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writing-fanics · 9 months ago

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Nothing lasts forever

Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

[warning: cheating: angst: panic attack: implied death]

‘More than anything music box’

As you stood there, your heart felt as though it had stopped beating at that very moment. Your breathing started to slow down as your smile faltered and transformed into a frown. A look of profound sadness and sorrow took over your face as you gazed at the scene before you.

Your eyes were fixed on Lucifer, one of the most beautiful angels in all of Heaven, the one you had opened your heart up to and shared your deepest feelings with.

But now, you were witnessing him cheating on you with Lilith, the first woman and Adam's wife. The pain you felt was almost unbearable, as you watched the love of your life betray your trust and shatter your heart into a million pieces.

You could feel your throat closing as your breathing quickened. You felt sick to your stomach as if someone had punched you in the gut. You wanted to throw up. You wanted to scream. To cry, to disappear from existence. You couldn’t believe he’d do such a thing to you, were you not enough?

Were you not as beautiful as she is? Were you too clingy? To annoying? Why did he betray you and your trust?

He promised to always be by your side when you needed him, to always catch you when you fall. To be your shoulder to cry on. To never break your trust.

But here he was breaking that very promise and trust, leaving you feeling empty and hollow. The two of you were made for each other, and with the scene unfolding before you. Made you think otherwise.

“I love you, Lilith,” whispered Lucifer, as he stared at Lilith in awe kissing her on the lips.

Your whole world shattered as your back hit the tree, and you slid down onto the ground. Placing your hand over your mouth, muffling your wails. You couldn’t breathe and felt the world closing in on you. You were nothing to him. You sniffled quietly placing your head into your hands, and wept as you swiftly flew away.

You fell into a heap on the floor of your house, sobbing as you curled up into a ball. You saw everything and what you saw would forever be engraved into your memory, you’ll never get it out of your head. Seeing them like that, him like that with another woman. Made your stomach turn, how could he do such a thing to you?

“W- Was I not enough?” You whimpered, as you lay in the fetal position. Your face is red and puffy cheeks stained with tears, your heart aching and unbearable pain. You knew he felt what you were going through at this moment, and couldn’t care less to comfort you. Your love was bound and could feel each other's emotions when they became severe, and you knew for a fact he could feel it.

But didn’t care enough to comfort you. He was having too much fun with Lilith, doing things that he should only be doing to you his lover.

You thought he would never do such a thing to you. Never betray you and break your heart, and here he was ripping it right out of your throat. If he had noticed you would he have stopped? Would he have kept going? Taunting you, teasing you, on an act he’d never done to you. Such an act he’ll never do to you now.

You thought your relationship was good perfect even. Yes, you had the occasional fight but would always end up back in each other’s arms, holding each other lovingly. Feeling safe and secure in each other's warm embrace.

“I'm so sorry, my dear duckling," he whispered, pulling you close and showering your shoulder with gentle kisses. "Please know that I understand how you feel.”

"I forgive you, Luci," you said, enveloping him in a warm embrace and smiling through your tears as he held you. He pressed a tender kiss to your forehead and whispered comforting words in your ear, promising to make things right.

You banged your fist against the cold ground; gripping at the fabric of your clothes, as you cried. The tears didn’t seem to stop and wouldn’t anytime soon. You couldn’t breathe, the room around you started to spin. You felt dizzy and nauseous, feeling bile rising in your throat causing you to gag. You swallowed and gripped the side of your head.

You tossed it to the ground, screaming and crying in anger and frustration. “HOW COULD HE DO THIS TO ME!” You shouted, trashing everything that reminded you of him. You couldn’t stop crying, the things this man did to you. How he made you smile and laugh, how he made you fall head over heels.

You wanted to disappear and fade back into dust, your original form. To not be forced to live with this pain for all eternity, knowing that even after this you’d still love him. He’d come back and apologize slowly making up for it but…..

You stood there with the other angels, his siblings trying their best to comfort you. As you watched him be banished from Heaven, cast down with his new lover. Leaving you there alone in Heaven, with no shoulder to cry on.

You found yourself standing amidst a group of angels, feeling a sense of unease and trying hard to keep yourself composed. As you looked ahead, you noticed him standing before Lilith, his wings stretched out protectively, shielding her from any harm. The sight of him being so close to Lilith made your heart ache with a mixture of emotions.

You couldn't help but wonder if you were so unpleasant to look at that he couldn't even spare a glance in your direction. The whole situation left you feeling conflicted, and you couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy towards Lilith, who seemed to have his undivided attention.

As you stood there looking at him, you noticed that his gaze had shifted to meet yours. It was then that you saw a hint of remorse in his eyes, and you couldn't help but feel a wave of sadness wash over you. In that moment, a single tear trickled down his cheek, and you averted your eyes, unable to bear the intensity of the situation.

As you looked away from him, he noticed the tears that had welled up in your own eyes, and the hollow, defeated expression etched on your face. It was a moment of deep emotional turmoil for both of you, and the silence that hung between you was almost suffocating.

“Nothing lasts forever,” Azrael said, as he placed his hand on your shoulder squeezing it gently in reasurrance.

You shook your head and stepped outside of the courtroom, stopping at the stairs. You reached around your neck taking off the necklace, Lucifer had given you years ago.

You stared at it for a moment, opening it. A soft melody played, tears trickled down her cheeks as whisps of yellow magic swirled, around the locket music box. A duck swam in a pond while a swan, swam up next to it nuzzling their heads into each other.

As she witnessed the heartwarming scene unfolding before her, she couldn't help but let out a choked sob. A tearful smile graced her face as she watched the duck and the swan gradually transform into Lucifer and You, respectively. The two characters held each other closely, their embrace exuding a sense of comfort and security.

