissed her softly. “I think it’s cute, I like seeing you talk about it. I’d be happy to listen.”

She kissed him back, harder. She knocked him off balance as she pushed herself off the ground. His hands hovered over her waist for a moment before he bundled her close.

“I’ll show you,” she murmured, letting go of him. He set her down, letting her take his hand and guide him to her room. “My room is a mess because of it, I must warn you.”

He laughed. “I’ve seen a messy room before.”

“Yeah. Yours,” she teased, winking as she nudged her door open. Tehi followed them, chirping as she fluttered up to a small bookshelf cluttered with small trinkets. Tehi snuggled close to the dog Lucas had given her, so many weeks ago. He stared at the bat and the wooden dog, his smile growing giddy.

“You still have it!”

She looked over, smiling. “Of course I do, why wouldn’t I?”

He wouldn’t meet her eyes with a bashful smile. “I didn’t think you’d keep it.”

She squeezed his hand. “It was a gift.”

He looked at her with a soft smile, letting her guide him to sit on the floor. She gathered the pages on the floor, lips twisting as she looked at the symbols. “Do you want to draw your own?” she asked, half bent over, looking over her shoulder.

“Draw my own?”

“I can show you, if you’d like.”

“Alright.”

She smiled, face warming. Her freckles on her arms started to glow brighter as she scooped up blank paper. He held out a hand for her, helping her sit, nestled in the crook of his side.

“I’d like to see your tattoo eventually,” she said, laying out the papers. “If you’d let me.”

He kissed her cheek. “Sure, I’d be happy to have a magic expert analyze it.”

“I’m no expert. You’d be better off seeing the magician in Center City.”

“I’d rather have you.”

“I’m touched.” She reached over his lap for her pens, chewing on her lower lip as she looked at the blank sheets of paper.

“What’s first, oh mighty powerful witch?”

She giggled, handing him a pen and scooting a paper over. “Drawing the sigil. Here’s the light one I’ve been using.” She showed him the page, a line curving down and another tucked in it. Three lines connected the swirling ones. “These symbolize balance. Balance with light, no light can exist without shadow and shadow cannot exist without light.”

He traced the three lines connected the swirled. “And these symbolize the bond between the balance?”

She grinned, clapping her hands. “Yes! Exactly!” She leaned into him, holding her pen. “Sigils are all about the idea and magic you’re trying to put out there. What you want to happen, putting that want into the drawing and the magic in the air, activating it with the same.”

He watched her draw the sigil, copying her movements. “And how do you activate it?”

“Some are powerful enough to use a look, or a connection. I usually use my hands. Your hands are powerful.” He finished drawing the sigil, letting her take his hand and hold his palm open. She traced the lines, like she had some time ago. “Remember your palm reading?”

“Yeah.”

“Lines hold meaning. Heart, sun, fate, head, life. Magic flows through your hands. Hands are the start and the finish of magic, the connection between you and the earth. Am I making sense?”

“Kind of.”

“Think of it...like a connection. Magic from your hands seeps into the thing you’re trying to activate, a sigil in this example. Your hands are...an anchor.”

“Oh…” he whispered, looking at his hands. Peering at them with critical eyes. “That makes sense.”

“And now that you’ve drawn the sigil with the intent for light, you anchor and channel that magic into your want for light.”

“How?”

“I can show you.” She got to her feet, blowing out the candles. Tehi chirped, bouncing on the shelf as she watched them.

She reached out blindly, letting him take hold of her hand again and lead her back. Sitting back down, she placed her hands on her sigil.

“Palm against the drawing,” she murmured, trying not to break the fragile air of intimacy hanging around them. “Think of light and the sigil will answer. Think…a fire. A candle. The sun on your face.”

“You?”

She stiffened, blushing. “I-I guess s-so,” she squeaked, making him chuckle. She watched him place his hand on the sloppily drawn sigil.

She chewed on her lip, trying to hide her giddy smile. His eyes fluttered shut, leaning against her. She leaned back, breathing in and letting it out with the idea of light.

Her sigil folded, and started to glow. She smiled, satisfied, before turning to look at him. His face was set in concentration, the room was quiet, their breathing soft.

Slowly, the sigil folded, glowing brightly. She cheered, the sound startling him into opening his eyes. He paused when he saw the ball of light at his palms.

“I did that?” he asked, eyes growing wide.

