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#woman? check. muscles? check. demon? check.
fyeahnix · 9 months
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I wanna play BG3 so fucking bad because I've seen Karlach and I need to eat her for fucking dinner. GOD DAMN
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kneelingshadowsalome · 10 months
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König masterlist
Minotaur!König x Ariadne!Reader {Mythical AU, dubcon smut, 18+}
There’s nothing but ripped shreds of skin where the eyes should be, and instead of looking at you from the sides, they’re greeting you from the front. The horns are sturdy, but otherwise, the colossal head is a bit skewed... Thick patches of fur sticking out as if it was years and years old, and then – you realize it’s not his head; it’s only an illusion. There’s a man under there. A full, grown man who’s made himself a terrible helmet out of a bull’s carcass. 
Part 1 | Part 2
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Christian Woman {Romance, fluff, smut, 18+}
König x Nun!Reader | This man could be your brother, you tell yourself. He could be a long-distance cousin. There’s nothing fishy going on around here, and he’s just visiting. You miss a few midday prayers, and once, your chores, and the relationship turns out to be far from platonic. König can’t even keep his eyes in check. 
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
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Possession {Dark fic, angst, smut, 18+}
König x Maid!Reader | Poor thing doesn’t know that he may be rich and powerful and strong, but he’s not kind. He’s not considerate, and he’s not perfect. He’s her worst nightmare, he's everything a woman would despise. 
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FATUM NOS IUNGEBIT {Historical AU. Roman Auxilia soldier!König with his spoils of war gf. Slow burn, romance, fluff, eventual smut, 18+}
König x F!Reader | The soldiers behind him shift with lust – their gear clinks as they devour you with unbridled hunger. The Titan is the only one who looks at you like you’re simply a cute little squirrel who happened to fall from a tree right there at his feet. Then his eyes drop to your breasts, and the familiar hunger that lives in men gives the ocean of his eyes a clouded look. When his stare finds yours again, he's a different man: the treacherous beast of your dreams.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
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Valkyrie {Dubcon, smut, flangst, romance, 18+}
Virgin!König x F!OC | The situation had indeed taken a turn into a sick fairytale. Like, come on. Valkyrie and König? Some stupid hippie would've loved that: how it was meant to be, destined, even, that the two of them had met. That she was a damsel in distress, and he was here to save her from the ring of fire.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
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Just Friends {Dark romance, smut, violence, heavy angst, 18+ WARNING: Not safe or sane}
König x F!Reader | She's far too kind, that's what people always say, but she's also neck-deep into this goddamn creep at this point to do anything about it. The building is full of muscled men, men who are decent, and she chooses this… gift-bearing perv to crush on. In her judgment system, she's basically asking for it at this point.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
Even Demons are Lonely {Angst, pining, König POV, yandere, 18+} He comes back after a mission {Fluff, mild smut, angst, yandere, 18+} Just Friends playlist (by @evil-squint-etc) Art for Just Friends by @shizukaay0
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comradekatara · 11 days
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Genuinely asking—what changes would you make to the adult gaang designs? :)
this is such a fun question thank u for enabling me. i mean i draw them as adults sometimes so also check out my /oldergaang tag if u want visuals (altho i also change my designs a lot because my art is nothing if not inconsistent) but if i was just going with like standard character designs like if i could redesign that hideous “old friends” poster for example…
aang: get rid of that fucking. chinstrap. don’t give him white man features because what the hell is that. and let him wear his off the shoulder monk robes from book 3 because he was slaying with that fit. actually the way aang is drawn in imbalance is basically perfect i would retain that design into adulthood. thank u peter wartman for all that u do….
katara: i don’t mind the older katara design (from the little we see of it) but it’s also not nearly as cunty and slayful as i would like. katara is genuinely interested in fashion and loves experimenting with clothes and hair and makeup, i refuse to believe that as she ages and has more resources to tailor her style to her own personal tastes she wouldn’t get a little funky with it. like she kind of just looks boring and uninspired in her older design, and that’s unacceptable to me because she should be hot. adult katara should be the hottest woman you have ever seen in your life. and she should be buff, also. shredded, even.
toph: any signifiers of copness are obviously unacceptable to me. but even more that than, it’s very important to me that older toph is distinctly butch. i think she would cut her hair the second she realizes that there is no reconciliation to be found with her parents and that there is no reason to adhere to those confucian values. and she would wear a lot of sleeveless outfits (sort of like the shirt korra wears in “korra alone”) to show off her biceps and also space bracelet (spacelet) that is her prized possession forever. and she’s just kind of a hot hippie butch legend . period.
zuko: in the old friends poster he literally looks like a lizard so just like. no. wtf. and i like his long hair in theory but i don’t like that it’s styled after ozai and not ursa, i think his hair would be shwoopier and frame his face more. and his robes should be less spiky and militaristic and more designed for comfort because that’s what makes him feel most like his true authentic self and he deserves that. also weird for a guy who is trying to demilitarize the fire nation to wear an armor-adjacent type of outfit. so mainly he’d just look softer and more like his mom.
sokka: i hate buff goatee whitewashed sokka that is some kind of demon. lok did so little with him and yet said so much (all of it egregiously wrong, ofc). sokka would be fairly tall (although not as tall as aang) and have defined muscle but in a sinewy, lanky way. and despite always having enough to eat he’d still look somewhat malnourished just because he’s constantly overworked and exhausted and never takes care of himself. and his ponytail would be longer but he’d still shave the sides. and the older he gets the darker his clothes get until he basically just wears black all the time because at some point he realizes that it’s more advantageous to remain culturally ambiguous if he’s gonna be a cosmopolitan. and he wears glasses (which were a gift from kuei). and sometimes he uses a cane because he didn’t sufficiently take care of his broken leg after the war ended and now he’s paying the price for it. and his cane has a blade inside too, but he rarely ever even pulls out the blade because he can incapacitate someone with just a wooden stick anyway. so he looks like if a nerd was a shadow was about to collapse at any given moment was secretly ruling the entire world. and he’s not in any sort of front-facing position of power whatsoever but he’s actually pulling all the strings from behind the scenes, and it’s exhausting. his eyebags are visible from outer space.
suki: i don’t even think there is a “canon” adult suki character design besides her in her kyoshi warrior armor and makeup but to me casual suki just starts dressing more like sokka. like the loose baggy sleeveless shirts (except in a lighter shade of blue bc kyoshi island colors) and tight pants and boots. it’s a very dykey look already and they’re basically girlfriend twins so their styles would merge even more than it already has within the show itself. like sometimes people think that sokka and suki are siblings because they dress so similarly and give off such a similar vibe and they’re just like “but we’re literally different ethnicities??? and also we are currently making out????”
okay bonus round bc i can’t just neglect them
azula: she cuts her hair really short and as an adult leaves it to shoulder length for the most part because that’s more comfortable for her. like zuko, she also starts dressing for comfort, and for a period in her late teens stops wearing makeup altogether. she gets back into wearing makeup as an adult, but she stops caring about whether or not she leaves the house with lipstick on, and it becomes more about the process for her than the result. she’s comfy and cute and dykey.
mai: sokka is her lesbian style icon so after her first haircut that was inspired by toph’s haircut to piss off her parents, she gets an undercut and starts wearing her hair in a ponytail like sokka. as she gets older she also gets more confident in her body and doesn’t feel like she needs to wear baggy long-sleeved clothing at all times or she’ll die. and she isn’t rail thin as an adult either because she starts letting herself eat more than a single grain of rice at a time. also, she gets a sword.
ty lee: she becomes a kyoshi warrior so she starts incorporating more blues and greens into her wardrobe, but also more oranges and yellows after she embraces her air nomad heritage. and she just dresses very colorfully and has a vast rotation of different cute little outfits. and i think she’d also experiment with different hairstyles once she has the freedom to define herself outside of the aesthetics expected of her. she looks beautiful always
haru: he finally shaves that thang
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justaaveragereader · 8 months
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Devil In Disguise
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Pairing: Choi San x Reader
Word Count: 4.7k
Genre: Smut, Dom!Reader x Sub!Choi San
Warnings⛔️: Unprotected Sex (Don’t Do That), Cream Pie, Choking, Oral (Receiving), Infidelity, Sub!San, Dom!Reader, ManEater Reader, Rough Sex, Degrading, Spanking, Pussy Whipped San, Manipulation, Now If I Missed Anything, Let Me Know👀😚!
NSFW & Warnings Under Cut - Minors DNI!!!🔞
😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈
You made men and women fall to your feet. Face of an angel, truly. Some think you floated down from heaven. To pure be dating Jung Wooyoung.
You were sitting on Wooyoungs lap as he laughed at another one of Jonghos jokes, the bass from the music slightly annoying you. Your arm thrown around the back of his neck playing with the hairs on the end of his hairline while letting your eyes shift around the room taking in your surroundings.
Wooyoungs hands dangerously drifted down to your thigh, giving it a tight squeeze causing you to slightly wince. Just as you were about to give Wooyoung a piece of your mind, everyone started to hoot and holler. The man of the hour finally entered the room, going on a alcohol run before he was even able to be at the party.
“San-Ah!” Yeosang shouted, excited to see the extra additions of alcohol more than he was to see San.
He was gorgeous, broad shoulders, pink pretty plush lips, a smile that could make a woman drop to her knees. A successful career, he was the full package. Everyone wanted a man like Choi San. You wanted a man like Choi San.
Placing the additional alcohol on a small table near the kitchen, you watch the way his arms flex as he lifts the bags. Muscles just bulging. You are smooth in the way you shift your gaze around, making sure not to spend too long ogling at the man. Your fingers continue to play in Wooyoungs hair. Your gaze shifts over to his other friends. Jeong Yunho, tall and handsome, big doe eyes, and you are sure he’s big somewhere else. You’ve caught him a couple times checking you out but he’s never seemed to notice the lingering gaze you’d have on him. Then there is Choi Jongho, strong strapping Choi Jongho, hands and thighs that could make a woman cry. You had seen him smush a melon in half with his bare hands. You wanted to suck the melon juice off of his fingers but you never teetered that line.
Kim Hongjoong, while he was quite mysterious he was always busy, you never knew much about him besides he worked hard as a producer, he was subtle with his sex appeal but he still had some, a sex appeal you always wanted to explore. Then came the groups oldest, Park Seonghwa, innocent by day, demon by night, you and Wooyoung let him stay at your apartment for the weekend one time, his eyes shifted and shaded you so often. When Woo would leave you’d put extra sway in your hips so you could feel his stare on you. Still believing that you were too “innocent”, to “naive” to be with a man like Jung Wooyoung. If only they knew…
Then you had Kang Yeosang, you could feel his gaze on you when you were alone. You loved to lock eyes with him, it was like a game of domination, waiting to see who would break eye contact first, ten out of ten it was always him who broke it. He’d get so tense, so flustered at your gaze. It was a victory to know you had Wooyoungs best friend in a permanent state of being flustered. Last but not least you had Song Mingi, you were convinced life blessed him with that height and body to make up for the dominance he lacked in the bedroom, once while alone, in a tipsy state he hit on you, not expecting you to meet his gaze and to make him fold faster than you could fold a piece of paper, behind those bold eyes of his, was just a simple submissive man. What a pity.
You always wanted to take a dip into what Choi San would be like, his soft dimpled smile, his kind gestures. It was hard to believe him and Wooyoung were best friends. You loved Wooyoung but the “being in love” phase was long gone. Looking at it now, you were curious as to if there was ever a “love” phase for him from your end. Your friends called you a maneater and did you love it. You had a face a naive man would trust, your actions always proved otherwise.
Wooyoung loves you, yet you knew he wasn’t in love with you. He didn’t want to leave you, he knew he could do no better. Where would he find arm candy like you? He never caught on to the sexual tension between you and his friends, yea he knew they found you hot, but what he didn’t know is that you lived for their burning stare. One stare in particular, Choi San.
There he was making his way towards the friend group, your nails slightly scraping at the skin on the back of Wooyoungs neck. Big dimpled smile on display, you wanted to ruin him in more ways than one.
“Come sit by me!” Wooyoung squeaked, patting the area on the couch cushion beside him, trying his best to be heard over the loud bass. Dodging his way over people's feet, making sure not to step on anyone he happily takes a seat. Eyes crushed into beautiful crescent moons.
“Hey Y/n! Are you enjoying yourself?” He asks sitting down, two bottles of water, and a bottle of Soju for Wooyoung. You smile back politely, fingers pausing before your hand rakes down Wooyoungs chest reaching out for the other water bottle.
“You always throw a big party! I thought this was supposed to be small?” You speak through a chuckle, looking around at the house full of people, a small get together that turned into a full house. Cracking the cap off the soju Wooyoung guzzles down some of the clear liquid. Hand on your thigh, rubbing small circles in your skin, his eyes boar around the place while you see Sans eyes flicker to the gesture before letting out a small cough and looking around the room.
“It was supposed to be…but someone, I’m not going to name any names, told everyone about it.”
“The more the merrier San-Ah. Learn how to live!”
“It’s my get together yet I was on an alcohol run before it started, how is that possible?”
Wooyoung shrugs his shoulders while letting out a laugh, his hand coming to shove Sans shoulder. You could feel the love between them, between all the members. They truly were a family unit. How nice.
San could feel you staring at him, you were like a temptress. He knew deep down you were no good, yet he wanted you in various ways. He wanted you mentally, physically, emotionally, he wanted you forever.
You gaze was like fire, his skin was nothing but gasoline, you sparked him up every time you were near. Your perfume alone made him rock hard, his hands fiddle with the water bottle. Barely hearing anything that Wooyoung is saying, the soju runs its course through Woo making him more chatty than usual. Clearly getting tipsy he starts antagonizing Jongho, saying he can clearly drink him under the rug.
Letting out a small chuckle you stand up so that Wooyoung can make his way over to Jongho to continue the argument, and to show Jongho that his quote on quote “Hyung can drink him into the grave.” You and San watch the banter that goes on. Letting out a small chuckle you are staring straight but eye him up out of the corner of your eye. A smirk tugging on your lips. A hand coming up to the back of his hairline, running your nails across it, you see him break out into goosebumps. Your cool fingertips beyond enticing to him.
“Mind telling me where the bathroom is Sannie? You know I always forget.”
You can hear him gulp, you both are most likely the most sober at the party. You know where the bathroom is but you loved to play cat and mouse with him.
Nodding his head, he turns his head to throw a glance at the hallway that the bathroom is by. A smile graces your face, teeth on full display for him. You stand up, adjusting your pants just so he can have a show as you walk to Wooyoung to tell him you are going to be back, you are just headed to the restroom. To wrapped up in the drinking game all the members except San is playing, he brushes you off.
You know he’s looking, you can feel his gaze on your ass. Making your way towards the restroom that’s located in Sans room, not the one that’s located in the bathroom. Freshening up a bit, because you know you will be getting laid tonight, it’s just a matter of fact who it will be.
~~~~~
Just as you are going to open the bathroom door you hear sounds of movement on the other. Worried it’s two people fucking in Sans room you try to ease the door open to be surprised by it being San. Alone, in his bedroom, sporting a hard bulge in his pants. He was mouthwatering. With a firm hand he grabs himself, trying to ease some tension. Your eyes lift over to his door, seeing that it’s locked. Oh. So he did come in here for some special alone time.
You let out a small chuckle, causing San to quickly whip around, both hands now covering his thick hard on that can be easily seen through his pants. You see the flush on his face travel from his face to his neck. You wonder if his cock will be flushed the same way he is.
“Y-Y/N! I didn’t know you were here!” He squeaks out, voice layered with nerves.
You lean up against the door frame of the bathroom, arms crossing under your chest to have your tits poke out a bit more, his eyes flicker to your cleavage shamelessly, what a man.
“The other bathroom was occupied. I thought you wouldn’t mind if I used yours.” Your voice drips out, thicker than honey. You swear you see his eyes swirl with lust. Eyeing him up and down like he was candy. You could visibly see him gulp. Making your way over to where he was seated, standing in front of his open legs with his hands still covering his bulge. Your fingers lightly brush over his broad shoulders. His body does a noticeable shiver.
“My, my, my Choi San. Still as handsome as ever.” You whisper out, a clear smirk on your face, lips stretching into a grin.
San felt his knees buckle, this was wrong he shouldn’t be doing this, Wooyoung was his best friend. You were his bestfriends girlfriend, the ultimate forbidden fruit. Nodding his head at your words. His eyes glued to the floor. Trying to not grab the forbidden fruit that waves in front of his face.
“Thank you.” He slowly says, voice barely above a whisper. You can see his cock slightly twitch with each word that drops out of your mouth.
“You shouldn’t be here.” He whispers again, hands still trying to hide his jumping bulge.
Your fingers come up to play with the shirt that is being stretched by his wide shoulders. Your touch felt like fire on his ice body. He lets out a small whimper. If he made noises like that just based on your small touch, what would happen when his cock was stuffed inside you?
“I was just using the restroom Sannie, no harm in that. Unless…” you drift off at the end of your sentence. His eyes looking up at you, he swore he saw doves fly from around your head, and a light shine. They did say that the devil was once the most beautifulest angel.
“Unless what..?”
“Unless you don’t want me here, I can g-.”
“No!” He quickly speaks out, noticing your eyes grow hooded. Gaze feeling like you’ve caught a mouse in your trap. Clearing his throat he speaks up.
“I mean…what I meant was…if you needed the restroom by all means, please use it.”
Your fingers dance down his chest, nails scraping over his pecks. God, what a hunk.
“I don’t think we should be doing this…what about Wooyoung? What would he think?” He whispers out, trying to hold onto any morals he had left, you haven't even done much but yet he was withering away.
“I don’t know Sannie, you tell me. What would he think? He is your best friend, isn’t he?” You whisper out, hand now getting dangerously lower. As your fingers graze over his goosebump littered body he lets out a whimper.
“I’m not going to do anything you don’t want me to do. If you want me to go, I’ll go.” You lift your hands off of him, grazing a piece of his pants, your fingers feeling over his bulge. Taking a step back, his hand shoots out to grab your hips, not letting you step back any further. He’s biting his lip so much it’ll start bleeding any second. Bringing your thumb up to his lips you pull his bottom lip out. Running the pad of your thumb over it. His eyes bore up at you, unshed tears in his eyes. Was it shame/guilt making him feel this way? Or was it his undying desire for his bestfriends girlfriend?
“I want you so bad, I’ve always wanted you so bad Y/N.” He whimpers out, unshed tears now falling down his face. Your pussy clenched at the sight. You truly were making this man go against all his morals. Seonghwa did say once that San never betrays. Guess that was a lie. Everyone always has their own price.