Lucifer, still holding onto You, took to the skies, flying around with exuberance. His laughter filled the air, and his smile was contagious. You, too, shared in his joy, reveling in the moment with him.

As they soared through the clouds, a vivid memory of their first kiss flashed before your eyes. You remembered how you had wrapped your arms tightly around his neck, and he had held you close to him. The moment had been magical, and it was a memory that you cherished deeply.

You smiled, closing the locket as a gust of wind blew the magic away, and you along with it, returning back to your original form to dust.

A/n: idk what I just created there’s no part ii for this unless y’all beg me for it but idk still]

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@froggybich

#lucifer morningstar x reader #Lucfier x reader #x reader #fanfic #angst #romance #headcanons #hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin lucifer #lucifer magne #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader

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k-aay · 14 days ago

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☆ HEY, NEIGHBOUR. HEY, LOVER. (PART 1)

☆ SYNOPSIS : : There once was a boy who had feelings for a girl but didn't know how to express them. As a kid, he didn't know how to get her attention, so he beat up the guys who did, which only lit the flame to a long-lasting hatred between them. That was sixteen years ago, and now you both are twenty-one with homes too close for comfort. But what you didn't know is how attracted you were to him now.

FEATURING : choso kamo

NOTE : this took a little too long to write pls enjoy <3

WC ; 5.2k

CREDITS! : this work is owned by @k-aay on tumblr. please dont steal my work! (i do not proof read, sorry for any mistakes !!)

16 YEARS AGO !

"I hate you!" you screamed, stomping your small foot as your eyebrows furrowed. It was true, you hated the way he was acting right now. He stood there with his hands shoved into the pockets of his baggy, denim jeans, standing not far from you. And on the ground beside him was your classmate wailing with a bruised eye. Choso couldn't care less about the trouble he caused. He kicked a tiny rock before him, "I did you a favour, stupid." You were seeing red at this point as you clenched your fists. "What is your problem!?" you grab him by the collar of his red shirt.

"Hey, let go!" Choso pushes you away, not using much force. "What the hell are you doing!? I was helping you!" he yells, pointing a finger at you. "You punched him! I didn't ask you to punch him!" He frowned. Of course, you didn't ask him to punch that jerk, but he did it anyway. He knew that you wanted that kid far away from you so he punched him. Why were you upset at him?

PRESENT

Choso Kamo was one of the staples of your childhood. He was notorious for leading the other boys in your elementary school like minions and demanding them to create as much chaos with him as possible. And he'd be damned if any of his minions stepped out of line. But that was almost a decade ago and you haven't seen him since middle school. Right now, you're unpacking your boxes after moving into your new apartment. As you sit on your brand-new couch and rest your feet on the cardboard box sitting snugly on the floor, you crack open your last can of beer.

"I thought you said you'd manage to handle unpacking everything yourself," your friend, Shoko says as she grabs the beer from your hand and chugs it. "Ugh, slow down! That's the last can." She wipes the excess from her mouth and hands you the can. "I deserve to drink as fast as I want after you enslaved me today." You roll your eyes and place your lips on the cold, metal top of the can, taking a sip. "And here I thought my best friend meant it when she said I could call her if I needed anything."

"No one means it when they say that. You're fucking stupid for believing that. I only helped because I wanted to see your new place. Maybe even design a room for myself." Shoko shifted her position on the couch, her legs over the top as she sat upside-down. "Why the hell would I give you a room?" She hits your legs, "Because I helped you clean the place with these hands. For hours, if I should add. And you live so close to campus and that gas station."

"I did get a good place, didn't I?" you say, fidgeting your fingers around the can. "'Good' is an understatement," Shoko says, pointing her finger at the window. Specifically the gas station near your house. "Now it's time to pay off your debts and get us some beer and cigarettes. Your treat." You groan, sitting back on the couch. "Go. I'll watch over your lion den." You stand up straight and zip your grey sweater up, slightly covering the shorts you were wearing.

"Fine," you say, slipping into your shoes as you hold onto the wall for support. You place your phone into the back pocket of your shorts and open the front door, stepping outside.

As you made your way to the gas station, you wanted to make the trip quick. Speed-walking through the store to gather the things you needed: bottles of beer, snacks, cigarettes and hangover medicine you know you'll need for tomorrow. You dumped the pile of happiness for the night onto the check-out table and carefully placed the six-pack of beer down too. As the cashier scanned everything, you faintly heard a group of male voices from outside gradually getting closer and louder until they were right outside the door. "Your total will be forty dollars. How would you like to pay?" the cashier dully says, tapping on the screen before him.

"Jesus... forty..." you mumble. "Card." pulling the shiny credit card from your purse, you pay for your items as the cashier puts them into a white plastic bag. You grabbed the bag and headed straight for the door. Right as you were going to push it open, someone had already pulled it open instead. "Yo, Kamo, you gonna go inside? Oh, shit-" the white-haired man cuts himself off after laying eyes on you. "y/n?" he says, a smirk forming on his face.

"Gojo.." you mumble, dreadfully. And in front of him was Choso Kamo. The little leader of it all. He towered over you, his eyes looking down to meet yours. And you hated the feeling of it even more, damaging your ego slightly. "Drinking with someone or are you all alone?" Gojo leans forward, resting his arm on Choso's shoulder who was staring at you with his hands shoved into his pockets the same way he did all those years ago. You didn't want to admit how good Choso looked with his long, jet-black tied back into a bun with a few strands falling in front of his face. "Fuck off. I have to get going. Because unlike you, someone's waiting for me at home."

"Who?" You looked up at the man who spoke coldly to you. It was just one word that sent shivers down your spine. His tone was nothing short of rough. He said that one simple word as if you owed him an explanation and you had to quickly remind yourself that you didn't. "That's none of your business." Gojo chuckles, removing his arm from Choso. "You'll let us in your apartment if we ask to join right? Seems like a lot of drinking for one small person." You were about to refuse them before the other one, Geto did for you. "Satoru, it's rude to invite yourself like that. Especially if you aren't wanted." His tone sounded soft and sincere, but you already knew Geto well enough from previous years to know that nothing was sweet under that angelic voice.