She grinned, tackling him in a hug and kissing him fiercely. He laughed against her mouth, cradling her head in his hands. “You did!” she said, glowing brightly.

“What else can you do?” he asked, staring at the two lights. When he looked back at her his excitement was infectious, making her bounce.

“Ice, earth and I once made a gust of spring air appear in the middle of winter! Plants didn’t work out well, but we can work on it! Imagine what we could do!”

“We?”

She blushed at her mistake. “I-If you want to. T-That is.”

“You’d let me help?”

She nodded, biting her lip. She wasn’t meeting his eyes, in her excitement she thought he’d...like to.

But he wouldn’t. Why would he?

He grinned, tilting her head back to look at him. Her thoughts evaporated. “I’d be honoured to help. If you’d have me. That is.”

“Hey I offered don’t get insecure on me now.”

He laughed, kissing her softly, sitting back up with her in his lap. She giggled against his mouth, burying her hands in his hair.

“Okay,” he murmured.

“Okay!”

They stared at one another for a moment before giggling again.

“I did magic,” he murmured, staring at the light floating by her shoulder. “I made that, right?”

“Your magic. I didn’t do anything.”

His grin was quick to creep across his face, as he reached out to hold the light. She cupped hers in her hand, blowing it into his face softly. He sneezed as it exploded in a bunch of tiny lights, floating around his hair like a halo.

Tehi chirped again, chasing a few of the lights.

Smiling, she brushed his hair back and scattered the glitter that sat there.

He blew his into her face, making her giggle as it exploded across her cheeks. “Oh look. More glowing lights to add to your already glowing face,” he teased, brushing her cheeks.

She tilted her head to kiss the pad of his thumb, smiling.

“So what’d ya say? Wanna explore magic with me?”

He tilted her face up, kissing her with such affection it made her heart skip a beat.

There was a softness to his gaze when he pulled away, his brows set in content and his lips upturned in a gentle smile. A tender look settled into his eyes as he kissed the top of her head.

“I’d love to.”

#the arcana #the arcana game #maeve #lucas #maeve x lucas #maevas #my writing #DONT TALK TO ME IM YEARNING #these two are the kinds of people to joke about gettin married before even saying I love you #love and hate that for them #bc I gotta WRITE THIS BS #and then MAEVE #AUGH #calm before the storm lmao #fluff #soft nerds #in love #OKAY IM POSTING THIS BEFORE I OVER THINK THINGS AGAIN

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icharchivist · 3 years

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hello icha!!!!! learned from my mistakes and typed this out in a separate document. first i have to say im feeling a very deep connection with citron as of late bc i was giving myself a pep talk abt like physics and i told myself "face up and man the music!" and was like "...is that wrong. theres that song called man against the music isnt there... yeah it must be right" and. well i realized later. i also think the phrase "dont cry because it happened, smile because its over" is very good. also I’m halfway thru creating a very eclectic list of like. a Pokémon team for each a3 character which is… something. kinda knew it would happen to me. might take a while for me to finish it tho now that I’m halfway bc I’m suddenly having a crisis like “wait shit I’m only confident on my understanding and characterizing of like 4 characters am I good enough” so… it’s slow going lol. anyways. i finished that damn physics thing I was giving myself a pep talk about and so am treating myself to autumn/winter. happens that watching these events is also like. the only thing which reminds me to actually like. log into a3 lol. i am so bad at gacha games. probably a good thing in the long run. ok starting from the top!

hisoka going "zzz" as his reaction made me immediately go... oh dear, please dont fall asleep in the bath and guess what happened. yeah. good thing homare was there lol. speaking of i fucking adore homare and his poetry. id buy his collection. i also wish there was a collection like if there was a master list of every poem he says in like. at the very least main story. if not i will literally do it myself. i love homare so much im like him in that back when i had to play dodgeball id always be like kufufufu they cant hit me if im friendless enough that no one pays attention to me but like in my case it actually worked out. on the subject of the pillow fight tho, hisoka's crazy strong pillow fight throw... one more mark on the list for suspicious, maybe assassin occupation. this event made me realize how much i missed winter like. i saw the stranger pretty recently (which has caused the effect of be being like "taichi!! thats my boy!!" in my head everytime he shows up lol but anyways i havent gotten to a winter play yet so im VERY hype. especially bc this seems like it stars hisoka and homare??? like oh!! oh!!!! also detective fiction... im swooning. i also just enjoy the hisoka homare dynamic a whole fucking lot i think its nice how homare was like "yeah im ride or die for this funky lil amnesiac, why wouldnt you be?" and its just like. nice. feel like hes always reaching out to hisoka which is like. man homare is so nice.