Your fingers rake through his dark locks. Cooing at him, bringing his head to your stomach to let him cry. The light scratch at his scalp was driving him insane. Opening his legs further so you could stand in between them. You could feel his throbbing member on your own leg. God, he was blessed.
His hands start to roam your lower body, hesitating before slowly running down the side of your hips, circling back to grab two handfuls of your ass. You let out a small hum. Enjoying his strong hands on your body. His cologne flooding your nostrils now. Running your hands down to the back of his shirt you grab it, pulling his shirt over his head, tossing it to the floor. Stepping back as far as you could with his hands holding onto your hips. You can finally ogle at his body, he was built like a literal God.
Nails raking down his chest, leaving red angry lines on his skin. Tossing his head back, he groans out. Hands still full of your ass, he pulls you closer to him, so close you wind up knocking him back, his body hitting the mattress while you fall on top of him. One arm keeps you held up, while your other arm is braced against his chest. You grip his chin lightly, pulling him back into reality. Bringing your lips down you push your soft lip gloss coated lips against his. Licking his bottom lip you pull away, his hand shoots up to the back of your head pulling you back in, he couldn’t settle for that swift peck you gave him. He was needy, he needed you now, he needed you yesterday, he needed you when you agreed to be an item with his best friend. The kiss starts out hot, his tongue crashing against yours in a frenzy, trying to soak all of you in.
Groaning into the kiss, his hands roam all over your body, tugging at the clothes you are wearing. The way he’s pulling on them you'd assume he was trying to shred them to pieces. The kiss gets needier, teeth starting to clash, lips starting to wander to necks. Your fingers lightly tug on his hair, letting out a groan, you can feel his cock twitch at the tug. Smiling to yourself you pull back, pulling your shirt over your head. You swear you saw his eyes almost bug out. Grabbing his hands from your ass you stand up, pulling your pants along with your panties down. Foreplay in your eyes was over. You came here for one thing, and one thing only. Dick.
His eyes don’t know where to look, it’s all happening so fast, palming himself over his pants he lets out a small hiss. He’s rock hard, worried he might shoot his load if you even touch him with your naked body.
Unbuttoning his pants, cock begging to be free. He sits up, shimming his pants down, boxers still on. Doing nothing to hide his throbbing member. Your mouth moistens, oh how you want to shove his cock down your throat. Your hand runs delicately over his peck before pushing him back down so he’s laying flat on his back, sitting on his legs right before his cock so you can get a good look at all of him. His eyes bore up at you, as if you were playing God. Your nails run down the outline of his cock. Causing his whole body to shiver, grabbing your hand lightly, you look up at him amused.
“What’s wrong baby? Are you going to cum already?” You say through a pout, sarcasm thick in your voice. His chest flushed red again, beginning to pant, he nods his head quickly. Any form of verbal communication he has right now, has left the room.
You grab his cock through his boxers causing his hips to jerk up. Any other time he would’ve been embarrassed by how much a woman had affected him but the girl of his dreams was sitting on him in her bra, bare wet pussy on display for him. How could he care?
Tugging on the band of his boxers letting it snap against his skin, he lets out a moan. A smirk grows on your face. Tugging on the band, you let it snap against him again. Smirk growing by each pathetic moan he lets out. You rub the irritated skin where the band snapped against. Getting up off his legs, crawling on the side of him, tossing your leg over his chest, ass in his face, pussy on his chest. Looking back at him he’s staring at your core like it’s dessert. You push his boxers down letting his thick cock spring free, wet patches coat the boxers.
Bending over you blow on the head of his cock, earning a small whine from him. Arching your back so he has full access to your dripping cunt. You give his slit a lick, smearing his precum around. His hands jolt to your hips, trying to stabilize himself before he can even get a taste of you. Licking his lips he spreads your ass cheeks open to get a better view of your cunt. Eyes rolling back almost immediately, you were dripping.
Darting his tongue he instantly latches on to your clit. Causing you to let out a moan. His silky tongue runs along your folds, dipping into your hole, groaning at the way you taste, he sticks his tongue as far as it can go into you. Your mouth drops open, panting against his cock, trying your best to put it in your mouth but it’s hard when he's eating your pussy like it’s his last meal on earth. Just as you lock lips around the tip of him, his arms reach around to your upper body, right below your tits pulling you back to you were fully seated on his face. Your head falling back instantly. Giving your ass a harsh slap, he grabs both cheeks jiggling them while his face is buried into your cunt. Your body begins to clam up with sweat. The way he’s working your clit while thrashing his head back and forth has you ready to see another universe.
You begin bouncing on his face, causing him to groan, his neglected cock oozing with beads of pre cum. Hands still slapping your ass while keeping your cheeks spread so he could get full access to your pussy is driving you crazy. So wrapped up in the pleasure of bouncing on his face your orgasm approaches before you have time to even tell him, your back arches, fingernails digging into his thighs, surely to leave some marks. You do nothing to hide your loud moan as you reach climax. The poor people who pass by clearly know two people are in here fucking. But the thrill of them not knowing who is enticing. Slurping your juices down like he’s been deprived of fluids all his life. He fully understands why Adam and Eve ate that apple, forbidden fruit is so delicious.
Body feeling like a limp noodle you try your best to remain upright, his tongue still thrashing around your wet cunt causing you to let out small whimpers. Tossing your leg off of his chest, trying your hardest to pry him off of your pussy. Turning around so you are face to face with him, you run your thumb along his bottom lip, pulling down on it, he so easily submits to you, tongue rolling out , you spit into his mouth. You want him to feel as dirty as this situation is. You want him to bask in the delight of fucking you, yet you see him as easy. Fucking his best friends girlfriend, what a slut. As soon as you spit, it hits his tongue, letting out a moan, dick bobbing so hard you feel it brush the back of your thighs. Lining his cock up with your sopping entrance you slowly slide down his shaft. Giving your hips an experimental roll, his hands shoot down to your hips, causing them to stop.
His eyes scrunched shut, panting heavily, toes instantly in a curl position. Cooing at his disarrayed state you run your fingers down the sides of his face. You already got yours, you are being nice enough to let him get his.
“You're going to cum already baby? Is my cunt so good that one bounce in and you are going to come undone?” You chuckle. Lifting your hips slightly before slamming back down causing his whole body to jerk, his back arches off the bed. Shooting his load deep into you. His heavy panting filled the warm room. His eyes are squeezed tight, too lost in the feeling of his orgasm. Did you just turn Choi San into a minute man…?
You chuckle before you pick yourself up and start bouncing swiftly on his cock, his toes curl in an instant. Your warm wet walls wrapped his clock with so much ease. Hugging him tight each time you shifted up. Overstimulation causing him to whimper out your name in a whiny voice. His hands drop to your ass, holding onto it for dear life. As you bounce up and down slamming your cunt onto him, you place your hands onto his chest, getting better leverage to fuck your self on him. Bringing your face down to his lips lightly brushing over his plump moist ones.
“Am I fucking you good San-Ah?” You say with a crooked smile on your face. He looks fucked out already, his eyes twinkling under the room light.
You are bouncing with determination, cracking his eyes open to get a better look at you, he sees the crazed look in your eyes. You truly are the devil.
“Oh my fucking god.” He moans out, drool starting to pour from the side of his mouth. You wrap a hand around his neck. Giving it a slight squeeze, causing him to place his feet on the bed, trying his best to thrust up into you, he couldn’t get enough of your cunt. If he could be buried into it all the time, he would. His sloppy thrust trying to meet your heavy bouncing. Each time you go down you can feel your wetness leaking down his cock, dropping down to his balls. His own inner thighs become moist with your juices.
“Whose fucking you this good baby?” You groan out against his neck, placing sloppy kisses along his collar bone. While one hand remained firm on his thick neck. It was the ultimate power move. He was beneath you, quite figuratively and literally. Making sure not to leave any marks. He wasn’t yours to claim.
“You are!” He whimpers out, hand coming down to crack against your ass. While he holds the other ass cheek, lifting you up and down so you could ride him harder and faster.
“That’s right baby…I am fucking you this good.”
You pant out into his ear, tongue darting out to lick the skin close to his ear. Your cool tongue on him pushes him over the edge. Both his hands now jack hammering you up and down his cock. You let him freely bounce you around like you are a rag doll. Not even caring if you come this second time around. You let him freely use you.
“Fuck fuck fuck!” He loudly groans out. Eyes squeezed shut, toes curling harder, his head tossed back. It’s such a shame Wooyoung asked you out first. If you had known San looked like an absolute god while cumming you would’ve turned down Wooyoungs offer to go public. His hips jerk one last time while he slams you down onto him, your cunt clenches as soon as you feel his same load shoot deep into you. Core muscles flexing because of how hard he came, finally relaxes. His body falls to a limp in an instant. You stand up slowly easing off his cock, you both let out a small hiss. As you stand onto your feet, his cum instantly starts to ooze out of you. Waddling over to the bathroom, you try to clean yourself up the best way possible. Not offering him any pillow talk or aftercare. You got what you came for.
Walking back into the bedroom you see San with his eyes still blissfully shut, cock now softening. Picking your clothes up off the floor you pulled your panties back on, your pants following behind. San sat up in bed, seeing you shuffle around to toss on your clothes.
“Where are you going?” He pants out, still in complete awestruck of the mind blowing orgasm you gave him.
You chuckle to yourself, shaking your head slightly while throwing your shoes back on.
“I’m going back to the party, Sannie. Can’t lay in bed with you all night now.” You get up correcting your smudged lip gloss and sweated out mascara. He bores his eyes into the back of your head. Feeling his heart snap into two. He didn’t know what was eating him more. Guilt, or sadness. You coo at San, making your way over to the side of the bed he was currently on. Placing both hands on his face, mushing his lips together.
“Sannie my love, did you think we were going to lay here and cuddle? What would Wooyoung think? Isn’t that what you told me before? Your best friend Wooyoung.” Your sticky lip glossed lips peck him quickly. Drawing away to fast for his liking.
“But I’m in love with you..” He squeaks out through squished cheeks. A heavy blush coating his chest and cheeks. Not even caring that you brought up Woo. You plagued his mind. You laugh loudly, the mockery vibrating off of the walls. You kiss his nose before standing up making your way to exit the bedroom.
“I’m in love with you too Sannie, in love with you just like I’m in love with Wooyoung.” You say through a chuckle.
“But sometimes love just doesn’t cut it anymore Sannie.” You say unlocking the door and twisting the knob.
“If it makes you feel better, your cock was amazing. That was ‘in love’ worthy sex right there.” As you stepped out of the room the sound of your shoes echoed through the empty hall. Not caring if anyone saw you leaving Sans room. You follow the loud music back to the living room where your boyfriend awaited you. You could feel the music carrying you.
“You doing anything to keep her by your side
Because she says she love you, love you long
Time, she’s a maneater, make you work hard,
Make you spend hard, make you want all of her
Love, she’s a maneater.
😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈
A/N: When I tell y’all the amount of times I had Maneater by Nelly Furtado on repeat should be illegal💀. This song was and still is my shiiiiittttt! I love reading about maneater women bc like periodddd! Had him pussywhipped so early on. Anyways I hope you all enjoy this one💕👏🏼!
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complete-clownery · 3 months
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Okay I wont get to work on this any longer tonight so imma just post this
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So this morning I have realised some stuff about my Macaque home hc
So first of all you can see the human disguised Macaque with Bai He,
and so Bai He wasnt there or "planed into the house" three days ago, but I decided that, that just wont do, I want her with Macaque, so im going to have to go back and alter my original ideas so it would fit the concept of Bai He also living there with Macaque (I have quit a lot of ideas for that, but ill get to them when I have the time)
But its not the main reason I wanted to talk about this even with half finished ideas under constructuion in my head
The big thing you already saw the random old lady and the antic Store/shop, so its no suprise im going to talk about that a for a bit,,, not a lot tho cuz I dont really got the energy for this
Soo--- She does not have a name, but Ill work on that, shes not fully thougt out, but nothing really when it comes to my ideas and headcanons (its kinda like eating halfbaked dough)
so shes 73 years old divorced lady running a little antic shop in the outer cirkles of Megapolis. I was thinking maybe it was her who originally selled the whole building to Macaque and rented the free space under the dojo.
She has a daughter and a grandkid (didn't decide on gender yet)
Shes kinda inspired by @/ladygreenfrisbee's oc in the fanfiction sunbreak, a snarky but sweet old lady whos not taking any shit from the brooding, shadow the hedgehog wannabe.
When she was younger she worked in a Museum in Megapolis, working with antient historical artifacts and megical weapons, but she pretty much knew everything about anything in there, with history and old stories being one of her passions,
Thus after she retired she decided to open and antic store. Even tho its an antic store, she can be one of those people that you bring an old piece of furniture or object in and they can tell you if its legit or not. She is also willing to trade and buy stuff from you if its to her likings. She's fair and not a con artist, she has just enough money for herself and thats completely fine by her, shes a simple woman when it comes to living.
She has a ton of degrees, Dr. And Phd tytels and what nots, extreamly smart and knows a lot about history and mytology and different eras of the past, making it easier for her and Macaque to connect over old stuff.
Also I was thinking, even tho she couldnt tell that Macaque was the Six Eared Macaque himself, she knew that they were wearing glamours, She studied artifects and worked with demons who were experts on the field of magics and glamours, she knows her shit
And even tho She had a decent relationshipp with Macaque I dont think Macaque would willingly let her see his true form, maybe after he was very exhausted, and injured after a fight they couldnt hold it up and were like-- fuck it who cares (maybe it was after the final fight with LBD) and she obviously knew who they were imidietly seeing his Six ears (that even tho he let her see one time hé continued to glamour like he would usually, only letting go of their human disguise)
So after that she would start asking him a whole lot of questions about the past and what was it like, carefully avoiding the questions involving the great sage equal to heaven, cuz she knew what happend from jttw
But yeah Macaque found it funny how a child and an old lady are looking at him with similar shimmer to their eyes as they interrogate him on the past
She loves a good tea and has her own little blends that calm the nerves and ease muscle pain and stuff like that. After She and Macaque became more friendly with eachother she gifted them some tea that helps him fall asleep better and relax. Macaque checked them for poison twice and couldnt find anything, but still wasnt willing to drink from them until he had a very fucked up breakdown yippeee ✌️
After Macaque lived there for some years they somewhat warmed up to eachother, they would hold little tea paties and talk about stuff (annoying husbands and divorce) after Bai He started living with Macaque these tea parties increased in numbers, sometimes the ladys grandchild joining in when Grandma was watching over them, maybe they get along well with Bai He, maybe they had a rocky begining to their friendshipp, but they warmed up to eachother and now are pretty good friends (maybe, ill think about it more)
BUT!!! this was it for now its already 2:40 am and im waking up at 6:40 so even tho I have more to say ill be going now
Bye thank you for reading ✌️☺️
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blindmagdalena · 2 months
Text
Eat Your Ego, Honey ( Ch 8 )
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homelander x oc 18+  escort services, sex work, voyeurism, stalking, Homelander in general. see ao3 link for detailed tags. chapter index. check out the playlist!
chapter summary: After the disastrous spectacle that was Homelander's birthday celebration, America's "disgraced" hero is forced to reconcile with the demons in his head, and what that means for Layla, the woman standing precariously in their path.
additional tags: unhealthy/codependent dynamics, threats of violence, themes of abuse, canon deviation. 🖤
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Sleep is a scarcity. Homelander fades in and out of consciousness, but he never truly rests. It’s strange to sleep somewhere he can't see the comfort of his own gaze endlessly mirrored back at him. Those mirrors make the world so much bigger, but for the first time in a long time, he doesn’t mind how small it is. What would normally be a dark, claustrophobic thing is now a great deal safer than the open expanse of a stage.
Layla’s warmth and the faint weight of her arm around him is the only thing that keeps him somewhat tethered. Her heartbeat is a steady metronome against his back, her breaths warmly ghosting over his neck and shoulder. It’s been hours, but it feels too soon when the covers move on his skin as she readjusts in her sleep, pulling her arm from him. He lifts the blanket and rolls to face her. 
She’s turned away from him, her dark hair fanned out in a wild splay on the pillow beneath her. Light from the unsleeping city spills in through the window, illuminating her figure. It’s strange to see her sleeping in day clothes and not the sleepwear he’s used to seeing her in. She didn’t have the time to change tonight. She was too busy taking him back into her arms, into her bed, into her life. He brushes his knuckles down between her shoulder blades, the disheveled silk of her blouse soft beneath his fingers.
He’ll find out why Starlight’s scent is lingering on her when she wakes.
Sliding closer to her, he flattens his palm over her hip and noses at the line of her throat, inhaling deeply, chasing the scent beneath shampoo and lotion until he finds what’s simply her. Her wine flush has followed her into sleep, her skin warmer than usual. She responds to his touch with a sleepy sigh of pleasure. Even now, the sound of her voice does so much to quiet the storm in his heart. He screws his eyes shut and buries his face into the soft tresses of her hair, gritting his teeth against the urge to squeeze too tight. 
The urge to keep. 
The urge to break it all apart and let the storm rage. Instead, he keeps himself perfectly still, trying to swallow the thrumming energy coiling in his tense muscles. End this, the darkness in him hisses, tempting him. How many days has he resisted the urge to reach out, not with his hands but with this thing inside him, and ruin everything? Everyone? A flash of crimson is all it would take to cleave this world in half.
But he can’t afford to. Not then, not now.
The only way he made it out of the cold isolation of the lab, far away from the bad room, was by convincing the staff, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he was good. He was their perfect man-made hero. Logically, he knows they can’t ever put him back in the bad room. He’d never let them. It doesn’t stop the nightmares.
He folds in on himself, doing his best to forget that he even has power to wield against others—a whim as sharp as glass. Now, just as then, he orders his body and mind to still, to calm.
If Layla had stayed yesterday morning, things would have been different. His tightly controlled grip on her hip flexes minutely. How can she sleep so deeply knowing that she’s ruined him?
What was she doing with Starlight?
The inkling of a deeper betrayal slithers into his mind. He slides his hand up the length of her torso, traversing the familiar scape of her body, and into her hair, coiling his fingers into a gentle fist of it. One twist is all it would take to quiet her soothing voice forever. Would hair ever feel the same to him again, or would it start to smell like burning tears and cornea? The stench of grief hits him so suddenly that his eyes sting with it, and he recoils from Layla like he himself has been burned.
Has she been scheming against him all along, too?
Fucked. He’s so completely and entirely fucked.
He exhales harshly, curling his hand into a tight fist and biting into the meaty curve just below his thumb, muffling a tearful keen. He can’t think back to that morning without reliving how horribly it went wrong, and how the dominos just continued to fall until he was losing his senses in front of the entire world.