What you couldn't figure out was the man still intensely staring at you, Choso Kamo. You looked away from him and shook your head before pushing past them and walking off. "Not even a goodbye?" Gojo calls out yet you ignore him like you've been doing all these years. But you still felt as if eyes were on you.

Once you hurriedly made it back to your apartment, you placed the white, plastic bag on the floor and opened a beer. Shoko watched as you chugged the entire thing, reminiscing bad memories of not only your recent encounter with Choso and his little minions but old, previous ones as well. "Damn, who got your panties in a twist?" She asked, opening a beer for herself as she took a small sip. "Those wannabe-frat punks."

"Gojo and Geto?" Shoko asks, laying her stomach flat with one hand holding her beer bottle dangling off the couch. "Oh, and don't forget their little don," you aggressively place the bottle on the ground, but not strong enough for it to break into pieces. Your reminder of the two boys' leader grabbed Shoko's attention. "He's back?" You nod your head, not bothering to look at her. "Is he still hot?" Now you look at her, disgusted in fact. "Ye- no!" Shoko raises a brow as she takes another sip of beer, skeptical of you having to correct yourself. "I'll take that as a 'yes.'"

"He pisses me off! I swear I wanted to beat him up with my bag when I saw him! Right on the spot where his little dick-sucking friends could see." You chugged the bottle, every last drop of the drink was gone. Shoko looked at you, realizing the extent of your anger. You opened another beer bottle and started drinking. "Once I get my hands on that deadbeat, motherfucker-"

It was hours later before the effects of multiple beers kicked in. Shoko left early due to an assignment that was due the next morning, leaving you drunk and alone. You were lost in your thoughts, mainly about the man you dreaded. You laid flat on your back, the coldness of the wooden flooring was one of the few things you felt after those beers. Suddenly, loud music startled you and you looked at the wall where the apartment next door was on the other side of. That was where the music was coming from. You were already upset and annoyed by the encounter at the gas station. Being drunk meant your decency to be a good neighbour, especially on the first day of moving in was kicked out of the window. You put on your slippers and exit your apartment, knocking on the door next to yours.

No answer...

So you knocked again. It's louder this time. Only now, the door finally opened. The muzzled-out music was louder and gave you a minor headache. Standing on the other side of the door was Choso, looking as calm as you were shocked. "Can I help you?" he asked, his eyes lowering to your body which was covered in a short, white tank top and jean shorts that almost fully covered your thighs. You felt his gaze lingering for a few seconds and a blush crept onto your cheeks when Choso's eyes met with yours again. It was like a staring contest you were determined to win. Even when he had his hair messily down, making it ten times harder for you to look at him, you weren't going to face defeat. Instead, you cleared your throat, trying to be as intimidating and nonchalant as possible as you slammed your hand against his door. "Turn down the music, dork. You're gonna wake up the entire building with that shit."

Unfortunately for you, your eyes lingered down on the very shirtless person you were berating. Choso's arms were crossed, covering half of the view of his chest. Secretly, you were praying for this man to let his arms down to his side. It felt like you were a high schooler all over again, drooling over guys from magazines but instead, you were drooling over the man that was physically impossible for you to get along with. But your intoxication left no room for shame and locked it behind chains and a metal door.

"No," he spoke. "Are you drunk?" You rolled your eyes and walked closer, stopping right in front of him, your slippers almost touching his feet. "Turn. Down. The. Fucking. Music. Got it?" Your arm leaned against his door as you waited for his answer. As much as you were scared, you stood your ground with confidence, until Choso leaned down to reach your height level. "No." You unknowingly backed up an inch, causing him the slightest smirk plastered on his face. "I'll-" Choso raised a brow as you stammered. You didn't know what you were gonna do if he refused. His smirk widened at your loss of words. "What? You'll what?" Being tongue-tied meant you had already lost the argument right when it started escalating to threats.

Unfortunately, you had no threats in mind. Damn him and how good he smelled right now. It ticked you off how weirdly attracted you were to him at the moment and you did everything you could to put that energy into thinking of a way to piss him off. "I'll call the cops and file a noise complaint."

He rolled his eyes and stepped back, leaning against his doorframe again. You were waiting for a response from him, but secretly regretting the threat of calling the cops. It wasn't like you were going to go through with it. Your mind was running with thoughts you knew shouldn't belong in your head, slightly fidgeting with your fingers as Choso's gaze remained on you. Burning heat spread across your cheek as his stare slammed into your eyes. "Okay. I'll turn it down," he finally speaks. "On one condition." You tilted your head, placing your hands behind your back. "Who did you have over tonight?"

"What?" His heavy eye didn't falter for a second after he spoke. "Answer the question and I'll lower the volume." You were delighted with the easy condition but as happy as you were came confusion. Why did he want to know? "I answer the question and you'll have it lowered?" you repeat, seeking reassurance. "As low as you want, sweetheart." Sweetheart... Why did it feel as if any of your rational and sane thoughts had escaped your head right when that name so casually rolled off his tongue? Especially in a way that shouldn't have you fantasizing about him. You blamed the alcohol for causing the way you felt. "So? Spit it out," he demanded, snapping you out of reality. "Cat got your tongue or are you too scared to admit that you were with someone and had some fun?" What was this guy thinking? Never mind that, the way he was acting suddenly gave you a little ego boost, reminding you about who has to be in charge of this situation.