back to chronology. ofc sakyo goes cheap for the hot springs lol. on brand as ever. was very hype for the azuma sakyo dynamic bc all i remember is like azuma trashing everyone including sakyo at some game or the other in one of the winter chapters and it was very good. or was this a clip in like a stage play? either way it was delightful. at first i misinterpreted taichi going "…" after azuma and sakyo said theyd never been on a field trip bc like. taichi being quiet or noncommunicative... after going thru autumn troupe act 1 it makes me fear for my life a little lol. anyways im glad he was just like planning fun times. speaking of taichi tho we got a tasuku taichi pair for etudes!!!! im not spoiling myself for later events but i hope to GOD tasuku and taichi do like a lead co lead in SOMETHING or at least like some mixed troupe event i want them to talk!!!

also dunno if this is an intentional pun but i enjoy that its called high spirits at the hot spring bc like oh theyre having fun but also bc like. "spirits" is used to refer to a certain type of alcohol i think? which is cool. dunno if its intentional but i liked that. anyways the talent show. taichis moving rendition of single ladies... ok i know it said single fellas but like. we know. wonder if that line was a different song in japanese? its not too old at ALL tho imo. anyways the way banri and juza being themselves Are the entertainment... flashback to when banri slaps juza live on stage instead of doing a stage slap lol. my reaction to azuma essentially went:

azuma: I can offer to bare my soul, and a little more ;)

izumi: what do u mean by that???

me: hey tasuku and omi were shirtless what's ur problem with azuma

anyways i reread and from what i understand they were maybe only flexing and doing a gun show? which like. no wonder it didnt last too long then lol. also explains why they didnt have shirtless sprites i suppose lmao. i am SO curious abt what azuma ended up doing tho that fade to black is so mysterious! did he tap dance? did he pole dance? the world will never know...

oh also im not like super familiar with azuma yet but my read on his personality is definitely like "I am so touch starved All The Time but I will be chill. :) :) this is fine :)" like he just seems to rly like being around people! just like basking in presence whether or not hes rly talking that much.

i enjoyed that juza mentioned pillow fighting with his lil brother... thats nice! i think a lot of this event was just focused on ppl having fun over the drama lol bc it got wrapped up sooo quick. i liked the bit where sakyos worried that izumi was out late searching for him tho it was so sweet. table tennis match was very fun although id argue calling hisoka and juza the two quietest tho lol like... banri exists so juza isnt quiet. just like inevitably. finally, the event cg!!! azumas hair tied up... so nice! thats how I tie my hair up sometimes tho it doesnt look nearly as nice lol. taichi rambling abt his first love for so long tho... lol. ill be honest i have to reread autumn bc i was not aware of this whole situation until it came up in the stranger and i like inferred from there. the end of this event was nice! it was cute. i dont rly have much thoughts on it but im so hype for the winter play

Hello:!!! so good to see you again, freshly learning from your mistakes then :3c

the connection with Citron is a BLAST to read about. I am glad that Citron is there, on your mind, supporting you at every turns of language. It's beautiful.

AND OH THE POKEMON LIST!!! thrilled to hear about it being a wip ongoing! take your time ofc and i hope you'll feel more confident as you go for your characters interpretation! i believe in you!

lmao i'm glad the events help you remember to play a3, i'm sure that by the time you'll be done with the events you will have unlocked so much of act 2 you won't have to worry too much about it. Anyway i'm glad you treat yourself to good things :3c

of course Hisoka fell asleep in the bath. tbh this event was a lot of "Hisoka almost dies in a spring house multiple times if it wasn't for his troupesmates". Between sleeping in the bath and almost swallowing the table tenis ball... where would we be without Winter, and especially Homare, taking care fo him.

I'm SO GLAD you like Homare that much! he's so so good! i'm sure there must be a masterlist somewhere, or well. can be done anytime i guess?? but yeah Homare is fantastic and LDJFDLKFJDF the evil plan to avoid dodgeball from both of you.. this is incredible DLKJFDLKF. But yeah alas he's loved by his own so he gets hit smh.

And yeah Hisoka is just acting sus huh.

BUT YEAH... YEAH... WINTER... BELOVED.... I feel regular and normal feelings for Winter as you know, s o .