Those moments on stage play over and over in his mind, but each instance of them grows more warped than the last. He’s starting to forget what he really said, conflating memories with nightmares. How much of himself did he really let slip? How ugly does the world think him to be now? 
He can see the headlines now.
Homelander: America’s Fallen Hero
Homelander: Vought’s Poster Boy Throws a Tantrum
Homelander: Deranged Freak Snaps On Stage
He’s spiraling worse than he did during Stormfront’s smear campaign against him. It isn’t just dissenting opinions and slander—he’s finally given them real ammunition to use against him. The question is: how much, and how will he refute it? He needs to be able to recover from this.
His voice of reason is treacherously quiet. Nothing but the dreadful echo of I warned you.
With his thoughts twisting in on themselves like a pit of angry, writhing snakes, he finds it impossible to stay still any longer. His whole body is plagued with a restlessness that turns into agony. Carefully, he extracts himself from Layla’s side and slips out of her bed. He needs to see it for himself. He needs to understand the degree of damage that’s been done to him.
Stepping out into her living room, Homelander picks up the remote for her television and flips it on, dropping the volume to such a miniscule level that he’ll be the only one to hear it. He lowers himself down onto the couch and stares, watching his body move and speak, seemingly puppeteered by someone other than himself, operating in ways he’s never seen himself behave in front of a camera before.
“I’m done being persecuted for my strength–”
Erratic.
“Persecuted for my strength–”
Unhinged.
“Persecuted–”
Alive.
If they want to take us down, we’re going to take every last one of them down with us.
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The sky is just barely beginning to turn with dawn’s light when Layla wakes to a chill that rolls up her spine. Her bed feels colder than it has any right to, and as the fractured events of last night spill back into her mind, it doesn’t take her long to figure out why. 
Homelander—who knows if he’ll accept that name yet—is nowhere to be seen.
Her temples throb with the aftermath of emptying a hefty bottle of wine as she lifts herself from bed, running her hands through her hair, breaking apart the tangles with her fingers.
The breadcrumb trail of Homelander’s suit leading from her balcony to her bed tells her that he hasn’t left. The image of him streaking through the sky in the nude does occur to her, though. Straightening her borrowed blouse and tucking it back into the waist of her skirt, she steps lightly through the dark of her apartment, head on a swivel, until she spots her quarry.
Reclined on her couch, Homelander paints an image somewhere between a renaissance painting and a billboard for depression, his body illuminated by the flashing light of the television. His expression is morose, his hand sitting on the couch next to him at an angle, the remote tilted in his loose grasp. As she approaches, he begins tapping on the volume until his own recorded voice fills the empty space between them.
It’s his tirade from last night.
“Hey, babe,” he drawls from the couch, voice pitched low and despondent. The way he pops each consonant makes the pet name sound downright derogatory. “So, what’s the verdict?” He asks, lazily gesturing to the television with the remote. “Is it everything you thought it would be?” His gaze slides from the screen to her, his head lolling to the side with it.
Any concern or lingering sleepiness in her face is swiftly replaced with bewilderment. “Excuse me?”
“‘Excuse me?’” He mocks, pitching his voice up condescendingly. Her expression hardens as he stands, the remote bouncing along the couch cushions where he tosses it. “Don’t play dumb with me.”
“I’m not playing anything with you,” she responds tersely. She’s never been a morning person. Compound that with the ache in her skull and the naked pain in the neck standing in front of her, she’s not feeling her usual bounty of patience. Last night, he was a weepy, sopping mess. Now she doesn’t know what to expect from the tight line of his shoulders, or the agitated curl of his upper lip. “I have no idea what it is you think you’re picking at.”
“Since when are you and Starlight pals, then?” He hisses through his teeth.
Shit. Annie. She never sent that text.
“Since yesterday,” she answers, her calm stretched thin. “She saw me at the elevator. She offered a shower and a change of clothes. That’s all.” She doesn’t find it necessary to explain why Starlight might have offered such a thing. He knows exactly how she looked when she left his penthouse, bruised and disheveled.
The memory looks to serve as a crisp slap, some level of clarity filtering into the incensed glaze of his eyes. His grip flexes, and he bares his teeth in an animalistic flash of frustration. He isn’t willing to accept fault for that yet.
“Stop fucking lying to me!” He snaps, the sudden jump in volume startling her. He advances on her sharply, halting her step backwards with an iron grip, his palm against her throat, his thumb and index finger notching perfectly behind the curve of her jaw below her ears. The contact is minimal, and yet the strength in those two fingers alone is more than enough to hold her firmly in place. 
“You’re all the fucking same! Agendas, lies, all of you trying to control me, use me, and you—you’re exactly the fucking same. You’ve taken everything from me,” he snarls. Despite his fervor, his grip remains remarkably controlled. Sometimes it’s as if his mind and his body are two independent entities: one an unstable, emotionally malnourished psyche, and the other a finely tuned weapon.
The human mind wants dangerous things to be ugly, but even now, Homelander’s twisted, angry expression is not an ugly thing. Though adrenaline surges the thrum of her heart, it isn’t laden with the fear any reasonable person would have. The thrill coursing through her isn’t rooted in some comfort that he won’t hurt her. It’s the knowledge that he—more devastating than any man she’s ever known—absolutely will if not handled correctly.
It’s like holding a thundering storm in her bare hands.
Layla stares wide-eyed and astonished, so thoroughly unaware of what he’s accusing her of that she struggles to speak around the hard lump in her throat. He leans closer yet, clutching her with all the same strength, tenderness and menace of the ocean cradling a ship.
“I killed her,” he whispers, the words passing between them like a confession to God himself. He’s so near, she could rest her forehead against his if she wanted. “I killed her for lying to me. I’ll kill you, too.”
Madelyn Stillwell. The name returns to her like a ghost, the hairs at the back of her neck prickling. Or was it Stormfront? The unnamed mother of his child? One was the victim of a domestic terrorist, one committed suicide, and the third is yet undetermined. All of them are apparent casualties of Homelander’s turbulent presence in their lives. Is she to be the fourth in a string of tragedies? Rage swells so suddenly in her heart that she almost chokes on the fire of it. What right does he have to interrogate her and  threaten her?
“Are you glad?” She asks, her voice steady despite the tremble in her hand holding his wrist in turn. “Are you glad to have killed her?”
His expression flips as if he’s been struck, crinkled brows shooting up. “What?”
“Will you be glad to have killed me?” She asks tightly, her nails biting ineffectual crescents into his titanium flesh. Her tone is sharp and no longer meant to soothe. She speaks to cut. “Or will you just be even more alone?”
Like hers, his eyes turn glassy. “No,” he says softly. She doesn’t know if that’s an answer or a plea.
“Let me go,” she tells him firmly, fighting to hold onto the fires of her own indignant anger. His abrupt flashes of softness and vulnerability compromise her resolve.
“Go where, Layla?” He snaps, suddenly loud again. His broken desperation and seething anger make his voice reedy. “Where the fuck could you go that I wouldn’t still feel you? Kill you, fuck you, love you; you’re in my fucking head!”
You’re all the fucking same!
She isn’t dead, but he’s treating her like a ghost nonetheless. As if she’s already one of the many specters haunting him.
“You love me?” She asks him, snatching that precarious lifeline out of the messy slurry of his words. She’s not sure that he knows the meaning of it. 
Does she?
The tension in Homelander’s face goes slack, stricken to hear those words fall from her lips. His mouth opens and closes as he tries and fails to form the right words. It’s too vulnerable to say yes, and too complicated to say no. Ultimately, he can’t bear to answer first.
“Do you love me?” He asks, defensive, as if she were the one who brought the terrifying gravity of love into the equation in the first place. The weight of it turns her tongue to lead.
There’s an adolescent sense of fumbling in this moment that would be endearing if he were not clutching her jaw with inhuman strength, the whispered promise of her death hanging over them like a creaky guillotine. In another life, this could have been a very sweet confession.
“Do you?” He prompts her again, desperate. He cups the back of her head with his other hand, taking a step closer. His chest bumps her forearms where she has them tightly braced, hands clamped tightly over his wrist. It’s a meager barrier to uphold, but she does so steadfastly. His hold on her is suffocating, his agonized ocean eyes filling up her vision. He’s larger than life, leaving space for little else in her life ever since he crashed into it.
Even when he’s gone, she is consumed by him like a fever that refuses to be sweated out. When her career first began, she knew well enough not to entertain superhumans. It wasn’t a bias she held against them per se, but the opposite: she knew from the start that she would become intoxicated on the danger of them. Homelander is the epitome of everything she’s ever been too afraid to let herself love. He’s the first person to ever be enough of a risk to scare her, and enough of a reward to satiate her. She can feel her destruction lurking in him just as plainly as her parents found their own in their shared thrill seeking.
“I want to,” she whispers, a secret she’s denied even to herself until now. “But you’re making it so fucking hard.”
He exhales roughly, something like hope softening the tension in his expression before he screws his eyes shut, another wave of agony contorting his features. His forehead thumps gently against hers. “I don’t know—I don’t know how else to be. I don’t know how. I don’t know how to make it easy.”
Finally, he releases her jaw from the snare of his grip, only to take either side of her face between his hands, pulling away to look at her. He’s always been younger than her in a multitude of ways, but in this moment, the agonized youth in his eyes takes her breath away. “I was—I was made to be loved. I was supposed to be everyone’s hero. They poked and prodded me, manufactured me in a-a fucking lab to be perfect, but no one—”
Layla’s eyes widen, her heart seized. What?
Homelander bares his teeth like a wounded animal, breath hissing in and out of his clenched teeth as tears roll down his cheeks. “But no one does, no one fucking does, no one loves me,” he says through his teeth, nearly choking on the words. “I don’t understand how to make it easy, Layla,” he sobs, hands shaking on either side of her face. She can’t tell if it’s from sheer emotion, or the restraint it takes not to crush her between them.
“So just—tell me what I need to do, please,” he begs her, devastatingly beautiful in the same way the sprawling webbing of a shattered mirror is. “Tell me how to be easy to love.”
Breathless, Layla stands there with her heart bleeding so freely, so painfully, that she swears there’s warm blood soaking onto the pristine white blouse she wears.
There is a monster in Homelander. At times, she can feel the claws of it in his grip on her. Hear it growling in her ear. When it comes to handling monsters, banishment is always the remedy. Slay the beast, free the man. Homelander’s monster is not so easily felled, nor is she certain it should be. He was not born with sharp teeth and claws. From what she’s gathered, they were filed into fine points long before he was a man.
People like to think of the monster within them as an outside force. Corruption, propaganda, the devil. Layla has spent enough time in bed with people’s deviance to know better. The proverbial devil is not outside of humanity, but embedded deep within It cannot be safely extracted any more than a beating heart can.
But corruption isn’t a heart—it’s a stomach. 
It craves and yearns, it twists and aches and growls when hungry. Just as Eve ate of the apple, humans take bites of sin to satiate their monster. Like people, monsters come in a wide variety of shapes, temperaments, and cravings. Some beasts can be satisfied with a nibble here and there. Others require more. Some never learned how to know when they’re full.
After all he has been deprived of, Homelander may never be truly satisfied, but does that mean he doesn’t deserve to be fed at all?
No, Layla thinks. It doesn’t.
Both of their faces are streaked wet with tears as they hold one another’s gazes. Gingerly, she brings her own hands up to cup his face, wiping his tears with her thumbs. “Okay,” she whispers, afraid her own voice of reason will hear her. “Okay, my darling.”
Relief helps smooth the crease between his brows, but it doesn’t dissipate entirely. “Say it,” he urges her, the hands still upon her face giving the faintest nudge. “Say you love me.”
“I love you,” she says, teary and quiet, but with conviction. She leans in, and he allows her to, no longer holding her firmly in place for fear that she might suddenly vanish. “I love you,” she says again, a promise that ghosts his lips. He shudders. “I love you. You’re in my head,” she says, echoing his own words back at him. Her lips brush against his in a not-quite kiss. “You were from the start.”
He exhales a pained, keening sound, pushing his fingers into her hair and pulling her deep into a feverish kiss. His hunger for her is voracious, and his desire is a force she might not withstand—not by virtue of its violence, but because of its sheer magnitude. He kisses her fiercely, one arm slipping around her middle to keep her body from bowing under the weight of his love.
“I love you, too,” he breathes, the relief in his voice palpable. She takes the air of it into her lungs like it might save her. “I love you so fucking much.”
It’s dangerous, she knows, to trick herself into believing she can satiate his mountainous hunger. Danger is like an ice bath, though. You grow accustomed to the bite of it.
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Morning light creeps slowly into Layla’s condo. Homelander trails her as closely as her own shadow, breathing in against the crook of her neck while she cooks breakfast. He’s partially dressed in his undershirt and underwear, his suit folded neatly upon her vanity for the time being. It’s nice to feel his arms around her without the obstructive padding of his suit. Without the bulk of it, she fits more closely against him, his superhuman warmth like a particularly cuddly space heater pressed against her back.
“One egg or two?” She asks him, plucking one from the container on the counter.
“Mmm… Two,” he says, the deliberation making it sound more like a trivia answer than a preference.
She cracks four eggs into the pan, one at a time. “Over easy, medium, hard…?”
He grins against her neck, and she gives his hand at her hip a playful little swat with the back of her silicone spatula. “I dunno,” he says, nuzzling her. “However you like it.”
“Have you never had eggs before?” She asks, looking back at him. 
He’s got his chin propped up on her shoulder. His gaze flickers up from the sizzling pan to meet hers. “Just scrambled.”
…I was made… manufactured in a fucking lab…
She swallows a small lump in her throat, turning back to the eggs. She flips them all over easy and plates them with the toast. When she takes the toast off of the plates and begins slicing them into strips, Homelander makes an inquisitive noise.
“You’ll see,” she says cryptically, shooing him to the table as she plates their breakfasts and carries them to the table.
Homelander sits, and she sets his plate down in front of him. She sits on the adjoining corner to his, but within seconds he has a grip on her seat. The chair legs groan as he slides her closer to him, smiling at her look of surprise. “That’s better,” he says, his knee bumping hers.
He’d likely prefer she be in his lap. There’s always a lingering sense that she’s never quite close enough, even when they’re pressed tightly against one another. He might not be satisfied until he finds a way to open her up and crawl inside.
Huffing a small laugh, she gestures to his plate. “Use the toast sticks to break the yolk,” she tells him, and then demonstrates on her own meal, jabbing a piece of toast into the soft yellow yolk, coating it properly before taking a bite.
Blinking, Homelander does the same. He hums appreciatively, nodding with a mouthful of food.
“My gramma insisted that all food tastes better when it’s dipped. She always made my breakfasts this way,” she explains, her smile tinged with bittersweet nostalgia. “I can’t remember the last time I did it for myself.” 
Silence follows. She glances up to find Homelander staring intently at his plate, a cut of toast pinched between his fingers, dripping yolk back down onto the egg. Layla takes a breath to speak, but that inhale is all it takes to snap him from his thoughts, his sharp blue eyes meeting hers.
“Ryan would like this, I think,” he says. She can tell he’s working to keep his voice conversational.
“Ryan?” She echoes, though it clicks a second after she says it.
“My son,” he confirms, clearing his throat gently. She shares his trepidation as he enters this particular topic of conversation, considering the fallout the last time it was broached. He dips the toast again and takes another bite, seemingly buying time with deliberate chews.
Layla bites her tongue, choking back her own knee-jerk response. She likes children just fine, in theory. She’s had very little practical experience. Still, words of unbidden advice bubble up on her tongue as if she’s an expert. She wants to tell Homelander to go to the boy, talk to him. He told her that she had taken everything from him, presumably referring to his very public meltdown, but that isn’t true in a number of ways. He has a son out there somewhere, confused and without either of his parents.
It sets a sympathetic churn in her gut. Grieving her own parents as a child made an adult of her far too soon. She may not have raised any children herself, but she can speak as a child who was left behind.
“He’s nine. He’s strong,” Homelander continues tentatively. “I mean, really strong. Strong like me,” he says, pride underlining each word, driving out the hesitance. “He’s so much like me. I never thought I’d see it, but he’s real. He’s—” he breaks into a small, incredulous laugh. “—He’s a miracle. A real, born miracle.”
Unlike you, she surmises from his tone. He said that Vought had made him. The world has been rocked by the revelation that supes are the result of Vought’s pharmaceutical ventures, but the way Homelander talks of his son makes him sound different. An exception to that fact, somehow.
“You should go to him,” she encourages, still holding onto a level of cautiousness on the matter. “I was left behind by my parents. I don’t wish it on anyone.”
“I didn’t leave him behind,” Homelander corrects sharply. She was right to tread lightly. “He left me,” he says, though he doesn’t speak with anger so much as he does woundedness. He’s never expressed anything but love—bordering on reverence—for his son, and yet he has completely roadblocked himself from reaching out.
It’s complicated, he told her before.
“He’s nine. It’s not his job to uncomplicate things or bridge the gap,” she says as gently as she can muster, though even she can hear the weariness in her own voice. “It’s yours. He needs you to be the adult, to help the world make sense. It’s one thing to give him space, but you can’t abandon him.”
At first, there is a flash of petulant defiance in Homelander’s eyes, obvious in the tight set of his jaw. To Layla’s relief, however, it fades into quiet consideration. He looks back down to his half-finished plate.
“You can’t take personally what anyone, much less a child, does out of grief,” she says softly, reaching out to put her hand atop his where it rests on the table. “Ryan needs wisdom. Support. People who love him. He needs his father.”
He looks up at her with a level of vulnerability in those ocean blue eyes that never fails to pull her into the depths. “You think so?”
“I know so,” she says firmly. To this day, she can’t imagine what she wouldn’t do for just one more day with her own father. 
Slowly, the wateriness of his gaze becomes a sparkle. Homelander smiles. He has as many smiles as an ice cream shop has flavors, and this one says he’s just had an idea.
“What?” Layla asks after a beat, an edge of suspicion to her tone.
“Nothing,” he says placatingly. His smile shifts. She knows that flavor of smile. That one means he’s lying. “Just relieved is all. Could I use your phone?”
It’s a wonder the ease with which Homelander glides from mood to mood, as if he puts each one neatly in a box before he takes out the next one. Layla only hesitates for a second before she nods, sliding out of her chair to go and fetch her cellphone. She still needs to text Annie.
“Jesus,” she says softly, staring at her screen with a deep crease in her brow.
“What?” Homelander asks, leaning in his seat.
She has thirty missed calls, and about as many text messages.