"So impatient, Choso. Didn't you hear? Curiosity killed the cat," you smirked. He leaned forward, "Everyone always leaves that saying unfinished. Didn't you hear? Satisfaction brought him back, sweetheart." The way his mood was dead serious only pushed the situation to make you feel even hotter. "Now I hate to rush the moment, but I have a party to get back to. If you want the volume to be lowered, then you better fess up and tell me who you were with." You clenched your fists, fighting the urge to give him a piece of your mind by the way he was talking down on you. "Fine, fine! I was with Shoko. Shoko Ieri from high school." Choso steps away from you, placing his hand on his door. "Alright. Goodnight then." The door closed, leaving you with a lowered volume from the other side and still a heavy head.

Choso leaned against his door, his heart pounding against his chest as he replayed the encounter with you in his mind. He had always been aware of your presence; you were the girl who captivated him in a way he couldn’t articulate. Sixteen years had passed since those chaotic childhood days, yet the memory of your fiery spirit and stubbornness remained vividly alive in his thoughts. Even now, when you stood before him, looking so determined and slightly intoxicated in your little tank top and shorts, he couldn’t help but feel drawn to you. As he turned back into his apartment, a stark contrast to the chaotic swirl of emotions inside him. Gojo and Geto had organized a small gathering, and despite the noise, he wasn’t in the mood for a party anymore. Not when he was buzzing from your confrontation.

“Choso! You’re not just gonna stand there all night, are you?” Gojo called from the living room, pulling him out of his thoughts. The white-haired jokester was sprawled across the couch, a beer in hand, while Geto lounged in an armchair, flipping through his phone with a disinterested expression. “Yeah, man. C’mon, don’t leave us hanging,” Geto chimed in, looking up from his phone. Choso trudged over, taking a seat on the edge of the couch, his thoughts still lingering on you. “What’s the plan? Just drink and laugh at stupid shit?”

"No fucking shit. Who was at the door?" Gojo asked. Choso shot him a glance and shook his head, "Just a noise complaint from my neighbour. It's nothing. Just continue where we left off." Gojo and Geto looked at each other before nodding their heads, continuing their yap. As the night wore on, Choso felt increasingly restless. He leaned back, crossed his arms, and tried to immerse himself in the conversations, but every laugh reminded him of you. The familiar faces of his friends were around him, but all he could picture was the fiery girl who lived just next door.

THE NEXT MORNING !

It had to be at least seven in the morning or even six by the way the sun was shining too brightly through the curtains of your window. Your alarm was found on the ground and seemed to have been knocked over. You rolled around, grabbed your pillow and roughly muzzled it over your face attempting to shield your eyes from the brightness. A hard-hitting headache kicked in but your tiredness from the previous night hadn't left. You threw the pillow to the side and sat up straight, stretching your arms. Going through your morning routine was nearly impossible with a hangover present. So you just brushed your teeth, got a hot cup of water and made your way to the balcony to take in some fresh air. The mug you took a sip out of was warm, heating your hands as the cool breeze from outside hit it. When you turn to your left to glimpse more of the view, you catch a sight you wished you hadn't discovered.

A still shirtless neighbour staring directly at you from his close balcony as he sipped on something from his mug. Choso's hair was tied back and eye-bags were visible even from the distance you were at. "Morning," he spoke. His voice was still deep and raspy after having just woken up. You nod your head, memories of last night flooding back into your head. "You get any sleep?" he asks, his expression showing that he doesn't care about what your answer is going to be but your gut told you otherwise. "No, not much." You kept your answer short and simple, keeping your distance from him. The feeling he gave you wasn't something that could be easily trusted especially after years of knowing him. Even with the sounds of cars and ongoing traffic outside filling the air, it still felt awkwardly quiet now that none of you were talking. You took a sip out of your cup, uncomfortably tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear afterwards.

"Do you still think about middle school?" Choso breaks the trend of silence. You raise a confused brow, caught off guard by his sudden question. "Middle school?" you repeat. He leans against the railing of the balcony, the small gap between yours and his being something you could be grateful for. "Yeah," he answers. "That's... random." You take a moment to think about it. It was so long ago that you don't remember that much about your days there. "Not really. Why?" Choso smiles. "You had a record for being a goody-two-shoes if I remember correctly." You roll your eyes, "And you had a record for causing all the trouble there. You didn't even have a reason most of the time." Before you even knew it, he managed to get you all fired up with only a few sentences. “Not really. You were always so serious. I wondered what it would take to get you to loosen up,” he says, his gaze steady and probing, those dark eyes searching for something in yours. You laugh, the sound is almost incredulous—a mix of disbelief and amusement that dances in the air between you.

“And you thought causing trouble was the way to do that?” Choso nods. “Absolutely,” he replies, leaning in slightly, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper as if sharing a secret only you could hear. The air between you crackles with unspoken tension, charged with memories of past escapades and the thrill of possibilities. You can almost feel the warmth radiating from his skin, the casual intimacy of the moment drawing you in. “You still seem like you’re stuck in that same routine. Being stuck in the same loop of following nothing less than the rules, aren't you, sweetheart? ” His words hit a nerve, and a rush of defensiveness rises within you. “Maybe I like my routine,” you counter, crossing your arms tightly, a shield against his probing gaze. Yet, even as you say it, doubt flickers in the back of your mind, a tiny voice questioning whether you truly find comfort in the mundane.

You glance down, noticing how your fingers fidget with the hem of your shirt, a clear sign of the restlessness brewing inside you. It’s a familiar feeling, one that has settled in your chest like a weight over the years. The thrill of spontaneity seems like a distant memory, and the thought of breaking free from your carefully constructed life sends a jolt of adrenaline through you. He's getting to you. You remember who you're talking to and snap out of the reckless thoughts. "Not that it's your business anyway," you add to your previous sentence. "When did you even move here?" He shrugs, "Before you. Maybe three months prior." His answer causes you to raise a brow, "I've been coming in and out of this apartment for almost a week now. How come I've never seen you even once?"