(i'm so delighted that you feel that way about Taichi though, as he deserves!! what a good boy!!!)

But yeah Winter play next!!!!! i love the winter plays so much i hope you'll like it as well!! aND YEAH HISOKA AND HOMARE AS A DUO... for a DETECTIVE story?? so good.

I'm sO GLAD you like their dynamic! yeah i adore it too. Homare was so quick to leap into taking care of Hisoka? Like i mean he immediatly called him sleeping beauty when they first met, and immediately decided to be his roommates to watch over him, and then he did everything to take care of him and it's just so sweet. Homare has such a big heart he's so gentle with Hisoka. Homey and comfortable, whenever Hisoka admits it or not ahah.

ahah wouldn't be Sakyo if he didn't need to stay cheap. BUT YEAH the Sakyo/Azuma dynamic is pretty good. oh the event you talk about i think is in some of his very first backstage storyes (that you can read if you have them since they're at this point of the chronology). There's one where they play a mafia game and Sakyo is warry of Azuma because "people like him are those you need to worry about the most" and Azuma is just ":) you wound me :) i would never :)" and then Azuma wins the game and starts to mess with everyone. It was so fun. and yeah i see which clip you mean for the stage play!! it's so so fun they have such a neat dynamic and i loved to see it in this event as well.

and omg worrying about Taichi while he was just there preparing a fun time! this child really would have worried us all back then huh

but AHH YEAH TASUKU TAICHI.... It's such a neat dynamic! ofc i won't say anything but man i love the potential of their stories, as the two ex Godza boys. To see them bond and be comfortable with each other always make me so soft.

OH NICE CATCH FOR THE PUN! i think it must be the reason for it tbh, i love it! thanks for pointing it out!

The talent show was really fun yeah ahah! I wonder what it is in Japanese too but at least the localization was hella fun!

"anyways the way banri and juza being themselves Are the entertainment." THEY'RE SO SILLY I love them so much

AND LMAO YOUR REACTION AT AZUMA I LOVE IT. YEah i think Tasuku and Omi are just flexing (which is Still. SO FUNNY. Just there saying "our talents is.. our muscles...") meanwhile Azuma is like "my talent is that i'm crazy hot :)"

But YEAH Azuma... AZUMA WHAT DID YOU DO....

your read on Azuma's personality feels pretty spot on to me ahah omg. Staying with what you know about him, the fact that with his job and all, he seems like he's starving for connection while also terrified to make himself emotionally vulnerable. He loves staying with people, listening to them, caring for them, and he's touch starved as hell (i mean it's his job) but he doesn't seem to really know how to be on the receiving hand of affection. there's a flair talk, i can't remember where, with Omi at some point, where Azuma compliments him, and Omi is just "mhm.. but you know i think that it's more about you" and ends up complimenting Azuma in depth and it let Azuma dumbfounded because he didn't expect Omi to trick him at his own game, while Omi just genuinely don't get why Azuma is reacting that way. He gives he gives he gives, and he's genuinely happy with that, but he seems to have difficulties to take, or to demand for something, while also starving for it. I have so many emotions for Azuma.

Any mentions of Juza's little bro are the best things. I love this type of mention TwT

And yeah it was such a laid back event. Honestly deserved after the crying fest that was The Stranger imo. It's good to relax once in a while and it was nice to have them have fun. There was the bitterness of both Azuma and Sakyo's past that was always a bit looming but everyone was working so hard for them to enjoy themselves that the joy just overtake any sadness i loved it.

Sakyo worrying about Izumi is always adorable TwT

And yeah the Table Tennis match was so fun and chaotic LMAO. I love the dynamic between Juza and Hisoka. Just two usually quiet boys who like sweets. Except that yeah like you say, as long as Banri is around, Juza cannot be 100% quiet. Rip.

THE CG WAS SO PRETTY i loved seeing it. And omg you can share your hairtips with Azuma how nice :D Azuma manages to make everything look beautiful smh....

Oh yeah Taichi and his first love! if i recall he mentions it quickly at the begining, that Yuki reminds him of his first love, and he says that again at some point - then the fake Portrait he does he mentions his first love again. And since then it's been a reccuring topic so yeh :3c

but yeah! this event was really sweet and laid back, not much to say about it, but it was nice to have it at all!

Hope you'll like the winter play :3c

Take care and thank you again for your thoughts <33 i love reading them!! bless you!!

#ichafantalks a3 #sonnets of beauty #ichareply

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