THIS IS ASHLEY BARRET. HAVE YOU SEEN HOMELANDER? IF YOU KNOW WHERE HOMELANDER IS, PLEASE CONTACT ME. PLEASE CONTACT ME IF YOU KNOW WHERE HOMELANDER IS. MISS ALDEN PLEASE CONTACT ME AND ONLY ME IF YOU HAVE SEEN HOMELANDER. IF YOU CAN PLEASE INFORM HOMELANDER HE IS UP.
Ashley Barret. Layla recalls the name from Homelander’s initial booking. She had been the one to handle the details and arrange payment.
“Ashley Barret is very desperate to find you,” she says, reading the texts as she walks back towards him. “She says that you’re… up.” She stops at the table, looking at him. “What does that mean?”
The chair legs scrape audibly against the floor when Homelander stands up. “Give me that,” he says, taking the phone from her outstretched hand. His expression pinches tightly as he scrolls through the messages, lips parted. “I’m… up,” he says slowly, processing the words that mean nothing to Layla. With a tap, she hears a dial tone. Homelander holds the phone to his ear.
“Miss Alden–” answers a feminine voice immediately.
“What do you mean I’m up?” Homelander interrupts, a harshness to his voice that Layla doesn’t expect to hear outside of an argument.
“21 points with your base,” Ashley says breathlessly.
Homelander’s expression softens, becoming wonder-like. “What did you say?”
“21 points. They loved your speech!”
He looks at Layla, familiar glassiness returning to his eyes. He lifts his loose hand, which curls slowly into a fist, as if he’s taking hold of something precious, some nebulous concept of grace he had thought lost. 
“A massive 44% uptick with white males in the Rust Belt.”
“Yes,” Homelander hisses through his teeth, pumping his fist triumphantly. “Fuck yes! Yes!” With that same hand, he suddenly takes hold of the back of Layla’s neck, pulling her into a deep kiss. Her noise of surprise is muffled against his lips, his tongue a slick demand on hers.
“They’re saying you’re confident and unapologetic!” Ashley’s voice continues to prattle from the phone, though Layla’s finding it hard to pay attention with the way Homelander’s taking a fistful of her hair, bowing her back, kissing her hungrily. “That you’re not afraid to be yourself!”
He outright moans against her lips. She breaks away from him with a gasp, hand pressed against her chest. “Should I give you a moment alone with Ashley?” She asks breathlessly, only half-joking. The man is absolutely alight against her, heat radiating in his touches. The news trips an alarm bell somewhere in the back of Layla’s mind, but she’s struggling to process it in the wake of his voraciousness.
“Christ, no,” he says. The phone hits the ground with a clatter, Ashley’s confused voice continuing distantly on the line. He cups both sides of Layla’s face and pulls her back in, exhaling a pleased little growl against her lips. “Did you hear? They love me. They fucking love me,” he says between kisses, breathless and downright giddy.
Drawing back, he strokes her cheeks tenderly with his thumbs, his smile broad, eyes shining with relief, joy, and something Layla can’t quite place, though it causes a small knot to form in her gut.
“They want me to be myself.”
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waywardxwords · 8 months
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Part Five
Part 5 of the Highway to Hell series Word Count: 2,863 Ratings/Warnings: Some cursing, a little hint of fluff...some Supernatural-y topics...angels, demons, prophets, etc.
Not caught up yet? Check out the landing page for this series.
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Castiel had seemed to be worse off than Dean led her to believe. Although she couldn’t be sure, she had never seen the angel out of “juice”, as they had called it. He seemed tired and completely out of it.
“Did anyone follow you?” Sam asked, he seemed tired as well. Going back in time and seeing his family like that…it was something he probably wasn’t completely prepared for and it took more out of him than he realized.
“I don’t know,” she brought a hand to her head. She was frustrated with herself for not knowing how to answer him. “I don’t think so? I-I’m sorry, I should have paid closer attention…”
“You did good,” she felt Dean place his hand gently on her back. “It’s okay if you were followed, we’ll take care of it.” It didn’t escape her that Dean was sticking to the initial promise he made when they first had met–about taking care of the people that were important to them.
“So now the demons know about her?” Sam asked, to no one in particular. His eyes looked to Bobby, Cas, and Dean. They all seemed to look at each other. “What does that mean?”
“It means we have to keep her safe,” Dean spoke first before anyone could offer up any other potential solution. He seemed to pace a bit; his palm pulled down the front of his face, in a hasty attempt to wipe the exhaustion away.
“One thing’s for sure, you ain’t goin’ back to that office of yours,” Bobby wheeled through the living room. “That was a stupid decision on our part.”
“If demons have been made aware of your existence, then the angels know, too,” Castiel murmured from his spot in the living room. His eyes gazed off to the side with his brows stitched together–he was thinking about something. As he processed, thunder clashed in the distance. With the next flash of lightning through the window, you realized three men had suddenly appeared. 
“Hello, boys,” the oldest man in the middle wore a wide grin as he stood there in a charcoal colored suit. Before she knew what was happening, Dean moved to stand in front of her–Sam not far behind.
Castiel tried to straighten himself.
“Son of a bitch,” Dean muttered. She noticed the way his upper back muscles twitched as he stood in front of her. 
“Now, now, Dean,” the man scolded him as his eyes tried to move to the woman tucked carefully behind him. “We’d like to meet the girl.”
“Not gonna happen, Chuckles,” she noticed how Dean’s voice had deepened, matching the stance he stood protectively. 
“Zachariah…” Castiel started, almost nervously. 
“Castiel,” he acknowledged their angel friend. “I’m not surprised you’ve been helping hide the new prophet.” He took a step slowly as he tried to catch a glimpse, but Dean was ready to match his pace. He took a step for each step that Zachariah took to keep her behind him.
“What do you want with a prophet, anyway?” Sam asked. He didn’t care so much for the answer, he was more interested in keeping Zachariah and his two angel security guards distracted as much as possible. 
“Prophets are meant to be protected,” Zachariah began as he glanced back at Sam only for a moment. “Hanging out in the back pocket of the Winchesters isn’t a place for a prophet. She will be kept safe in Heaven.” He turned to look back at Dean and the woman standing behind him. “Trust me, girl. The Winchesters are dangerous. Anyone who gets even a little bit close to them ends up dead.” Tears stung at her eyes and blurred her vision slightly as she took in the words Heaven and dead. 
“I think we’ll take our chances,” Dean said matter-of-factly. She wondered if he meant that; could he possibly mean they would take their chance on her death? 
Off to the side, she noticed something–something was off with Bobby. He kept tracing his eyes back to Dean and moving his hand. It was subtle; she really had to watch closely as he moved.
“See, Dean. This is the issue with you,” Zachariah started in, his feet moved closer to Dean. The two body guards behind him followed closely behind. “You don’t care about the victims. You’ll do whatever you possibly can to re-write the word of God. You aren’t a hero, Dean! People around you. End. Up. Dead,” he enunciated every word, adding pause between them. 
Dean’s hand inched slowly behind him, his fingers found the denim of her jeans on the side of her thigh. He placed his palm flat against her side. She tried not to react, but even in the midst of everything happening in front of her, she felt butterflies flutter in her stomach–hell, they may have even done a somersault. 
“It’s better than whatever it is you’ve got planned for her,” he said firmly.
“And how would you know that?” Zachariah cocked his head, the wide grin still stretched across his face. 
Dean took a moment to glance to the side. With a small nod from Bobby, he very quickly spun towards the new prophet and wrapped his arms around her while he yelled, “Close your eyes!” With one hand on the small of her back, the other pulled her head to his shoulder. She did as he said and squeezed her eyes shut. She could hear a loud frequency sound as the angels in the room yelled–it trailed out quickly as a bright white light surrounded them. Even through closed eyes, she could feel it.
In a moment, it was over.
“You alright,” Dean’s hand pulled gently on her head to look over her features. He found the tears in her eyes and his jaw tightened. 
“I’m okay,” her voice was soft and to her ears, it sounded like she was far away–maybe even underwater. “I’m alright.” She repeated, more for her own sake than his.
Dean looked back to Bobby and Sam. The three uninvited angels were gone, but so was Castiel. “Good. Everybody else?” He eyed his brother and the older man in the wheelchair. 
“Yeah,” Sam breathed first. “Good thinking, Bobby.” He nodded towards him.
“I get a good idea e’ry once in a while,” he grumbled as he took a handkerchief and wrapped his hand where she noticed there was a gash. On the wall just next to Bobby’s wheelchair, she noticed a sigil of some kind that had been drawn on in blood. “It helps that the angels are gettin’ dumber. I thought for sure they’d have spotted me.”
“Yeah, well, let’s just be glad that didn’t happen,” Dean turned back to her again. He knew she was overwhelmed–this would be a lot for anyone. His hands reached out to hold just below her shoulders as he examined her face once more. 
“...Cas?” She managed to breathe as she looked between his eyes.
“He’ll be back eventually,” Dean explained. “It was an Enochian sigil…it’s a long story, but cliff notes: it gets rid of all angels in the room.” She managed a quick nod. “But in the meantime, we gotta lock this place down.”
“What happens when they come back?” Her voice was a little bit stronger as she tried to process. “And they…they want me dead? If I go to Heaven, I’m dead, right?” The lump of emotion bubbled back up her throat once more. Her eyes danced between Dean’s, looking for an answer. 
“Look, this is a lot,” he breathed. “We gotta hope Cas gets back here before they do. But if he doesn’t, we’ll be ready. Ain’t nobody dying tonight..”
A look of realization fell over Sam as his eyes widened. “Dean…” he trailed off as he hurried across the room to a military green duffle bag. He unzips the zipper and begins to dig before he retrieves a shiny blade with an intricate handle. He looks back to Dean and holds it up. 
“Oh, thank you, Cas,” Dean released a breath of air he had been holding in. 
“What’s that?” She looked between the brothers. 
“An angel blade,” Sam explained as he held it in front of him. “Cas put it in my bag before he zapped us back to 1978. I thought it had gotten lost, but I guess not.” He muttered as he eyed the silver. Taken back from his thoughts, he looked back at her. “It’ll kill an angel.” His jaw tightened. 
She felt her legs stumble a bit as she moved back towards the couch and let herself sit down. Her eyes tried to focus on anything around her. 
“Take a breath, girl,” Bobby’s eyes watched her, as if he knew all of the thoughts that tumbled through her brain at that moment. She rested her elbows on her knees and placed her head in her hands, her face angled towards the floor.
She didn’t have to guess this time when she felt a hand on her back–she already knew it was Dean. “I mean it, no one is dying here,” he tilted his head so her gaze found him as she looked up. She nodded, but wasn’t still entirely sold on the words that came out of his mouth. “Let’s get to work. Sigils gotta get put up.”
—-------
Hours had passed. She wasn’t allowed out of their sight, which made things interesting when she had to use the bathroom. Dean and Sam finally settled on her leaving the door cracked, but they stood just three strides beyond the bathroom door–just in case.
When she heard Dean’s cell phone ring, she nearly jumped out of her skin. “Yeah?” Dean answered quickly. The boys had told her that Castiel’s wings would be temporarily clipped after the Enochian sigil was used. It would take him sometime to get his powers back, especially since he was already running low on “angel juice” from their adventure to the 70s and back just a few hours before. “Cas, where are you?” He paused as he listened to the other end. “You’re about four hours out, can you get on a bus? Or steal a car? Or something?”
The idea of stealing a car didn’t sit well with her, but she also realized their options were limited and they had to do what they had to do. She realized pretty quickly her moral compass was going to break, if it hadn’t broken already.
“Alright, well, just get here,” Dean rubbed at the bridge of his nose with his eyes closed. “We’ll be here.” He hung up just after that. “He’s going to get on a bus…it’ll be a while.” Dean glanced around the room. 
“How long does it take for his powers to come back?” She asked carefully. 
“We don’t really know,” Sam answered. 
“We just gotta hope Chuckles and his circus monkeys don’t get theirs back first,” Dean walked to Bobby’s kitchen and opened the refrigerator. 
That didn’t sound promising to her, but honestly at this point she felt like the fact she was still breathing was a miracle in itself. 
Dean walked back into the living room as he popped the top of a beer bottle off with the fabric of his plaid button down. “You need to get some sleep,” he nodded towards her before he took a swig. 
Her mouth felt dry, but she fought back anyway. “So do you…”
For the first time since they had been back, she saw a smile tug at the corners of Dean’s lips. “You’re not wrong. But you go first. I’ll take first shift.” She noticed the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled. 
“I got a bed set-up upstairs, I figured you might need a place for a little while with everything going on,” Bobby chimed in from the corner of the room. 
“I’ll walk you up,” Dean cleared his throat and walked towards the stairs. There was nothing else to do but nod. Before she walked too far, she turned back to Bobby and Sam.
“Thank you…for, uh, for saving me,” she made sure to look both in the eyes before she dipped her head a bit. They both nodded in her direction with what looked like sympathetic smiles–she wondered if they pitied her. She tucked a strand of hair that had fallen in her face behind her ear and turned back to the stairs to follow Dean up to the guest room.
Dean opened the door to a dark room–it wasn’t much, but it was kind of Bobby to get something put together for her. She wondered if Sam and Dean had helped, since Bobby wasn’t necessarily able to from the confines of his wheelchair. There was a full-sized bed, a small nightstand with a lamp and a small dresser. It was small, but it was quaint. It helped to know she was being looked after, even if Zachariah’s words were still ringing in her ears.
“You need anything?” Dean asked quietly as he watched her walk through the doorway and examine the room he and Sam had very quickly put together before heading back in time. 
Her head shook gently from side to side as she turned to look back at him. “I’m okay, thanks Dean.” 
He nodded, but his eyes said otherwise–he didn’t believe her for a second but he hesitated on calling her out on it. “You sure? Because like I said, this is a lot for anyone. It’s okay if you’re not,” he started. “Not okay, that is…” 
He watched as her body almost trembled for a moment. She folded her arms at her elbows and crossed them across her chest. She tried to keep the dam up–but once his words were in the air, all bets were off. The dam collapsed in on her, with everything rushing out: fear, uncertainty, confusion, overwhelming amounts of information…her knees buckled as a painful sob escaped from the confines of her throat.
Dean moved in just two quick steps as his hands gripped her just above her elbows so she couldn’t fall. In one swift moment, he pulled her to his chest and wrapped his arms around her carefully.
She noticed he didn’t try to shush her or tell her not to cry. He didn’t say anything at all for a few moments as he allowed her to get it out. Her fingers clutched at the fabric of his shirt, she felt like she had to hold on for her life as she processed. 
“I can’t make a promise that everything’ll be alright,” his voice was low, but it sent a wave of calm over her—even if the message wasn’t as calming… “But I can promise that Sam and I will do everything in our power to keep you safe.”
Her breathing began to stabilize, and she felt the sobs subside a bit. Her cheeks were stained with her angry tears’ paths as she pulled back to look into his eyes. 
“I’m just…I’m trying to wrap my head around all of this, Dean,” she mumbled through a few breaths as she tried to calm herself. 
He ducked his head, his gaze left her for just a moment. “I know,” but then his eyes were back and looking at her once more. “I’m proud of you. Not many people can be thrown into this life and go through the motions of it all. Shit hits the fan in our world…a lot. But we find a way through it together. And you’re a part of that now.” She focused on the way his eyes bore into hers. Dean just wanted to make sure she was alright, and she could feel that sentiment. For Dean, he was beginning to feel the same bubbling in the pit of his stomach that she had been feeling. If he was honest with himself, he’d know he had felt that from their first meeting. But he wasn’t willing to act on it. This girl had been through hell over the last few days, the last thing he wanted to do was complicate that even more. 
But she didn’t quite see it as complicating things. Her teeth pulled at her bottom lip carefully as her eyes tried to decipher how he was feeling. “Stay?” Was the only word she could muster. 
His jaw tightened for a moment and she thought she saw a flash of want in his gaze. Her name fell from his lips in a soft whisper. 
“Dean, I just…I just don’t want to be alone,” her finger tips trailed to the rough stubble on his jaw. His muscles seemed to relax under her touch. 
“Okay,” he nodded once as he sensed the emotional turmoil she had experienced rumble in her voice. 
Without allowing another moment to pass, she reached up on the tips of her toes and closed her eyes before she gently pressed her lips to his. As she pulled back, his eyes opened and he studied her for a moment. 
Without another word exchanged, Dean followed her to the bed, her hand still held against his own. It stayed that way while he sat with her as she fell asleep.
-------------
Tags: @roseblue373 @nelachu2423 @deans-spinster-witch @lyarr24 @jackles010378 @stillhere197 @procrastination20
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sashi-ya · 1 year
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𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖙 𝖇𝖊𝖓𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖍 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖆𝖗𝖒𝖔𝖗 (part 2) +18. Vinsmoke Ichiji x F!reader
✦ part 1: Red Roses (both parts can be read independently) ✦ requested by @portgasdash for the free requests ➜ I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS. You asked me to keep the idea in mind for the next time requests are open and I did. A continuation (of sorts) of your awesome roses fic with ichiji and a fem reader who he needed to get pregnant and ended so sweetly. They succeeded and Ichiji is now a protective dad(or soon to be dad) to reader and very much likes the changes their body have gone through cause of the pregnancy. specifically what their chest can do. Kinks: pregnancy and lactation ➜ Yes!! here it is, finally! I hope you enjoy my love! ♡ ✦ tw: pregnancy. breastfeeding. vag sex. ichiji being a little more human the more time it passes. based on the fact that I do believe he has feelings like Sanji and Reiju (my theory). ✦ wc: 1.9k
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“So? What’s the result?” the red-haired demon asks, waiting with his back pressed against the door of the bathroom door.
“I can’t make it go faster, it’s still processing Ichiji-sama” you inform, sitting on the toilet with a little stick in your hand. Your leg bounces, you are way more anxious than he is. You never thought of wanting a baby from him, and much less this fast, but there you are wishing for the two little stripes to appear.
Both have decided to keep it in between you two; before even letting Judge and his scientists run the pertinent tests. A cheap test he bought during a mission, nothing sophisticated but yet enough to know.
At least three weeks have passed since he had been able to really enjoy sex for the first time, and just to be sure you get pregnant you two -secretly- kept having hot, hot encounters. Or maybe it was because your bodies were yearning for the other, burning in passion and need after tasting the honeys of a real connection.
Finally, the soft pink stains on the little strip appear. Yes. One… two. There are two. You check again. And again. And then once more.
Positive. Ichiji, you are gonna be a father.
“Uh… Ichiji-sama?” you call him. You can sense his anxiety from the outside the bathroom. He can’t wait for you to tell him; it’s been enough chivalry for him to let you take the test alone until the result came up.