“Guess I’ve been keeping a low profile,” he replied a hint of a smirk playing on his lips, his dark eyes glinting with mischief. “I like my peace and quiet. But it looks like that’s changed now that you’re my neighbour.” You felt a mix of irritation and something else—something you weren’t ready to confront. “Right, because peace and quiet is exactly what you’re all about,” you said, crossing your arms again, trying to project confidence despite the flutter in your stomach. Touché,” he said, his voice dripping with amusement, leaning back against the railing with easy confidence. “But hey, it’s not all bad. Maybe you just needed someone to shake things up a bit.” You roll your eyes. “Shake things up? Is that your idea of fun?” You raised an eyebrow, attempting to keep the conversation light, but the air around you thickened with tension. You could feel his gaze tracing your features, and it made your pulse quicken.

“Maybe,” he said, leaning in slightly, the space between you charged with an unexpected energy that felt almost electric. “You ever think about breaking out of that ‘goody-two-shoes’ routine? Just for one night?”

Your heart raced at the suggestion, thoughts whirling as you considered the implications. “And what would you suggest? A wild night out with you?” Your tone was half-joking, but a part of you wondered what that could entail. "Cute," he replied, sarcasm dripping from his words, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "But I meant going out with your friends if you still have any, sweetheart." You stepped closer to where the railing was, feeling the cool metal against your palms as you leaned over, looking out at the sprawling city below. The morning light bathed everything in a warm glow, but your focus was entirely on Choso.

"What's that supposed to mean, asshole?" Choso feels satisfied at the sight of getting a rise out of you. He leans casually against the railing, the morning air crackling with tension. “Just calling it like I see it. You’ve got this whole perfect image to uphold, but everyone breaks eventually." You narrowed your eyes, crossing your arms defiantly. “So, what? You think I’m just sitting around waiting for permission to have fun? I have a life, you know.” You narrowed your eyes, crossing your arms defiantly. “Right. A life filled with study sessions and early bedtimes.” He chuckled, clearly enjoying the banter and the sound was both infuriating and oddly charming. The way he carried himself—carefree, a little reckless—made your heart thump in a way that both excited and terrified you. “What's wrong with that?” you challenged, trying to regain some control. “Not everyone wants to be reckless like you, Kamo.”

"'Fun' doesn't just mean trouble and recklessness. It's really upsetting how you and many others look at it like that," he countered, causing you to run out of excuses. "I'm perfectly happy with where I'm at right now so what are you trying to do, hm? What's the scheme here?" Choso crossed his arms, the front pieces of his hair flowing with the wind slightly in a way that made your stomach do a flip. "There is no scheme here. And since you're getting so defensive, I'll back off. Goodbye, Ms. Neighbor." He took a step back, sliding the door closed behind him with a finality that left you standing there, breathless. The silence that followed felt heavy, pressing against your chest as you turned back to the view, the city sprawling below you, full of life and possibility.

Frustration bubbled up within you, mingled with an unexpected yearning. Did he really think he knew you? Your routine? The familiar comforts of studying and early bedtimes were just that—comforts. But the way he challenged you made you wonder if you were missing out on something.

You stared at the door he had just closed, the weight of his words lingering in the air. Maybe he had a point. The thought of breaking free, even just for a night, sent a thrill through you. But the idea was terrifying. As you stood there, you felt the urge to retreat back into your safe little world, but the thrill of possibility tugged at you. What if you did reach out to your friends? What if you let loose for one night? The thought of laughter, music, and dancing sent a shiver down your spine.

With a deep breath, you stepped back inside your apartment, heart racing. Maybe it was time to shake things up. A wild night didn’t sound so bad after all. You glanced back at the door, a spark of rebellion igniting within you. Perhaps it was time to see what life could be like beyond the confines of your routine. You pick up your phone and dial Shoko's number. After a few rings and a wave of anxiety washing over you, she picks up. "Do you wanna go out to the bar tonight?"

10:45 PM.

You walk into a local bar, Shoko standing by your side. "Are you sure? I get that you're trying something new but you hate everything that's sloppy. And a guy is literally over there making out with a woman and pressing up on her. Gosh... they need to take it somewhere private soon." Shoko's suggestion sounded like heaven to you right now. The apartment building was calling your name and you felt a rush of regret hitting you in the face. "I'll be fine. It's only a night anyways." You glimpse around the bar and see a familiar set of eyes latched onto yours. "What the fuck is he doing here?" Shoko looks into the direction your eyes were latched on after hearing your question. There standing was Choso Kamo. As you stood frozen, the air between you and Choso felt electric, charged with all the unspoken words and unresolved tension from earlier.

Shoko sighed and shook her head, "You have fun with that. I'm gonna go get some drinks." You nodded and she disappeared to the bar. Choso walked towards you, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his black zip-up hoodie. He smirked, that infuriatingly charming smile playing on his lips as he moved closer, the crowd around you seeming to disappear. “What a coincidence, huh?” he said, his voice low and teasing. “Fancy seeing you here, sweetheart.” Your lips pursed. “Right,” you shot back, your irritation flaring. “Just because I’m trying to have a night out doesn’t mean I’m okay with your... little show here.” You gestured vaguely at the bar scene, and his gaze narrowed slightly, the challenge sparking in his eyes. “Little show?” he echoed, leaning in a fraction closer, his breath warm against your skin.