“WHAT?” he opens the door, hitting it against the wall. “Sorry” he apologizes, because with you he is able to read every piece of your feelings.
You nod, a subtle smile adorning your ruby lips. “Y-yes…” you whisper, looking down at your fidgeting hands and then up to his blue eyes that widen in amazement. He doesn’t look anymore like the severe prince, but rather like a child knowing he is going to Disneyland.
“Am- gonna- Father?” he stutters. For the first time, the perfect prince lacks words to express himself.
“Yes… congrats, future King… a prince is coming ~”  you chime, still too shy to be able to move a single muscle.
It was clear to him, to you, that his attempt had been successful. However, Ichiji felt more than pride… he felt joy, something he thought he would never, ever, would feel. It wasn’t just the fact that Judge would be proud of him, it was him sharing something with that woman right before his eyes… she, with the red roses and her equally red lips had turned his world upside down… or maybe, the other way around, on a spiral that lend him to experience love.
As the astonishment leaves his mind, he runs to hug you. “I’m… you made me a father!!” he happily chimes, ripping a smile and some tears from your eyes. He does not feel like the usual cold prince, he looks like a new man. A sweet, loving man.
Ichiji lifts you up in his arms, he stays silent for some minutes. His beam, however, remains everlasting on his juicy lips. You have never seen what you are seeing now; his eyes narrow because of his cheeks coming so high as he smiles so big.
“Come on, we need to celebrate… I- what do you say when you uhm really appreciate someone?” he asks, seriously and blushed.  “Uh… you- mean… love?” you say, still amazed at him.
“Yes…? That thing…” he swallows; for the first time you see his eyes looking down.
You chose to stay silent, it’s enough for him. And not to mention how much it means to you. You weren’t sure if you were in love with him, or just spellbound by lust. But things become clearer the moment you kissed so soft his lips… you loved him too.
And what started as an agreement to help him procreate, then… weirdly enough, was just the start of something new. Of something that grew as much as your belly did…
Fast-forward to the last weeks of your pregnancy…
“But, Ichiji-sama, (Name)-sama asked us to bring her something to eat” “AND I WILL TAKE IT MY SELF. IF YOU HAVE POISONED THE FOOD I’LL DIE TOO, SO SPEAK NOW OR DIE”
The prince brings himself food for you. You have been moved -by his own request, and against Judge orders- to his room. Now, you are his princess. As the future mother of the someday next King of Germa, you should be treated like royalty and protected like nothing in this world. Ichiji made sure, and still does, that you are more than comfortable with your life in the palace.
“Ichiji, babe…I could hear your screams from the hall. Is everything ok?” you ask, sitting in bed with your hands resting on your belly but a little bit uncomfortable.
“I told them a hundred times, everything you eat I should taste it first. What’s wrong with you? Are you feeling ok?” he asks, leaving the silver platter with delicacies on it to the side.
You nod with your head; bodies change during pregnancy, and you think is normal to feel everything swollen and bloated. Including your breasts. “Yes, dear prince. It’s just that my breasts feel swollen but it’s normal. They are getting ready for the baby” you tell him, inspecting without caring for his growing smirk, the food that he brought.
He comes closer and kisses his lips; it takes your breath away. He has always managed to make you feel this way, pregnant and not pregnant.
“What?” you ask, as he keeps smiling with a sadist grin. “I’ve read that the father can help with the swelling and the pain…” he murmurs, taking his pointy nose to your cleavage. He nuzzles there, taking care of not hurting your belly but still placing his huge hands on top of it.
You narrow your eyes. What did he mean with “helping with the swelling and pain”?
“You know…I was so scared of… touching you…” he purrs, kissing your right breast. “Baby, can you share mommy with daddy for now? I’ll be gentle, I promise” he asks right at your belly, placing another kiss on top of it.
You giggle. He is being sweeter than ever, but even if so, a dark aura of lustful intentions surrounds him. He pulls down the cleavage of your blouse. “Can I make you feel better…?” he asks. When did Ichiji Vinsmoke ever asked for permission?
“I don’t know what you are planning… but, go ahead” you murmur, letting him do. He might be a murderous machine but when it comes to your safety he is obsessed. You are sure he won’t hurt you in any way.
His pale, yet juicy lips approach so slow the most sensitive parts of your breasts. His hand, squeeze softly on the side of one of them. He doesn’t provoke any pain; he gives you a caress -even if he didn’t know the term-.
You flinch, just a little. And soon you understand, exactly, what he is intending to do. You were sure milk couldn’t be produce before having the baby but turns out you were wrong. Semi-transparent milky drops fill your lover’s mouth. It’s just a little, but the moment the sweet taste of it touches Ichiji’s tongue he moans, louder than ever before.
“I- Ichiji…” you whisper, taking slowly your palm to the crown of his head. He keeps sucking, as if, the drops that were feeding him were essential for his life. The pressure you were feeling on your breasts slowly goes away, and it goes the same way down to your core.
You brush his red hair back, taking a rather motherly look, caring, and loving to his weakness showing. Because perhaps, he needed this, so deep inside of him. The prince lets his guard down, he allows himself to look less strong, vulnerable also, while attached to your chest.
 “I… you are delicious” he barely mumbles before going back to suck and devour the other nipple.
“Am I, my prince? Keep going, do it as much as you please” you whine, pushing his head against your chest. You make him grunt; you make him go harder. He bites, but it doesn’t hurt. The sharp nibbling can only make you more aroused.
And Ichiji wants more, he rips off your blouse with such force it startles you. He has never shown you such strength. “I’m sorry, but I need you naked. I promise I will go slower” he assures you, breathing so hastily. Arousal is consuming his brain, not even his peaceful mind can stop him.
Your eyes soften. “Make love to me, yes?” you dare to ask. You have never called sex this way with him. And frankly you were scared… Visnmoke Ichiji making love to a woman?
He exhales, letting the excess arousal out his mind for some seconds. He pulls down, delicately and carefully your pants and spreads your legs so that you could rest them on top of his thighs as he kneels in between them. “I will… of course I will make love to you. Are you comfortable this way?” he asks. It’s been a while since he has touched your body. Whenever your belly grew larger, he stopped approaching you like during endless nights of the first months. You really thought of him not being attracted; but you were wrong. It was how much he was attracted to the changes of your body that he was scared of hurting your baby and you.
But he can’t stop himself no more. And frankly, you can’t either.
“I am more than comfortable, daddy” you murmur, mesmerized at such change in attitude… after all, Ichiji has always been a sweet man… you only had to have the power to break such hard exoskeleton…
He lowers his pants, just enough to expose a hard, desperate, so needy sex. “I was desperate for this… all this months…” he says, showing you that he didn’t need, nor he didn’t resort to other women that wasn’t you.
You receive him in your arms, and while he slides in slow motion inside you he nests his head in your chest. Sexy, loving thrusts fill your void while you kiss his forehead. He attaches himself again to your nipples, sucking so deliciously while pumps in and on out of you.
Slowly, and surely. Steadily, and constantly. His breath warming your saliva coated breasts, the tiny semi white drop running from the commissure of his mouth, the way you both spasm… ecstasy, rapture. Exploding in orgasmic kisses, hastily breathing, filling you up, coming so gloriously…
“Are you ok? Does anything hurt? You want me to bring the doctor?” he asks, as he rests with his cheek squeezed against your belly.
“I’m totally fine. You took care of me like anybody could have. Thank you so much” you whisper, tracing circles with your palm on his bruised back. He had been trying to get a lot stronger to protect his coming child, you can tell.
“I’m glad I didn’t hurt you… is your swelling better?” he inquires, shyly. His cheeks becoming almost as red as his hair. Who would have known a Vinsmoke prince is able to blush that way?
You smile. Your swelling is indeed better, you feel a lot more relaxed… because you have chosen the right daddy…
A heartless prince they say, not for you, of course. But underneath that strong armor, his heart all, belongs to you ~
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3mcwriting · 1 year
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Regret, Part 2: Moving On
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Regret Masterlist
Warnings: Language, references to sex, alcohol consumption
Synopsis: Your boyfriend, Steve Rogers, the lead singer of the internationally famous band "The Avengers" was a fan-favorite. From his chiseled muscles to his movie-star smile to his old-fashioned manners, everyone loved him. But you were okay with that. Because he would never cheat on you. Right? Well...
~~
"Come on girl, get up," Nat said, hitting you with a pillow. "We're going out tonight and I'll drag you out of here by your ankles if I have to."
You groaned, turning over and staring at the ceiling. "Whyyyy?"
"Because you've been sulking for 2 months, you need a fun night to party and get over that asshole," she announces, planting her hands on her hips. "Plus you haven't even gone to work and I've used up all of my self-control to not beat up that dick and that she-demon."
"I think I'm aloud to sulk after finding out my boyfriend of 3 years cheated on me with a woman I thought was my friend," you pointed out. "Besides, I'm still getting al my work done. It's just...remotely getting it done- Which, can you blame me? I see both of them at work."
Her eyes softened. "Honey, I know. But I think going out and just letting loose for a night will be good for you. Plus, who knows? You might just meet a hot person who all you want is for them to-"
You threw a pillow at her, effectively cutting off whatever innuendo she was about to say.
She smiled. "So...does that means you're going?"
"I don't have much of a choice, now do I?" you asked, already knowing the answer.
"Nope." Nat said, popping the 'p'.
"Ugh, I don't like you sometimes," you muttered, finally getting off of your ruffled bed.
"Nah, you know you love me," she said with a wink.
You threw another pillow at her.
•••••
Two hours later and you had finally found an outfit Nat deemed acceptable. It was simple, comfortable, but still suitable enough for a club. You let her do your makeup, knowing that her deft hands were much better than yours.
You groaned "Why did I agree to this?"
"You didn't have much of a choice," Natasha said, checking her phone. "Ok, now, come on. We're going."
When the two of you arrived you quickly got out of the Uber and looked at the hulking structure in front of you. Nat pulled you inside, immediately heading to the bar. You sat down on one of the stools, your best friend ordering two shots of straight vodka.
"Cheers," you told her, quickly downing the drink in the hope it would make the night slightly more bearable. You winced, the liquid burning as it slid down your throat. You tried to relax, to just focus on the music.
You turned to Nat.
"Wanna dance?" She asked, downing another shot and dragging you to your feet.
"I have a feeling this is another thing I don't have a choice in," you said, voice barely discernible as you began walking with her onto the dance floor.
"Your feeling is right!" Nat yelled as she began dancing. You closed your eyes, moving along to the music.
"I'm gonna grab us some more drinks!" you yelled over the crowd.
You were pretty sure she hadn't heard you, too focused on the gorgeous woman who had begun dancing with her. As the woman got closer and closer to Nat and you saw her wrap her arms around the other woman's neck, you grinned.
At least one of you was having fun, you thought as you nursed the glass of soda in your hands.
"I'll take a whiskey on the rocks," a tall man with bleached hair and gorgeous silver-blue eyes told the bartender, a faint accent detectable. "And what would you like, love?"
"No thanks," you told him, slightly surprised he was talking to you. "I got my drink."
"Gin and tonic?" he asked.
"Just soda."
"Just soda?" he questioned, a smirk on his face. "You're at a club and you got plain soda?"
"Well, I gotta take care of my friend," you explained, sipping at your drink.
"Ah, designated driver?" He slid onto the stool beside you, propping his face on his palm as he looked at you curiously.
"Kinda," you told him, shrugging a little.
Normally Nat got too wasted for you to let her get herself home and she didn't like waking up in strangers beds. Plus, it wasn't exactly safe to be by yourself as an inebriated woman trying to get home. So normally around 2, you'd drag her out of the club and she'd eat all your ice cream then pass out on your couch.
"So, you can't drink, but how about a dance?" Accented voice like honey.
"Why not?" you said, standing up with him.
He grabbed your hand, gently pulling you to the dance floor. "So...what's your name, gorgeous?" He put his hands on your hips as you moved along to the beat of the music.
"No names, that's too serious," you told him, memories popping up that you hurriedly pushed to the back of your mind. You just wanted to get lost in the moment.
"Names are too serious?" he asked with a chuckle.
"Yup."
You closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling of his body moving so close to your own. His arms slid further around your waist but never going too far south as he pulled you almost flat against him, both of you still dancing. With the newfound closeness, every little sway or bump was felt by the both of you.
"Well, is dancing like this too serious?" You shivered at his low voice whispering into your ear, your breath hitching as soft lips brushed your neck when his head dipped down.
"Dancing is all fun."
Your voice was a lot more breathless than you'd like to admit.
"And your name?"
"Giving you my name gives you trust, however little. And my trust seems to be in short supply recently." You let out a laugh, the noise harsh.
"Well, whoever cheated on you is a damned idiot," he declared, a soft kiss brushing your cheek.
"How did you know?"
"A beautiful woman sitting at the bar in a club, sipping a coke while watching her friend have the time of her life. An incredibly handsome man approaches said woman asking for her name and receives a response of, 'no names, that's too serious.'" He raised an eyebrow at you. "Then proceeds to say that her trust is in short supply. An asshole did you wrong and I have no problem with giving you a good time." His voice was firm, a promise held in those words.
Before you could realize what was happening, he was fluidly spinning you to face him and dipping his head down to capture your lips with his.
Your eyes shut as you wound your arms around his neck, gently tugging at the soft hair at his nape as he deepened the kiss. As you moved your lips against his silky ones, you could taste the whiskey on him as his tongue slid into your parted lips. You tugged at his hair a little harder than you meant to, causing a low groan to rumble from him.
The moment shattered as a loud crash rang out along with a yell from a familiar voice.
"All of you asshole in the crowd who are cheaters better watch out or I'm gonna beat your ass!"
Your eyes snapped open, quickly stepping away from the man as you searched for your friend. Not searching long, you found her standing on the bar throwing her heels at the security guards who were rushing to pull her down.
Well shit.
"I gotta go," you told the man, rushing to your friend.
"Come on, Tasha, let's go home," you said, gently easing her off the bar.
"Yay! Ice cream! But first we gotta beat all those fuckeeeers and then we get ice cream."
"Sorry Nat, no beating the fuckers tonight," you told her, a pout appearing on her face.
•••••
"Ugh, I should've just called in sick today, my head feels like shit." Natasha groaned as the two of you walked out of the elevator. "
"Uh uh, there's no way in hell I'm facing them for the first time since the breakup without my best friend," you told her, dragging her along with you as you walked to the auditions room where two new people were trying out for the band.
"You seem a lot better than I thought- Wait, did you sleep with someone last night?!" Natasha asked loudly, making you shush her quickly when several sets of eyes turned to the two of you.
"No, I did not sleep with anyone last night-" you hesitated, "-just your idea to go to the club wasn't as bad as I thought."
"So you did sleep with someone!"
"Would you shut up a bit, Nat?" Your eyes darted around, very aware of the other people who could hear the conversation. "I didn't sleep with a man...I just had a really good kiss."
"Ooh, a really good kiss?" Her eyes glinted. "What's he look like?"
"He looks like..,"
"Hey! Don't stop! Tell me what this mystery man looks like."
"Turn around and you'll see," you told her as your eyes met a set of silver blue ones.
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milliedazzledust · 2 years
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The Devil and I Get Along Just Fine (Bucky Barnes imagine)
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Request: Bucky had just been rescued by the Avengers. Now he has to go through tests to show just how much the serum has changed him, emotionally and physically. Neither the Avengers, nor the reader truly realize just how much the soldier is tired to fight
Words: 2.8k
Warning: heavy talk of PTSD
A/N: so this was a story I had already posted but I felt like there was more to write, more depth and emotions to explore - I hope you'll like it!
“How did you sleep ?”
“Fine” She knew he was lying. The man barely slept and on the rare occasion he did, his demons were quick to change into nightmares. He would never tell her that, and she would never allow herself to ask. 
“Ready for today ?” She chose to say instead.
Bucky sat at the end of his bed, in his own bedroom, inside a gigantic building he hadn’t really wanted to live in. He kept staring at his clasped hands, trying to force his own mind to shut down his anxiousness. 
“Not really,” He sincerely whispered.
The woman sighed and knelt down in front of him. She gently stroked his forearms, trying to somehow appease him.
“Do you trust me ?” 
“You know I do, Y/N” He replied with the hint of a smile.
“Then trust I won’t let anything happen to you” She squeezed his hands. She had a distinctive smell, a mix of the shampoo she used and the perfume on her skin. It had become a scent he associated with peace and reality. “C’mon, Buck. Time to go”
It would have been an understatement to say he didn’t want to. Every part of him was scared of how this day would go. He silently followed her nonetheless as she led him to the basement floor of the building. It had been designed by Stark and almost looked like a hospital. Him and Dr.Banner were spending much of their time there. That day, they had been charged to test Bucky in order to fix his arm and check on his health. 
He never acknowledged Tony or Bruce as he walked inside the examining room. He surprised himself thinking it was a lot cleaner than what he had been accustomed to. No wires, no massive machine, no device to hold his head in a deafening grip, yet his first instinct was to memorize each and every exit. 
“We’ll start with your arm” Dr.Banner instructed him. The soldier was already in his own world, his mind miles away. It was a trick he had learned long ago, a palace he had created to escape the pain. He knew the doorways by heart, he had built them. A real labyrinth nobody but him could go in, the perfect hiding place. He knew his body could take any hit, so long as his mind remained intact. 
“Buck” Y/N delicately called, bringing his attention back to her. He reminded her of a scared animal when he glanced up at her. 
“Do they need to remove it ?” He talked quietly, almost as if he was scared Tony and Bruce would hear him.
“Yeah” She answered with a frown, knowing he would be uncomfortable. “But it won’t hurt”
He didn’t believe her, how could he ? He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to refocus, forcing his muscles to stop acting by memory. The adrenalin was already coursing through his veins, anticipating a fight or flight response he knew wouldn’t come.  
“Alright” He resigned himself and laid back on the gurney, clenching his fists in an attempt to stop his body from twitching. 
“I’m gonna need you to leave the room, Y/N” Tony informed her.
She shook her head, categorically refusing as she kept her gaze on the man. “He needs me” 
“It’s alright” Bucky muttered without even looking at her. “I’ll be fine”
He didn’t see the way she bit her lips, didn’t see the expression of worry on her face. Her eyes trailed down his figure, watching him sink into his seat, almost as if he was expecting pain to be inflicted at any point. She dropped her head and with a sigh left the room, left him drifting into one of the dark and gloomy corners of his mind. 
Tony and Bruce weren’t really hurting him, only doing basic analysis and checking his vitals, yet every touch felt heavy, eliciting goosebumps all over his skin. His senses were heightened, his brain ringing a fire alarm he couldn’t ignore. He had learned long ago the best way to endure torture was to lay still and silently wait for it to be over. So, as his entire body froze, he waited. 
“We are done, sergeant Barnes” Dr.Banner said after a while, giving him a sympathetic nod of comfort. 
The soldier drew in a small breath and turned his head to look back at the doctor. “What now ?”
“We’ll need to test the arm once you’ve gotten used to it” Stark stated, typing on a computer. “For now it’s just about your everyday life - two hands is better than one. We’ll see later how you can adjust in a fight”
Bucky pursed his lips, biting back venomous words he wanted to shout back. He had no intention of fighting ever again, just like he had no intention of surrendering his will to choose to do so. 
Steve was next, waiting for him in the training room. Y/N was there too, afraid he would not handle the weight of yet another minute spent using skills that weren’t really his. 
“What is this ?” The wounded man asked, his eyes roaming across the room.
The Captain carefully looked back at him before answering. “Can’t really put you back out there without testing your… abilities first” 
Before them were several kinds of weapons, firearms and knives mostly, set on a large table. They all knew he didn’t want to do this but needed to be sure they could rely on him when the time would come. They all knew what Hydra handy-man was capable of. The only catch was that using those skills as Bucky Barnes would be very different than using them as the Winter Soldier. The man felt too much, the assassin too little. 
“We’ll start with the guns. They are all in pieces. I’ll put a timer - take as much time as you need to reassemble each parts” Steve explained.
Bucky cast an unsure look at Y/N but she forced a smile on her face and nodded at him. She was standing nearby, her arms crossed, concerned he might snap under the unnecessary pressure. She had been against this whole idea, deeming it was too soon for him to jump back into business. He needed therapy, not training. 
The former soldier only took a second to observe and analyze what was in front of him. Without thinking, he started to assemble each piece together. There were eighteen different kinds of firearms in total, for which he took less than two minutes to rebuild. All from muscle memory he didn't know he possessed.
Once he was done, Steve asked him to show them what he was capable of doing with knives. Each time he threw them, they landed exactly on the target, precisely where he wanted them to. Whichever the shape or size of the weapon he was using, his hands seemed familiar with it.
His companions were watching from afar, taken aback by his speed and agility, but most of all by the lack of expressions on his face. He was stone cold and detached, doing what was expected of him without any care in the world. There was no denying he had been trained to kill.
“That’s… impressive” The Captain conceded. “Better than most”
The compliment fell flat on Bucky and he waited for them to give him the next instructions.
“What more do you need to evaluate ?” He mumbled, almost annoyed. He was exhausted, he needed to rest. 
“You were injected with the infinity formula, which we know now slows down the way you age” The Captain told him.
“Cryo helped” Bucky muttered under his breath, avoiding to look back at his friend.
“What else did it alter ?” 
He crossed his arms, not wanting to elaborate. He felt naked under prying eyes. “Mostly strength, speed and reflexes” He still vividly remembered the brutal violence he used to force secrets out of his targets, sometimes could even still feel the blood on his hands.   
“Healing too” The Sergeant reluctantly added.
Steve suddenly seemed very interested.
“How so ?” 
From the corner of her eyes, Y/N saw Bucky tensed. She knew he wasn’t ready to share that part of his story yet. 
“I… don’t think now is a good time for this, Steve”
He wanted to push the issue but she shook her head, efficiently silencing him. 
“Are we done now ?” The former soldier had had enough. 
The Captain sighed. “I’m only trying to help, Buck” 
His friend was quick to answer. “I know. But getting me back on the battlefield is the worst way to do it”
Steve knew he was right. 
“Can I go ?” The former soldier pushed one more time, looking back between them. His voice was barely a whisper, filled with apprehension. He had been taught the hard way to follow commands without a second thought, without questions.
“You are not forced to do anything you don’t want to” Y/N gently reminded him. “The choice is yours alone”
“Should have started with that” He grumbled.
He left them there and went back to his room. Spending his whole day being looked at under a microscope had been a burden for him. They knew how the Winter Soldier came to be and figuring out how he changed the man underneath could prove to be of great help. That much he understood, but it didn’t make anything easier. He could heal quicker than most, move faster, handle any weapons as he pleased, yet remained incapable of using his own mind. What good could a set of skills do if controlled by a damaged system ?
He had intended to choose a book from his small collection and read until exhaustion finally caught up with him when somebody knocked. He knew already who it was before she had entered the room.  
“Are you alright ?” Y/N leaned on his door with a concerned expression on her face.
He snorted without humor and raised his head to look at her “You need to stop asking”
“That would mean stop worrying about you” She shrugged as she walked inside and sat on the bed next to him. “You know I can’t do that”
They didn’t talk for a while, enjoying the comforting proximity. Y/N had been a rock for him throughout all the adjustments he had had to make. She understood the loneliness and the devastation brought by his newfound identity.
“I tried to tell them it was too soon” She efficiently cut the silence in a whisper.
“They want me back out there” He guessed.
She shook her head. “No, Buck. They want to understand what Hydra did to you”
“Why ?” He turned to look at her, eyes filled with questions. 
“Steve thinks they can find a way to heal you” She confessed. 
“Heal me ?” He repeated, arching an eyebrow in bewilderment.
She took a deep breath and let herself fall back on his bed, absently staring at the ceiling. “I told them it was useless. It’s not your body that needs help”
“Y/N…” He warned her, standing up to put his book back on the shelf.
“I know you don’t want me to say it, Bucky, but seeing you like this is truly horrifying”
He pursed his lips and clasped his hands together. She saw the movement from the corner of her eyes and knew it meant he was done talking. He had the habit of shutting everyone down once he deemed the conversation too uncomfortable. 
“It’s like… you’re constantly standing on the verge of a cliff, overlooking memories that bring you nothing but guilt and pain. Hydra is long gone but you still live with them”
“You should leave” His voice was firm. 
She sighed and sat back up, looking right at him. “No. Not this time”
“What is this ?” He clenched his jaw, flipping his hand in the air. “What are you doing ?”
She rubbed her eyes in exasperation. “I’m getting you to talk”
A dark chuckle escaped his lips. “So what, now you’re my therapist too ? Is that what this is ?”  
He was slowly losing his patience, she could see it. 
“Bucky, I know this isn’t easy for you…”
“You don’t” He cut her in a sharp tone, his nostrils flaring almost in anger. “So please, please, Y/N I need you to stop pushing” 
She stood up and took deliberate slow steps toward him, almost afraid to scare him away. 
“I can’t” She whispered, shaking her head. “I need to help”
“This isn’t helping” Y/N raised her hand and before she could even reach his cheek, he gently grabbed her wrist and pushed her away. He saw how much the rejection hurt her but chose not to say anything.
“It’s been weeks, Bucky” She tried to explain. “And I really thought you were making progress and getting better. But clearly it’s getting worse again” 
“Worse ?” He repeated in a hysterical chuckle. He had talked with so much animosity she felt compelled to take a step back. “You think this is worse ?” 
She could see a whole spectrum of anger displaying on his face. He covered his mouth with his hand and started pacing around the room. That single word alone had attacked him in a way she hadn’t anticipated. He looked like a cage animal, trying to repress whatever emotions had hit him. 
“Bucky…”
“There wasn’t even a better to begin with!” He shouted, voice filled with so much emotion it made her involuntarily flinch. “No, no, no, Y/N, I’m not getting worse again. This was never temporary, this is how it’s been for as long as I can remember”
He closed the distance between them so fast she barely saw him moving. They were inches apart and every muscle in his face was contorted with rage. 
“I’m exhausted, do you get that ? I’m so fucking exhausted of pretending so congratulation, Y/N, you’re sitting front row to see the shit show! You wanted to know what was inside my head ? Hm ?” He pointed an accusing finger at his skull, hitting himself repeatedly. His bloodshot eyes were wide open and he hadn’t realized he had started crying. “This is it! It’s getting worse again for you, but nothing ever changed for me. I live in hell every single fucking hour of every single fucking day. The moment I stop pretending is the moment you get to witness the tip of the iceberg. But you’ll never see it all, never. Because if you did, you wouldn’t even comprehend how I’m still alive” 
She tried once again to close the distance and touch him but he didn’t let her and backed away.
“This isn’t getting worse again” His voice cracked in a whisper. “You’ve seen nothing” 
When finally his eyes landed on hers, he realized she was sobbing. She had silently taken every single blow of rage that had been aimed at no one but himself. This is what he had been afraid all along, for her to see how much damages there was to uncover. 
“I woke up in a world that wasn’t mine anymore” He said after taking a couple of deep breaths. “And today, you were all acting like I should’ve been proud to know how to fire a gun, or throw a knife, or handle a fight. But all this ? It came with a cost. You have to get that”
“I do” She murmured. “I’m sorry I can’t take your pain away, Bucky”
He sadly smiled at her. “I never ask you to”
With a long sigh, he let his body fall back on his bed and clasped his hands together. “I wanted to rip my own heart out every time I was allowed a shred of sanity. There was this… peephole inside my own brain, this tiny window from which I was able to witness what the Winter Soldier was capable of doing. It was always… always so… brutal”
He stopped for a moment, the emotions once again too violent to handle all at once.
“But sanity never lasted too long. I ended up on that same chair, strapped down, my head bare for them to wipe. Just like that, back to square one. To oblivion” He shook his head. “Now I’m not sure how to handle memories I share with an assassin. Where do I end and where does he begin ?” 
She swore she had never seen a man looking so broken. This time when she closed the distance between them he let her. She kneeled down in front of him and took his hands on her own. 
“We’ll take it one day at a time”
“It might take a while” 
She softly brushed the tear rolling down his cheek, watching him closing his eyes and relishing on the small and intimate touch between them.
“I’m willing to wait”
“I might never get the old me back”
“That was never the goal, Buck. We move forward, use all the pieces to create a new version you’ll be comfortable to live with”
“I like that idea” He smirked.
She leaned forward and tenderly kissed his forehead, sealing in that gesture the promise she would stay and fight for his sanity.
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@kmuir1​ - @highland1124-blog
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drottni · 11 months
Text
LBFAD Rewatch Part 10
1. When your cheap ass friend starts becoming generous and your immediate thought is "is she broken? Is she possessed ?"
2. Okay can we just talk about the creativity of the "shes deeply in love with me and thats why the Bone Orchid is killing her" arch. Like the way they stitched that in there so we could have the whole "I have to get her to hate me " angst. *chef kisses*
3. Xunfeng: Wait so the Moon Queen is not going to live long?
DFQC: Over my dead body >:(
Xunfeng: Or....hear me out. Over HER dead body! Eh? Eh!
DFQC: *jail for Xunfeng*
4. Xunfeng: I cannot give you the sword. You will destroy it. You are the last hope for the Moon tribe
DFQC: *angry exasperated face* If one more person says that to me---
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5. Xunfeng kicking DFQC while he is down:
Me: You little menace.
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6. Idk how many times I will gush over his acting, but ya'll. Wang Hedi looked soooo genuinely torn. Like his facial muscles rippling with checked anger. His tight grip loosening as Xunfeng's words start to hit home. The rippling anguish in his eyes as he realizes just what he is doing and how much of a risk he is taking. God.
7. Omg the absolute hell ish pressure cooker my poor baby DFQC is in. Like ya'll imagine everyone relying on you and just trusting in you to handle the enemy cuz you got mad crazy powers and you have to sit there and not have a panic attack because you no longer have the mad crazy powers and you will most likely lose either your people or the person you love. OOOH GOD. Get him out of there! I got second hand panic attacks watching this
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8. XLH: Im gonna make the Phoenix Crown out of the flowers Big Blockhead planted for me when I came to Cangyan sea.
Jieli: You're such a romantic you dweeb. Loser -_- (I love you, you beautiful innocent soul)
9. XLH: I dont care who I was. All that matters now is I will be his wife *blush*
Me:
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10. DFQC giving her an out. Telling her she still has time to save herself before the war. Hoping that she does leave but also that she doesn't. Her barely holding back tears as she continues to discuss the wedding. Both of them losing their shit as the reality sets in. AAAHHHHHH 😭😭 Reminding each other of their promise. "Whatever happens, we face it together". (him also realizing at this point the absolute betrayal hes going to have to put her through) omg.
11. If your demon hubby doesn't sit by your bedside while you sleep despite having 1001 and other things to look after, namely a whole ass war...drop him. DFQC supremacy.
12. "In this world what is real and what is fake? I only know that I love DFQC, that is real. It is more than enough" >>>>>>>>> any other love confession
13. DFQC: Because I know them well. One was my bestfriend. The other was the woman I wanted to marry.
Me on my first watch: was? WAS?? WAASSS?!? WHAT DO YOU MEAN?
14. THE THUNDEROUS SKY AS HE DOES THE TERRIBLE ACT OF BETRAYAL.
15. XLH: this food is the one I hate. THIS RIGHT HERE is going too far.
she's just like me fr. dont mess with food.
16. DFQC about to sacrifice his body, soul and spirit to save his people.
XLH: *in danger*
DFQC: Sacrifice is canceled. We are saving the love my of life. Again.
17. I dont even have words for that scene. Never getting over that. (actually i have words and they are too many.)
18. I just wanna say that in my first watch, I did not process that she actually died for the longest time. Despite the whole setup and slow mo. I just kept thinking nahhh DFQC going to think of something and save her. Aint no way he letting her die.
With this thought in my mind, I just imagine how it must have felt for him. How absolutely helpless and devastated. 😭
19. My mans out here straight up suicidal and burning his primordial spirit faster and faster, getting irritated with all his bros for trying to give him their primordial spirit 🥲🥲
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srorgana1 · 7 months
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Invocation
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Paring: Vampire Kylo/Hunter Rey
Warnings: Dark Themes (apporaching Dead Dove, you have been warned), Supernatural/Paranormal, Blood, Violence, Gore, Death, NSFW 18+, Sexual Content, Psychological and Physical Torture, Kidnapping, Hatred towards organized religion, Pain, Major/Minor character death/injury, Demonic Possession
Chapter Eighteen
Rey shifts on her feet, unable to concentrate. The meeting is going on around her but she is so overwhelmed. She can feel each person’s magical signature swirling around them along with the magical protections in the room. She shakes her head, trying to make sense of it all. She feels like an exposed wire. How does Kylo live like this…
She feels Jyn focus on her. She squeezes her eyes shut, utterly embarrassed. “Hunter Johansson, can you come with me please?” she hears Jyn say, pushing a wave of calming energy her way. Her cheeks flame as she turns and follows her superior.
As soon as they enter her office, Rey is shocked to feel Jyn’s small hand touch her face. Her breath catches in her throat as calming waves of energy envelop her. She can feel her muscles relaxing as she slumps against Jyn’s hand. “You poor thing, what happened?” Jyn said softly.
Rey took a deep breath and raised her head to meet Jyn’s eyes. “Kylo figured out my necklace was deterring my powers. I asked him to free me and he did. Then before we could do anything we got slammed with Asher’s message and…” “Okay, it’s okay Rey, this happens, please sit down” Jyn says soothingly as she leads her to one of her plush wine colored chairs.
Rey sits down gingerly as Jyn takes the other chair. “Rey, what’s happening is unfortunately normal for those like us. It’s a constant battle to keep your senses and powers in check” she says as she magicks tea and some finger sandwiches onto the table between them.
“I don’t know what to do Jyn. I just feel so much” Rey says as she fights tears. “While I agree with Kylo in freeing you, the timing is not ideal. You should have been taught to build your shield prior but that’s water over the bridge now” Jyn says sighing, empathetic for the young woman in front of her.
“I’ll give you a choice Rey” she says rubbing her hand softly “you can train with Kylo or I can contact Professor Yoda. He has helped plenty of people learn to control their powers. But it’s up to you.” She gives Rey time, silently apprising her true form. Jyn’s eyes follow the delicate gold lines decorating her exposed skin up to her chin, her hazel eyes now ringed with a small band of gold. She almost looks ethereal.
She hears Rey take a shaky breath. “Kylo” the young woman whispers “I want Kylo”. Jyn nods as she hands Rey a teacup. “Let me message Windu and let him know the plan but as of now I am taking you and him off the investigation until you are ready. Is that okay with you?” she says as she stands. She watches Rey nod as she turns to grab her phone. “Thank you Jyn” she hears Rey say, her voice slightly stronger this time.
Jyn smiles, returning quickly to her seat with her phone. “You’re welcome Rey. I personally feel it’s right for you to do this with him. It’s obvious your powers are responsive to his.” She smirks as he sees Rey’s cheeks redden at her words as she quickly types out a message to Kylo. She rereads it quickly and hits send. Looking up, she is pleased to see Rey has grabbed a sandwich and is nibbling on the corner.
“He is on his way” she says, grabbing herself a sandwich as well. Rey smiles as she swallows “I know, I can feel him.” Good, Jyn things as she drinks her tea, nurture the connection, make it strong. Become one, as Mara said.
A knock echoes loudly against the door. “That was quick” Jyn says with a smile as she heads towards the door. She sees Rey run her hands down her shirt and pants, trying to make herself more presentable. Cute. She opens the door to a large looming Vampire anxiously shifting on his feet.
She fights rolling her eyes as she ushers him in and shuts the door behind him. His eyes immediately lock onto Rey sitting before him. “Kylo, effective immediately you and Hunter Johansson are temporarily removed from the investigation so you can assist her in learning to control and harness her powers.” Two sets of eyes immediately look at her.
“But what if…” Kylo says. “We will update you of any urgent developments, but the most important thing right now is her” Jyn says, nodding at Rey. “Remember what Mara said. How the connection be vital to ending this once and for all” she says as she turns and opens the door for them.
She watches Kylo walk up to Rey and offer his hand. She blushes and takes it, standing slowly. Their magick swirls as one around them. “Kylo, take her to the underground bunker. Code is 9-9-2-1-6-8. I sent directions to your phone. Take all the time you need.”
“Thank you Jyn” he says, wrapping an arm around Rey’s shoulders. Jyn nods, watching Kylo lead Rey out. She shuts the door behind them and grabs her teacup. She paces, full of unresolved tension. This has to work.
She looks over at the small picture frame on her desk. The photo of her and a tall, slim dark haired man stare back at her. “I promise you Cassian, it will work. No one else will suffer like you did” she whispers as she takes her seat behind her desk. She kisses her fingertips and quickly presses them to the glass before removing them to open her laptop, allowing her programs to load before getting back to work.
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Champagne problems
Masterlist
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Parings: CEO! Bucky x reader, Bucky x Dot.
Warnings: little 18+ thoughts so MINORS DNI, angst, depressive thoughts.