“You mean the one you were just about to join? Seems like I actually got to you, hm? You're gonna have more fun here than you think.” Choso's tall figure towered over you, he watched as you avoided eye contact with him. “Fun?” you scoffed, crossing your arms. “This isn’t gonna be anywhere close to fun. This is a disaster waiting to happen. Look at that guy over there—making out with a total stranger like he’s in a bad rom-com.” You nod your head towards the couple Shoko pointed out earlier. Choso moved his eyes towards them and then back at you, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a smirk. "Jealous?" he teases. "Of what?" He leans down, his mouth right beside your ear. "That she's actually kissing someone. I mean, you're so pent up all the time... It's almost obvious that you're not getting enough action. I almost feel bad." He pulled back away from you. "Tell me, sweetheart, how long has it been?"

"You- That's none of your business." He chuckles, "There's no need to be ashamed. I can offer some help, I'm quite the catch after all." Your cheeks flushed a slight red and he didn't need to see. You couldn't let him see. “Please,” you rolled your eyes, but your heart raced beneath your carefully constructed facade. “You’re more of a distraction than anything. You think you can charm your way through life and not get called out for it?” Your fists were clenched, wondering how much longer Shoko's gonna take with those drinks. “Maybe I like a little mess now and then.” He stepped closer, the warmth of his body radiating toward you, his voice dipping into a low, teasing tone. “Not everyone wants to play it safe. Not someone like you.”

“What's someone like me supposed to mean?” You took a half-step back, an instinctual move to reclaim your space, but it felt like a losing battle. “Someone who hides behind her books and schedules,” he said, his gaze piercing into yours, unrelenting and intense. It felt like he was peeling away layers you’d meticulously constructed, leaving you exposed. “You appear to be afraid of a rush, but I can see it. You crave it.” Your eyes slightly widened, “Stop pretending you know me,” you shot back, your pulse quickening with irritation and something deeper—something that made your heart race in a way you couldn’t quite understand. “You don’t have a clue what goes on in my head.” He leaned in closer, the air thickening between you. “Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea.”

The noise of the bar faded, replaced by the rapid beating of your heart. “But if you think you can just dismiss me, then maybe you’re the one who’s scared.” Your breath caught, the heat between you palpable and electric. “Scared? Of you? Don’t flatter yourself.” A smirk tugged on his lips. “Not flattery, just observation,” he replied. “But maybe you should be scared. I might just get you to do something reckless tonight.” You shook your head. “Reckless?” you echoed, your voice laced with a mix of annoyance and a flutter of excitement. “You think I’m just going to drop everything and follow you into chaos?”

“Why not? You’re already here.” His voice was smooth and seductive, the challenge hanging in the air like a promise. As he stepped even closer, the world around you seemed to dissolve into nothingness. The offer was tempting. Too tempting for your liking. You purse your lips, a faint smirk playing on his lips as he sees you considering it. "C'mon, you know you want to." You nod your head, "Fine."

TBC...

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fickleminder · 11 days ago

Text

50 Ways to Die in the Devildom

To prevent another war, one of the cardinal requirements of the exchange program was for the exchange students to be alive at the end of it. No one said anything about what happens in-between.

Content warnings: violence, blood, gore, lots of death. Halloween 2024 fic 👻

Diavolo nearly spat out his tea laughing. "In the freezer? Lucifer, you sly demon!"

"It got the job done, didn't it?" Lucifer took a sip from his own cup with a satisfied hum. "The human has a pact with one of us now, and there's nobody else I trust more than Mammon."

"Indeed. The responsibility will do him good, on top of securing our contingency plan if things go awry. Excellent work!"

"Thank you, Lord Diavolo."

"Well, that was fast."

"The human didn't even last one month—"

"All of you, shut up." Lucifer knelt next to your body on the floor of the student council room. "Mammon, use the pact to keep track of their soul. Beel, stop licking blood off the tiles and help Asmo with the cleanup. Levi, going for the jugular was quick but messy; you're on cleanup as well. Satan, prepare the materials for the resurrection spell."

"Seriously, all this over a stupid quiz…" Mammon grumbled.

Finally coming back to his senses, Levi spat out the chunk of your neck still in his mouth and started to scream.

Beel took one look at his half-eaten custard before transforming with a roar and stomping towards the culprits.

"N-Now wait a second, Beel! Lemme explain!" Mammon quickly put himself between you and his rampaging brother. He didn't want to have to participate in that dumb ritual again; calling souls back to their bodies was too much effort. "There's a good reason for—"

"You... ate... My... CUSTARD...!" Beel's fists smashed into the kitchen counter, the cupboards, the walls, and anything else he could get his hands on, while Mammon kept you behind him and dodged the blows. Any physical contact with Beel was sure to obliterate you in a heartbeat, and not even Satan would be able to put you back together if that happened.

With his attention focused on Beel, Mammon failed to notice when a chunk of concrete came flying in your direction, clobbering you squarely on the side of your head with a wet CRUNCH.

You hit the floor like a sack of rocks, and both demons froze at the sight of all the innards spilling out of your caved-in skull.

"Not again!" Mammon wailed loudly.

"I don't want to hear it."

Despite the very real threat to his life, Mammon still felt the need to rub it in Lucifer's face. "Hey, I'm just sayin', ya can't pin this one on me this time!"

"At least Luke didn't see anything. I hope." Beel frowned at the little angel's unconscious form in his arms, with the grimoire still clutched tightly in a death grip. The poor kid had fainted when Lucifer unleashed his power and... Well.

To prevent another war, one of the cardinal requirements of the exchange program was for the exchange students to be alive at the end of it.

No one said anything about what happens in-between.

You had literally dropped dead after Lucifer shifted into a higher demon form to intimidate you into getting out of his way. He never intended to use force against you to begin with, but had also completely forgotten that some things were just not meant for mortal eyes. Your eyeballs were burnt to a crisp, leaving behind charred, bloody sockets in your face.

Lucifer rubbed his temples with a sigh. "Mammon, take my card and go buy a new pair of human eyes. Make sure to get them in the right color."

"Ugh, fine, but you're getting Levi to call their soul back!"

Henry 1.0 purred loudly and coiled up to take a nap after his snack.