Notes: Bold and italic ones are thought. Only italic ones are memories.
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As you were laughing with her and playing with her hair like you used to do with mine, I sat at the table across you watching you and her laughing.
I smiled at the scene in front of me as if I am happy but inside I knew I was dying. As if slowly, each of my petals of once bright flower dying like my hopes for getting your love back.
I looked back at the champagne glass in my hand. I remember the day I lost all your love. The day, I broke your trust and hope as if nothing. The day, when you also lost trust in love. That day, I lost everyone who loved me. The day, my bright life came to an end. Just because I was scared... 'Scared' that's all I was. Just to lose everything in my life.' Scared' thinking everything's gonna change. 'Scared' to be a failure... 'Scared' to say yes that day... If only I was brave enough...
Today is Bucky's parent's anniversary. Even though I know his family hated me, Bucky's love and support are always there to back me up. I smiled at the thought of how Buck always assures me that his never-ending love will always be there for me. I am a sensitive girl who always gets easily affected by what others think. My inner demons always made it hurt to get rid of the dark thoughts. I always felt suffocated thinking about what others are going to think. Every time I used to go out to parties and other social gatherings, it felt like everyone's eyes are on me judging me, talking about me behind my back. But after getting Buck, I don't remember the last time I worried about that cause he was always there with me no matter what.
I smiled and hummed as if I got myself ready for the anniversary party. I looked at myself to check out if anything was missing. But was interrupted by a sudden knock at the door.
-"Honey, Are you read? Can I come in?" Bucky asked from the other side of the door indicating that it was time.
-"Yeah, one sec please!" I replied.
I checked myself again in the mirror and smirked. I opened the door revealing Buck with his black suit and a few buttons undone. 'Jesus! This man is gonna be the death of me. He is a walking sex god.' I thought as I drooled over the tightness of the shirt as if with a slight movement, the shirt is gonna be ripped. His bulging muscles and biceps make my thigh clench at thought of the things I wanna do.
I snapped out of my thoughts when u felt a little bit of drool at the corner of my lips. I acted as if I wasn't just openly eye fucking my boyfriend. I noticed that Bucky was in no mood of hiding what he was thinking. The way he was eyeing my whole dress out as if he just wanna ditch the party and fuck me until I am begging mess squirming under him begging him to fuck me harder.
-' God! He and his thoughts, the most dangerous things in the world ready to make every woman weak on their knees just for him' I gulped as his now dark blue eyes, filled with lust and desire, flicked up to meet mine.
I smirked at the thought of how much effect I have got on this man.
-"So, should we go, sir?" I asked innocently with my big doe eyes as if I just haven't used his weakness on him just now. He was feral like a hungry wolf whenever he heard me calling him 'sir'.
- "You are playing a dangerous game doll. You and I both know about that. But leave it, cause today's an important day for me and I don't want anyone to become an obstacle, not even you baby." He replied as he engulfed my hand in his intertwining his large rough fingers with mine.
As we arrived at his parent's place, for some reason my mind was screaming for me to turn back. I gulped down the lump forming in my throat nervously as I felt my hand clenching the purse tightly. But soon, I felt safe as Buck again touched my hand to calm down my nerves. I smiled a little assuring him I was okay. I took a deep breath as we got out of the car.
As soon as we entered his parent's house, I came across the judgemental looks of others looking me up and down as if I don't fit with them. I halted in steps to take in the view. I felt my whole body burning to turn around. I didn't know I was having a slight panic attack until I felt a warm hand on my back and his concerned voice asking me to breathe and if I was okay. I looked up at him and nodded.
-Suddenly we were interrupted by his mother's voice coming towards us "Oh! My child! You are looking dashing. I bet every girl here looking forward to spending the night with you."
I felt my body tensing at her last sentence. She said it so casually as if I am not even there. I felt my fist clenching at the thought of how I am not fit in this environment. My inner demons were again laughing at me mocking me for how unworthy I was of him.
-"Well, mom! Of course, there is a girl whom I love to spend my night with and that's my girlfriend Y/n." He said as he took in my hand and smiled at his mom.
I smiled at her greeting her.
-"oh! I didn't even notice you there. Y/n, you are also here. I am glad you came here. I hope you enjoy this party." She said as she put on a fake smile as if she is happy to see me.
-"oh! I forgot Buck. Mr Johnson wanted to meet you and I am sure you have already impressed him as his beautiful loving daughter Dot admires you very much. Why don't you go and meet them and talk to Dot?" She said as she turned her eyes to Bucky.
-"ok! Then, Y/n let's go." He extended his hand toward me.
And when I was going to take his hand, his mother suddenly l kept her hand on mine and said " aww. Buck! I know you love your girlfriend. But, boy! Let me also talk to her. You guys rarely come here. Let me have some time with her so that I can improve our relationship to mother-daughter one"
I tensed at that. 'No, no! Please don't leave me here. No! Please. Don't go please.' I looked at Bucky giving him tight-lipped smile.
-"Umm... Okay! Y/n. You will be okay, right?" He asked with his concerned voice.
-' No! No! I will not be okay' "yeah, I will be. You go and meet them" I smiled.
He nodded and went to meet them. As soon as he was gone, his mother turned toward me and said "Oh! Y/n I would love it if you meet my friends. They wanna have a look at my son's girlfriend."
'Look?' I scoffed at the thought. I know what she meant. She also wanted to show others how unfit I was for this environment. She wanted to show me that I am lucky that all these people are even looking at and judging me. But I smiled and nodded.
As soon as we met her friends, I felt as if I am a rabbit in this Wolf's den. 'Jesus! She meant it when she said they wanna have a look'. The way they looked at me with their judgemental disgusted eyes made me feel suffocated. Still, I greeted each of them politely.
-"So, she is the one huh! mm... What does your family own and what do you do ,darling?" One of her friends asked.
But soon I was interrupted by Bucky's mother who said laughing "Oh! They own nothing. Her father is just a simple government worker and her mother is just a housewife and she is just in (y/j). Nothing at all. Right, Darling? "
I nodded at her words. I felt so pathetic among them. I couldn't even defend my parents. What a daughter am I! I felt ashamed of myself that I was so helpless.
-"oh! By the way, my daughter, Dot, saw your son James and after she returned she just couldn't stop talking about him of how much of an eye candy your son is" Another one said.
-"oh yeah! My son is very handsome. But unfortunately, he is taken. What can we do! I know that your daughter would have been a perfect partner for my son. Just look at them they already look so perfect talking and laughing as if they were just made for each other. They would have been such a great couple if only he wasn't taken by just someone" She replied not bothered that her son was just considered as 'eye candy' in front of her.
I was shocked by her behaviour. How can she not be bothered! James is so much more than that. He deserves everything. He is not just eye candy. I clenched my jaw at the thought. I didn't care how much they disgrace me but at least don't disgrace James. I felt suffocated. I wanted to go home.
-"oh! Come on! Stop it. But yeah my daughter is just so talented and beautiful. No one can compete with her. She has never lost any competition. So, many men have proposed to her but she said that she only wants Bucky. " said Mrs Johnson.
I just couldn't handle it. I had to get out of this. I could feel tears forming in my eyes. Suddenly my thoughts were interrupted when the lights were out and light focused on my figure only.
I looked here and there of getting some hint of what was happening. I panicked but then another light focused on another person. Bucky, was kneeling on one knee with a small box revealing his mother's diamond ring.
-"God created everything to perfection, but I suspect that when God created you, he was showing off. I’d be honoured to show you off too by making you mine. With this ring, I give you my heart. I promise that from this point forward, you’ll never have to walk alone. May my heart be your shelter and arms be your home. It sounds cliche but I fell in love with you the moment I saw you. Not the love that people talk about. But an unexplained attraction, a feeling of home, an urge that I need to talk to this girl and make her mine. All I know is what we’ve shared since the moment we met is special and meant to be preserved. Forever. So, honey, will you marry me?" Bucky asked as he looked up into my eyes.
Right then, I could feel everyone's eyes on me. I could see how Dot's eyes were looking me up and down with a scowl on her face. Everyone was looking at me. Deeply looking into my soul trying to make me weak. To share their thoughts of how I don't deserve to be in them.
I didn't know what to say. I felt my eyes water but didn't know what my eyes are watered for. Were they happy or shameful tears? I gulped and said what I thought was right.
"I am sorry. I can't"
As soon as I said that I ran away from there leaving you out there standing with a broken heart. You held out your hand to spend the rest of my life with you but I dropped it. I bumped into the champagne fountain making them all break down but still, I ran without bothering as I did with your heart dropping it without any bother of looking back at it again. I ran and ran from everything. Everyone. Every fear. After all, that's the only thing I can do. Running.
I didn't know I was crying until a waiter asked me if I was okay.
-"yeah, I am sorry. Ca-Can you please get the bill?" I asked him.
-"Are you sure mam? Cause you didn't order anything except a bottle of champagne " He asked showing concern.
-"Yeah. Just bring the bill please." As I said that I felt someone's eyes on me.
I flicked up to see those beautiful blue eyes looking at me in disbelief. The way his facial expression changed after noticing me, I panicked but I wasn't my past self anymore who showed her weakness. I kept my neutral face on looking at him directly, trying to get to learn how much he has changed since then. His grown beard, hair and everything. I missed those blue ocean eyes. The way it used to look at me. I noticed his dry chapped lips slightly opened in disbelief.
Our moment broke down as the waiter came back with my bill. After paying the bill, I moved on. Again leaving the place, the memories, the life and more especially him. But this time at least he wasn't alone. Goodbye!
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A/n (Author's note): yeah! I know it's not an happy ending but that's it. I tried my best to put all the feelings. Hope you like it. Thanks for reading. If you want other prompt, send an ask. Have a nice day Or night!
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Note: Hey guys! Hope u like it. English is my second language so if there's any mistake u can inform me by messaging me privately. And PLEASE REBLOG and DON'T STEAL MY WORK. Please like and comment too so, that I can know ur guy's views. Thank u for reading guys! Have a nice day and please comment if u wanna be tagged in.
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Taglist: @cjand10 @angstysebfan @marvelogic
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blind0demon · 1 year
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In Sickness And In Health
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Summary: Kenshi takes care of his partner who wouldn't stay in bed no matter how hard he tries to convince her to, so he tries a different approach.
Pairing: Kenshi Takahashi x Vesper Cammeron
Genre: Fluff, Smut
Word Count: 4,2K
Author's Note: This contains the events happening after Mortal Kombat Snow Blind with my favorite ship and I'm happy to finally get it done. 
The old door opened with a squeak as Vesper walked into the small hut. She sighed in happiness that she could finally get outside and take a look around the small village where she resided but her joy didn't last long when she noticed Kenshi standing a few meters away from her with a sour look on his face. Damn it, she could've sworn that he'd return later than her and wouldn't have noticed her disappearance, but she was wrong. "Did I give you permission to get out of your bed and especially leave the house? What were you thinking?" He lectured her like an angered father that just found out that his daughter left house arrest.
The woman growled in irritation and slammed the door behind her to lean her back against the wooden surface. "Nothing has happened to me, doc. It's just a short walk around the street to improve my health" She explained carelessly but he only shook his head in disappointment. "The only way to improve your health is to rest and listen to the real doctor who knows best how to treat you"  Kenshi said and walked over to her to put his hand against her forehead to check her temperature. She was a demon so her body heat was always higher than one of a human, but the man got used to it and was able to tell whether she had a fever or not and to his relief, she didn't but it was still higher than usual.
"See? I'm as good as ready to kick some Black Dragon ass and pay them back for losing my limb" Vesper shouted in excitement and pretended to fight the man in front of him while he tilted his head with an awkward smile to her vigor. It was a pleasant difference compared to a few weeks ago when she was lying in bed, unable to move a muscle as her organism was fighting for its life. Even if they won the battle against Kano and his army, they didn't leave unharmed with the girl suffering the most. He also caught a few injuries himself, a few of his fingers missing but it wasn't as bad as losing a hand like Vesper. It was hard to sit by her side and wait for her state to get better but at least they found a doctor in time to help her and give them a temporary place to stay. Days moved by as she slowly recovered from the excessive blood loss and high fevers caused from the wound getting infected but she was a fighter and giving up just wasn't an option.
He ordered her to sit on the bed while he uncovered the bandages covering her injury to inspect its progress in recovery and put some ointment on the skin. She tried her hardest not to let him know that it caused her slight discomfort but it had to be done to make her feel better. All this time, she kept staring at him while he did his work. By this time, it was evening so the orange rays of sunlight kissed his skin which only made him look even more attractive than he already was. Despite being blind, he could still sense her gaze lingering over his body as her cold blue eyes kept drilling into him but he got used to the feeling of being watched.
She was his girlfriend after all, he couldn't just tell her to stop even if it crept him out sometimes. "Are you still mad at me?" Vesper blurted out, breaking the silence, her legs carelessly swaying in the air. "No, I just don't want you to get worse" He responded honestly, finishing up his work and covering the wound with clean material. "Fuuck, I just can't sit here all day and do nothing. Seeing the same four walls is driving me nuts already. You follow me, right? When you lost your sight, you didn't just give up and do nothing either" She started bragging angrily, hoping for him to understand her as he tried to wrap the bandage with difficulty as her body kept on moving as she talked.
It was true that he wouldn't let his injury destroy his future and he fought through many obstacles to come where he is now and there were many times where he wanted to give up. However, he wasn't alone. He had his friend, Kuai who helped him train and learn how to survive without eyesight and he had Vesper. Maybe she wasn't as good of a teacher as the other man, but she still tried and Kenshi appreciated it non the less. She was that one spark of joy that always shone through the darkness that covered his surroundings and gave him the reason to move on, so now he wanted to be the same for her when she needed him the most.
"I know, Vesper. Just seeing you in pain made me realize how much I care about you and how quick I could lose you" Kenshi confessed, before finishing the task and smiling up at her. She didn't say anything for a while and just looked at him, seemingly touched by his words. It's not often when they talked to each other about personal feelings as both tried to make themselves look tough and confident. The world wasn't a place that accepted weakness so they had to adjust. Especially her. As a demon, she was born in a different world, surrounded by death itself where each day was a struggle of survival which greatly desensitized her.
She later became an assassin for a man who only saw her as a tool to use and kill whenever he pleased. Now, she was free but the scars of her past were still there and letting themselves know each time she woke up and each time she went to sleep. Sometimes Vesper wondered if she truly loved the boy, if she was really capable of feeling these types of emotions.
After a moment, she put her hand on his face and rubbed her thumb against his skin with a smile. "Thanks for taking care of me, I know that I sometimes may be a pain in the ass so I think you deserve a reward for your hard work" She said and leaned in to give him a smooch on the lips, before parting away.
"Aww, you didn't have to, but I wouldn't mind another" He answered with a devilish grin and put his hands on each corner of the bed to lift himself up and return the gesture. The demon chuckled into the kiss and wrapped her arms around his neck to keep him even closer than before. His grip tightened as she lightly bit his lower lip, causing him to gasp. Vesper used that opportunity to slip her tongue inside and explore his mouth while her nails trailed over the back of his neck, giving him goosebumps. Sneaky girl, he thought to himself and kissed back, dragging his wet muscle over her forked one.
Too invested in the activity, he didn't even notice himself basically pushing her whole body on the bed, as she held tightly onto him with no care in the world either. Perhaps he will forgive her for getting out of the room without asking, just this once. Kenshi could feel her legs pressing themselves against his hips in excitement while she showed no signs of stopping, not until the last bits of air left her lungs. They continued this tantalizing game till they parted away, both trying to catch their breath. The man could feel her familiar piercing gaze lingering over him once again as she panted, her arms still resting on his shoulders.
"Well, that was nice. I will go make dinner now" He said matter of factly and began to walk away. "What, no!" She protested and took a hold of his wrist, enabling him to leave. "As much as I'd like to make out with you further, you're supposed to rest, so stay here" He said sweetly and yanked his hand away from her grasp. Vesper growled loud enough for him to hear, but he didn't budge against her stubbornness. She just looked at him as he walked away, her sharp pupils now dilated like the one of a cat watching its prey. They often made out with each other and that was always about it but this time, it wasn't enough. She wasn't the type to take no for an answer and little did Kenshi know, you don't turn your back on a predator.
The woman swiftly lifted herself off the bed and ran over to him and before Kenshi could realize what was happening, his back hit the mattress with her on top of him. "What the… I told you not to teleport me, this creeps the hell out of me!" He said angrily but she only laughed at his pitiful position as she sat herself comfortably on his abdomen. "Should've known better before you decided to date a teleporter" Vesper teased. He should've also thought before he chose to go out with a bratty teenager in the body of an adult that was surprisingly older than him. Sometimes he wondered if he really was younger than her.
"You know, screw all that medicine. I think I know just the right thing to make me fully stand on my toes again" She whispered seductively, her hand tugging at the corners of the man's shirt, clearly letting him know what she wanted. Kenshi gulped in nervousness as her weight pressed his body further into the bedsheets, enabling him to move away. "Maybe we should wait till you fully recover. I don't think you're completely sane at the moment" He answered, attempting to escape the situation by pushing her off of him but Vesper took a hold of one of his palms before leaning against his face.
"I'm more than sane right now and I'm certain that I've been waiting way too long for this moment to arrive" She growled but realized by the look on his face that she might have gone a little too far. In most of her previous relationships, having intercourse was the only thing that kept her and her partner together so even if Kenshi didn't ask for any of that before, she still felt obligated to do it, even if she didn't have to. It still lingers behind her head sometimes but now she just wanted to get closer. To straighten the bond they already had. Her grip on his hand eased up as she straightened her back to look away in shame.
"Look, I love you and I really feel fine now, so why not do it?" The woman asked and waited for a moment as he seemed to think for a while before lifting himself off the pillow and sitting up in front of her. "It's not that I don't want it, I'm just worried that I might hurt you if you're not fully healthy" He confessed, stroking her damaged arm as he spoke. "That's not what you said when we first met" Vesper said with a grin and he shook his head in embarrassment, rubbing his temples at the memories of their meeting. He was an arrogant fighter, seeking to challenge anybody who seemed worthy and he just happened to encounter the girl who was well known for her outstanding performance in illegal fights.
Little did he know that she just barely escaped with her life from the Black Dragon and was covered in wounds and bruises. Despite that, he still challenged her and even mocked her as she refused at first but eventually agreed to battle him. She obviously lost, still weak from her breakout but he couldn't care less at that time. "I know, but I was selfish and thought that nothing bad could even happen to me before I've lost my sight. I can't afford to lose you as well" Kenshi said. "I understand" She murmured and pretended to feel sad for him to maybe change his mind.