"Asmo, quit messing around and do something!"

"Shut up, Mammon! Or do you want to get eaten as well?"

"Mmm grilled snake..."

"For the last time, we're not eating Henry 1.0!"

The human-shaped lump in the giant snake's belly was unmoving.

"You realize that if they die, you ain't gonna get this kind of power anymore, right?"

Asmo froze, the drunk smile on his face faltering. Mammon had a point; Solomon had only lent you a tiny fraction of his magic, and yet you were able to draw out so much power in him! It was undeniable, you were one human he definitely had to hold on to.

"I think it's starting to digest—"

"Bad Henry! You spit them out right now or—"

Sighing, Asmo batted his eyelashes at the giant snake and began working his charm.

"I can explain—"

"Let me guess. You tried to make a pact with the human in another pointless bid to get under my skin. They refused, and so you chopped them up. Not exactly helping your chances here, are you."

"Tch. I can put them back together—"

"You'll have to convince one of your brothers to call their soul back, since you obviously can't do it yourself—"

"Don't you think I know that already?!"

"Stop throwing books at me! You should know better than to lose control of your wrath—"

"SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP—"

"Wait, that book is—!"

*THUNK*

"…"

"F—"

Belphegor knew you and his brothers were close, but he was still determined to make his point. When he had thrown your body down the stairs and into the foyer as though you were nothing more than a mangled rag doll, he expected tears, anger, heartbreak—

"…Seriously? We just finished the last ritual yesterday!"

"ROFL not it!"

"Not it."

"Not it~"

"Belphie, I missed you so much! Oh, not it."

"You guys are the WORST!"

—not whatever the hell this was.

"What the fuck is happening?!" Belphie snarled, pointing furiously at your corpse. Blood was soaking into the carpet, yet even Lucifer looked only mildly annoyed. "Why aren't any of you mad? The exchange program—"

And then your body dissipated into wisps of fading light, another you poked your head over the top of the stairway to stare at the commotion, and Lucifer gave a long, deep sigh before revealing the secret he'd been keeping for centuries.

You'll get the rest when we get our money back! The note read.

Inside the parcel it came with was a severed hand with broken fingers. The area where your forearm had been sawed off was still sluggishly oozing blood, but Mammon guessed you had probably already bled out by that point.

He shouldn't have left you to walk home by yourself after class, but what's done was done. All he could do now was come and get you and put you back together. It was his responsibility as your first, after all.

Mammon cracked his knuckles with a grin. Time to show those lesser demons why messing with the Great Mammon's human was a bad idea.

"How was I supposed to know they couldn't swim?" Levi complained despite looking thoroughly chastised.

"I shouldn't have had to tell you that a mere human doesn't stand a chance against Lotan's floods." Lucifer pinched the bridge of his nose. Behind him, Satan was attempting something called CPR, having read about it in a book and wanting to try it out. There was a loud CRACK, followed by a quiet "oh shit", and that was when Lucifer decided to call it a day.

"Levi, cleanup duty. For the entire house."

"But—!"

"Satan, ritual. You can handle the spell on your own this time."

"Tch."

Levi and Beel watched from the broken window on the second floor as you floated face down in the garden's pool fountain. At first they thought the fall would have killed you, but apparently the allure of water from the siren's song was too strong for that.

"…Should I try CPR?" Beel asked after a while.

"Please don't, you'll end up shattering all their ribs like Satan did." Levi grimaced. "Tell you what, if you call their soul back, I'll perform the spell and nobody else has to know."

"Deal."

"Drop it."

*growling*

"Cerberus! I said: Drop. It."

Whining sadly, the giant hellhound lowered his middle head and carefully deposited his cargo at his master's feet. The left head nudged it gently with his snout, and the right one howled mournfully when it did not move.

Lucifer couldn't help the small wince as he took in your state. He could tell it had been quick at least; it wasn't the first time you had to take Cerberus out for his daily walk, but he had likely been in a playful mood today, hence the accident.

Said hellhound was clearly remorseful and kept glancing at the small pile of snacks and toys you had brought along to entertain him during his outing. Even Lucifer softened at the sight, and as he bent down to scoop you into his arms, broken spine and charred flesh and all, he found himself looking forward to personally calling your soul back to him.

When your skin started to break out and swell rapidly, Asmo realized that something had gone terribly wrong.

"Darling!" He screeched as you clawed at your throat, which had ballooned in the few seconds Asmo took to reach you. The moisturizer he had given you dropped to the floor, and he quickly picked it up to inspect it.

"Acid lavender scented... Demonologist approved..." Asmo murmured as he read the printed label. "For external use only... Hyperallergenic—"

By the time the answer finally clicked in his brain, you had already turned blue. Not a good color on you, in his humble opinion.

The curse was simple: the afflicted would experience random bouts of frostbite on their fingers and toes, no matter how warmly they dressed. The nipping cold would serve as an excellent inconvenience and at worst, it could completely freeze over entire limbs.

Perfect for a stuck up older brother who always dressed like a prude.

Unfortunately for Satan and Belphie, Lucifer was not the first one to touch the newly-cursed air conditioner remote.

"W-what's going on…" You slurred on the floor, curled up and hugging yourself for warmth. You weren't shivering anymore, which was a good sign, right? "Wh-why… s'cold…"

Satan and Belphie exchanged looks. The effects of the prank were clearly more severe on humans, but even then it didn't seem like you were going to kick it anytime soon. They could try to break the curse, but given how complicated it was to cast it in the first place, maybe they were better off putting you out of your misery.

"It's a Devildom thing. We get cold snaps out of the blue sometimes," Satan explained as he cradled you close, feeling as though he were holding a block of ice. "Due to the skies being constantly dark here..."

Belphie's magic trickled into you as Satan distracted you with magical theory, and before long you had gone still in his arms, eyes closed.