He couldn't stand being around her when she was unhappy and decided to give in, even if in the back of his head he suspected that she wasn't really upset. "Fine, just tell me when you're feeling any type of pain, okay?" The man sighed in resignation but smiled as she immediately looked up at him with sparks in her eyes. "My charm does work after all" Vesper laughed and pressed her lips against his in a heated yet quick kiss while circling her arms around his neck. "You're mine now" She whispered possessively in his ear and started to leave open mouth kisses on his neck, enjoying the small noises and gasps coming out of him
 She was still careful to avoid the burn marks that he got in the battle even if they healed a long time ago. Kenshi took a hold of her hips and settled her closer to him, feeling her body warmth radiating on his own. It was intoxicating and he loved it as he ran his fingers across her sides, occasionally gripping them harder as she bit him. Her sharp canines occasionally nibbled on his skin, feeling the heartbeat pulsating in his arteries. The woman knew that with the jaw strength greatly outgrowing the one of a human, she could rip his flesh apart without any effort and end his life within seconds.
Her excitement only grew when she had to resist the carnivorous urge to sink her fangs into him. And he's the one worried that he could hurt her, she thought with menace. Kenshi moved away from her and tugged at her shirt in a silence request to take it off. She obliged without a second thought and lifted her arms up for him to do his thing, before taking his own as well. "I could stare at that all day" Vesper commented, eyeing his exposed body and biting her lip. As expected, he was well built with each muscle begging to get marked by her. "Can't really say that for myself" He joked, pointing at the bandana covering his eyes.
"You don't have to, feel free to touch me whenever you want if that will help you visualize me" The woman said with a smirk and guided his hands to her neck, letting him feel the texture of her skin. It wasn't soft but rough, dried by the constant exposure to the hot wind and scorching sun throughout the years. From what he remembered when he was still able to see, she had black symbols that looked like tattoos on most parts of her neck and shoulders and he ran his fingers through them. Vesper told him that they were a type of seal that kept her looking like a human and prevented others from exposing her true form.
They emitted a weird aura, strong enough for him to tell whether he was touching them or not. He heard her gasp, as his hand ran down her neckline but stopped as the piece of fabric covering her chest stood in his way. He moved his arms behind her back and unclasped her bra, throwing it on the flood. Before the woman could say anything perverted at his action, the man pushed her on the mattress and settled himself on top of her. "Hah, think you can tame a demon?" She snickered, lifting herself on her elbows. "We will find out, won't we?" Kenshi answered and leaned in to give her the same treatment he got a while ago and began sucking hickeys on her neck while his fingers roamed over her heated skin.
He made sure to map every single little scar that bared her skin, traveling his hands up her exposed breasts. Vesper let out a moan when he pinched one of her nipples, experimentally twisting them between his fingertips to listen to her reaction. Each small gasp that left her mouth went right into his hardening shaft that rubbed uncomfortably against her clothed sex as he worked on her. She had noticed it too and thrusted her hips upwards, earning a surprised groan out of him. "Someone seems more excited than they said" The woman teased.
"And someone should speak for herself" He retaliated back and silenced her by putting more force on her sensitive flesh, rubbing it just the right way for her to lose her mind. Kenshi felt her legs lock themselves around his waist and pressed him closer to her, making it harder for him to focus on working on her while he was just centimeters away from her covered entrance. Screw that, he thought to himself after a while and straightened his back, leaving her on the bed panting for air. Vesper was prepared enough. His hands moved to his pants and he took them off of himself while the girl watched with a smile slowly growing on her face at the little performance.
"Now, that's a meal I wouldn't mind digging into right away" She commented, her eyes glistening at the sight of the man's throbbing erection just begging to wreck her insides. "Oh, shut up" He growled in embarrassment, fed up with her specific way of talking and helped her take the rest of her wardrobe off of her. She did feel a bit awkward with her body fully exposed at his mercy but the uncomfortable feeling quickly rushed away when he spread her legs open with his hand, the sensation of lust quickly returning back. The woman bit her lip as he teased her entrance with the tip of his manhood, making her even wetter than she already was.
Kenshi enjoyed the state he brought her to, her breathing growing rapid with each passing second of this torture as the muscles underneath her skin trembled in his touch as he firmly hold her thigh. He let himself wait for the pressure to become unbearable, enjoying the building up feeling till he wouldn't take it anymore. "Fuck me, please" Vesper whined, taking a grip on his shoulder to get his attention. She would never beg him for anything so it only showed how much power he had over her just with his light ministrations. "Very well" He answered, barely able to contain himself as well and pushed himself inside her and let out a shaky groan as her walls hugged him tightly.
The demon cursed out at the feeling of his flesh tearing itself through her insides and forcing her body to adjust to him. Her hand clawed at the sheets beneath her body as she shut her eyes, enjoying the mix of pleasure and pain while her partner waited for her to get used to him. Despite the small discomfort, she won't wait for it to disappear, she wanted to claim the price for all the suffering she had to endure and finally have him. Moreover, the pain felt great, as long as she experienced it, it was a sign that she was alive. She rubbed her fingers against the nape of his neck, signalizing in a silent motion that she was ready and he nodded, slowly rocking his hips against her.
He felt just as good as she expected when she daydreamed about their sacret encounter, sick in her bed that was not moving in sync with the boy's thrusts. Her clouded eyes kept drifting over his body, from the sight of his abdomen muscles contrasting each time he pushed himself further against her, to his face, trying to take in all the emotions he felt. A smile crept on her lips and she lifted herself up to hungrily kiss him, wrapping her arms around his neck to pull him closer to her. His taste felt intoxicating, only increasing her animalistic need for him as she forced his lips to part and explore his wet cavern with her forked tongue.
She left him little to no air to breathe, too occupied with the ecstasy ripping through her system each time he slammed his shaft into her. Her fingers ran through his short dark hair and tugged on the roots as she occasionally moaned in his mouth. They stopped at the fabric wrapped around his head and covering his eyes so she went out of her way to take it off. However, before she could do that, Kenshi took a hold of her wrist to stop her. "I don't think that's the best idea. They're covered for a reason" He breathed out with a grimace on his face.
"I've seen worse, besides, you don't have eyes and I don't have a hand. It almost feels like we've been built for each other" She answered sarcastically, causing him to giggle and let her slip the bandana off of him. She let her fingertips trail over the scars covering his eyelids and trace the damaged skin while she pressed little kisses on the side of his face. The demon cherished him like a treasure that could disappear at any moment so she held him even closer as if to make sure that he wouldn't leave. "You're the best thing that ever happened to me" He said in a heated whisper while his hips frantically thrusted against her.
She couldn't help but stare at him in disbelief as she'd never heard anybody say this to her before. In the past, she was the opposite of his words, taking away other people's lives and only causing pain. She grew up to believe that she could do no good, let alone make someone truly happy. The boy was slowly changing her, making her feel emotions that she thought were long gone. Now, she wasn't just fucking him for the pleasure, she really felt like she was making love to a person who cared for her and wanted to protect her. Each caress against her skin, each kiss and word of affection created a warm feeling in her chest that made her feel emotional to the point where she might start crying in a second.
Vesper could sense her eyes starting to swell and tears forming in their corners so she blinked a few times, trying to get rid of them and not look weak in front of her partner. Instead, she attempted to focus on the buzzing euphoria in her system each time her insides were penetrated by the man's member. By this time, he was sliding in and out of her with no effort, only adding to the approaching climax both of them awaited. Her body felt as if it was set on fire, not knowing if it was because of his continuous thrusts or the fever but she couldn't care at that moment.
Her fingers clawed at his back as he sucked her neck, feeling his muscles tense underneath his skin. Eventually, the demon couldn't take it anymore and reached her finish, instinctively biting hard on his shoulder to the point where her fangs drew blood but damn, it felt satisfying. Kenshi growled in pain but didn't scold her, too busy chasing his own release and drunk with the feeling of her walls tightly hugging him. It didn't take long for him to end either and he swiftly pulled out of her before painting her stomach with his fluid, trying to catch his breath as he hovered over her.
"Shit, that was not bad" Vesper commented after a while and the man smiled and laid himself on the mattress next to her. "If this will keep you in bed and rest now, then I'm glad that I helped" He said and started playing with her long hair, lazily twirling them between his digits. "No way I'm getting out of here till morning, you as well" She smirked and wrapped her arms and legs around his body and pressed her face to his chest, ready to resist if he showed any signs of protest. "Dinner won't make itself, honey" The boy sighed but couldn't bring himself to push her off of him, not just because he felt tired but also because everything felt so peaceful at the moment.
He was still coming down from his high and having her so close to him felt too soothing to let go. Nothing bad would happen if he stayed like this for a few more minutes. Vesper didn't say anything snarky anymore and just listened to his calming heartbeat while her finger traced the bite mark on his shoulder, smearing the blood over his skin before taking it in her mouth. It tasted different than usual blood, sweeter to be exact. She did feel sorry for hurting him but she didn't regret biting him. At least everyone will know who he belonged to now. 
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mageofseven · 11 months
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Repressed Love: A DiaLuci Love Story
Chapter 39
Tag list: @astroseuss @zarakem @brielle043 @missloserqueen
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Lucifer knocked on his son's door.
The blonde was awake earlier and usually doesn't leave his room much so the father was more or less sure of his whereabouts.
However, didn't answer. The father knocked again.
"Satan?"
"I just wanna be alone right now..."
The blonde responded, sound like he was right against the door.
"MC is--"
The younger man swung open the door.
"I--Satan?"
Despite the warning, the sight of her boyfriend with white wings was still odd to her.
Satan's face was red as he stood frozen in place. He...he felt like he has changed a lot during the months she was with her family. Were these changes she could accept though?
The woman threw her arms around him.
"I missed you so much!"
The angel sighed in relief and held her close.
Despite all of the change he has gone through, at least MC seems to be the same as always.
He kissed her head before nuzzling his face in her hair.
"I miss you too, Kitten."
And at that, the father quietly retreated from the couple, accepting that after so long of being apart that the two needed some time to themselves to catch up.
Devil knows they have a lot to talk about.
As the days went by, MC brought some much needed cheer to the castle. Satan began leaving his room more, though still wasn't too comfortable leaving the castle in his new form.
MC also spent a lot of time with Diavolo, to the pregnant woman's joy. It was difficult to see the black, inky Rot on the princess at first, but the human quickly adapted and did her best to keep the other woman's mind off of it.
Honestly, this was probably the happiest Lucifer has seen his fiancée in a while and it was all thanks to the human. MC...she has this beautiful knack for raising his family's spirits; it's been this way since the beginning and the pride demon couldn't be more grateful for her.
Sadly, the happiness couldn't stay for long.
Diavolo's condition continued to resist her medicine; the Rot spread down over her belly, a scary sight to the expecting mother.
Despite this, the Rot still had no direct impact on the baby. It was for the same reason the Rot wasn't contagious; despite the physical symptom of the spreading ooze, Magick Rot was an illness of the soul and only focused on the soul it originally infected.
The baby will not catch the Rot because of it's focus on Dia's soul, but also because the baby does not even have a soul quite yet; right now, the child is in the process of collecting dark magick that will solidify into a soul after birth.
The baby was safe for now, but the visual of the dark ooze over her belly was still too much for the mother.
The woman panicked, causing the Rot to continue to spread.
Lucifer held her close, trying to calm her as Barbatos rushed to get the doctor.
The doctor arrived after a few minutes later, rushing inside before quickly checking the spread process. It had descended to her thighs; her panick had pushed it farther.
The doctor quickly turned to Lucifer, syringe in hand.
"I need permission. We've already discussed--"
"Just do it."
Lucifer knew fully well that this decision will upset his fiancée later, but this was an emergency and this man was not going to lose them both.
The doctor nodded and injected it into one of her forearms, the origin point of the Rot.
Slowly, the dark ooze receded, stopping at just below her navel.
Whatever potion was in the syringe also calmed the woman, putting her in a trance-like state.
Both men in the room stared at the doctor, anxious for his explanation.
"She'll be fine." The older man assured. "I will write her a prescription for this in bottle form and hopefully by the end of the week, this will all be resolved."
"Will the potions always put her in this state?"
In truth, the look in her eyes worried her fiancé. Diavolo...she felt so unresponsive in his arms. Not a single muscle reacted to his touch. And her stare...the woman just stared into space, occasionally blinking but...she didn't truly feel present and the pride demon wasn't expecting this at all.
"Not at all." The doctor assured. "There was a sedative mixed in the fast-acting version to keep her emotions from fighting the potion. She'll be plenty responsive while taking the oral treatment."
"Pardon for the interruption," Barbatos chimed in, frowning. "But is my lady truly alright in this state?"
"Her brain is a bit foggy, but with time, the sedative should clear out of her system; she'll probably remember very little of this, which is for the best when you take her condition in account."
"How long until it wears off?"
"A couple hours, no more than four." The doctor insisted. "The princess will come out of this feeling like she had the best nap of her life."
The older man took out a notepad and wrote down the prescription before ripping it off and handing it to Barb.
"Make these for the princess and make sure your lady drinks them twice a day till the Rot has fully dissolved and has disappeared completely from the forearms."
After thanking the doctor, Barbatos walked him out. Lucifer stayed back and held his love tightly.
The Avatar of Pride made the best decision he could in the moment; he made the choice that saved both his love and their child's life
But he also made the decision that could hurt his child in the long run, a decision that Diavolo may never forgive him for.
Lucifer hid his face in her neck, his nose brushing against her red hair as some silent tears slid from his eyes.
"I did it to protect you both." He whispered, tightening the embrace. "I'm sorry I let this all happen in the first place. I wasn't here when you and Satan needed me. You got sick because I wasn't there for you both when you needed me the most."
There wasn't much point in the man saying all of this to her now. Even if Diavolo could hear him while in this state, she'll forget his words once she 'wakes up'.
But he couldn't hold them in. Not the apology, not the guilt. Not even the tears
And he knew there was just more to come. He knew when the sedative wears off later in the day that he would have to explain what happened and what medicine she was given...and what it did. And somehow convince her to keep drinking the potion to remove the Rot from her very being despite what it might be doing to their child.
He still remembered the doctor's words from a few days ago; this medicine will save her life, but could cause some defects in their child.
Diavolo will never forgive him if their child is hurt from this. In truth...Lucifer will never forgive himself.
The father gave a loving stroke to his fiancée's belly, staring at it will all of the love, guilt, and pain he felt in this moment.
No matter what happens...they'll be alive. Both his love and their new child will be alive; that was the only solace the father had in this situation.
Lucifer leaned down and pressed a kiss to her belly.
"You'll be perfect to me no matter what." He whispered. "Just being able to keep you and your mother with me, that is enough; that is all I can beg the world for at this point."
The father's heart was crushed...but still, he'd crush it a thousand times over if it meant he could keep this woman and their child.
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ladyzerodark · 1 month
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Fanfic Time!
Title: Rough Hands Pairing: Dark X Ryoma Nagare (OC x Canon) Fandom: Technically SRW 30 Recommended music to get the vibe: Rough Hands by Alexisonfire Summary: Completely self indulgent drabble about two people and changing bandages. Was written at midnight, so yeah.
"Hey, Ryoma?" "Hm?" "When was the last time you changed your bandages? The ones on your hands?" "…Uh."
Ryoma let out a slightly annoyed huff as Dark sat him down on her bed and went to grab her medical kit. After asking what seemed like a pretty innocent question, the woman decided it was time to give him fresh bandages. Though in all fairness, he didn't really need them. The Getter pilot glanced down at said bandages and began to think. When was the last time he changed his bandages? Did he… ever change them? He couldn't remember. With everything happening, the war against the Invaders, finding Amuro, Ryoma had far too much to worry about. "I swear, do you realize how unhealthy it is not to change these things?" Dark grumbled as she sat in front of Ryoma on the bed, med kit in hand. "I mean, you've mentioned they're mostly for show, but seriously, my guy…" She paused a moment, noting that he wasn't really paying attention to her. She smiled slightly, shaking her head. Gently, her hand moved to his wrist, to start unwrapping his bandages. Apparently that was enough to shock Ryoma out of his stupor, as he snatched his hand away. A look of hurt flashed across Dark's face before she shook her head and gave him a gentle but sad smile. She should know better. "Sorry," she whispered. "I didn't mean to surprise you like that." Ryoma was quiet for a moment before letting out a grunt of acknowledgement, followed by a quiet " 's fine". He offered his hand back to her. Dark nodded her head, working to undo the bandages around his wrist and going up to his hand. In the back of her mind, she was slowly realizing that, despite hanging around him the most in the Dreisstrager crew, she'd never actually seen his hands without their bandages. Was it weird to be curious? It felt like Ryoma wore the bandages to seem invincible, to hide any injury. Both physical and mental. When the bandages were finally removed, Dark glanced at Ryoma's expression, wanting to check to see if he was uncomfortable. To her surprise, the Getter pilot was looking away, a slight blush dusting his cheeks. Her eyes traveled back down to his hand. She followed each curve of muscle, noted every callus and scar. Unconsciously, her other hand moved to start tracing along his hand, feeling the roughness of his skin. His hand twitched at the contact, but compared to the first time, he didn't move away. Dark swore she could feel his muscles relax at her touch. She brushed the thought away, deciding to begin work on unwrapping his other hand. Ryoma allowed it, resting his now free hand on his knee. He honestly was surprised with how gentle she was, how soft her hands were compared to his. A wry smile crossed his face for a moment. Of course, she felt different. She wasn't like him. She wasn't a killing machine, a tool for destruction. She hadn't seen what he had. Hadn't gone through what he had… When Dark removed the last of the bandages, the two finally looked up at each other's faces. Dark's eyes were curious, gentle… understanding. Ryoma frowned. No matter what he had thought, he knew she had her own demons. Her son and daughter had hinted as much. He never asked, mostly because he wanted to respect her boundaries as she had his. His thumb brushed against her hand, still on his own, testing to see how she'd react. Much like his reaction, there was a slight tense, then it relaxed almost as quickly as it appeared. The two sat in silence for a few moments, their fingers brushing against each other, idly. The silence was comfortable, neither felt the need to break it. Dark let out a shaky breath, her free hand moving towards Ryoma's on his knee. Gently, almost cautiously, her fingers lifted his own, opening his hand. She pressed her hand against his, palm to palm, eyes glancing down for a second, as if to see just how different they were. The gentle, soft hand pressed against the rough, hardened one. Ryoma chuckled, almost sadly. His hand moved slightly, his fingers interlacing with hers. After a moment of hesitation, her fingers closed in, joining the two together. They were together. If only for the moment.
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