"...Are you sure we can't tell Solomon? I mean, we have solid proof that his cooking is lethal now, so this is technically his fault."

"Who the fuck brought his food into the house to begin with?!"

"I did, sorry. He must have snuck some stuff into the basket of pastries Simeon and Luke gave us."

"Seriously, this guy needs to take a hint when everybody tells him to stay out of the kitchen..."

Lucifer was seething. "What. Happened."

"I didn't do nothin'!" Mammon exclaimed, still clutching you tightly. You looked like you were sleeping in his arms, if not for the blue of your lips and your still chest. "We were just walking home, and then the next thing I know, they're eating dirt!"

"Liver failure, brain damage, collapsing lungs…" Satan looked extremely grim after assessing the current state of your body. "There's no singular cause; everything's just… falling to pieces."

Asmo paled. "But why? We've been so careful! We always got the freshest parts, and there hasn't even been an incident in weeks!"

Levi and the twins nodded frantically.

But the truth was undeniable. There were only so many times you could have your organs and limbs replaced or repaired with magic before your body decided to break down completely. Death was inevitable; it was coming for you regardless of how often you'd already cheated it.

How long did you have left before they couldn't bring you back anymore? You had exceeded all their expectations, lasting until the end of the exchange program and beyond, and they'd grown too attached to let you walk out of their lives permanently. You had gone from becoming a chore for them to prevent all-out war to something akin to a beloved house pet.

"What do we do?" Mammon looked to Lucifer for answers.

But for once, the first-born had none.

"Blacked out from stress, you say? How uninspired."

"I know, right? You would think they'd be able to come up with new excuses over time, but nooo, it's always the same old story."

Michael gave a deep sigh. "Those brothers never learn. How long was it before they became complacent and stopped wiping your memory?"

"Four months." You grinned and reached for another scone on the tray of pastries. "To be fair, they do tend to make it quick so there usually isn't much to remember to begin with."

"I still can't believe those idiots thought the Celestial Realm wouldn't find out," Thirteen snorted. "How dare they think I don't know how to do my job!"

"Now Thirteen, it's natural for souls to spend some time in Purgatory before ascending or becoming Damned. Their mistake was assuming the pacts gave them any claim in the first place."

You tilted your head slightly, as though you were listening to something far away. "Speaking of, I think I hear them calling! Thanks for the tea, it was lovely chatting with you, as always."

Michael frowned. "You can't keep this up forever."

"Chill out, Mikey—"

"Don't call me that."

"—it's all good! No need to start a war in my name or anything."

Thirteen rolled her eyes. "He's right, you know. And just because you had nothing going for you in the human realm doesn't mean you have to keep playing along with those brothers in the Devildom."

"What can I say?" You shrugged nonchalantly as the reaper prepared to escort your soul back to your body. "They make me laugh."

#writing #obey me #obey me fanfic #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #tw violence #tw blood #tw gore #tw death

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wishful-sinful-9 · 3 months ago

Text

WANNA BE YOUR DOG

Chapter One

Cagefighter!Logan Howlett x Reader

Chapters | Masterlist

Winter already has its icy grip on the world outside, but in this bar, it’s as hot as the equator.

There wasn’t a shot in hell you would’ve picked this job - bartending in a sketchy underground cage-fighting joint - if it weren't for sheer desperation. Sweaty bodies packed tightly together. Impatient men demanding service everywhere you turn. Grunts and shouts and wails of pain from the cage.

When the fighting was over, the majority of patrons stumbling out the door, you could finally breathe. Wipe down the bartop, wipe away the night.

“Hey, bub, can I get a beer?”

The Wolverine heaves his weary body on a barstool and makes his usual request - the bar owners’ main source of income, the undefeatable beast of a man got a drink free after striking every opponent down with a few swings of his fist. The body hit the floor; another bet was won.

“Here you go.” You avoid his gaze as you pass him the bottle. He grunts his thanks.

A few months ago, you lost your previous job, though fortunately you had a roommate to cover your half of the rent until you found another. Unfortunately, said roommate had already planned on moving out around that same time. Therefore this sad little nightly routine was the only means of avoiding homelessness. What would your parents think, if they were to see you in this dingy, overtly illegal, shithole of a bar? You smile slightly at the thought as you dry off a glass.

Sensing eyes on you, you glance up to meet the Wolverine’s dark gaze, expressionlessly trained on you. Heat creeps into your cheeks and you turn away to pick up another glass.

–

“Shit, shit, shit!”

You slam your car door shut behind you, aborting your fruitless attempts to start it. You wrap your fleece-lined jacket tightly around yourself as you glare at the crappy old piece of metal and go over your options. Option, singular. Walk down a pitch-black icy road. You cuss again and ram a boot into the door.

“You alright there?” A gruff voice from behind startles you.

Turning around, you’re met with the looming presence of the cage fighter, donning a motorcycle jacket, the high collar and angular shoulders making him look even more intimidating. He looks at you with a raised brow.

“Er - well - no, not really,” you stammer out, “my car won’t start.”

“Oh.”

He remains several feet away from you, as if approaching a wild animal. You scuff the toe of your shoe in the gravel like a shy schoolgirl. “Yeah. Um…”

“Would you like a ride?”

He’s offering you a ride.

You shouldn’t. This is a dangerous man; a fighter for a living. And beyond that, you had reason to suspect he might not be just a man. You were sceptical of the idea of mutants, but after watching him take many a vicious blow and emerging without so much as a scrape, you had good reason to believe you were in the presence of one. So you shouldn’t. You really shouldn’t get into the scary guy’s car. Even if your teeth were chattering and your toes numb in your boots. You shouldn’t.

If your parents would be terrified at the sight of your workplace, they’d faint at the sight of you meekly accepting the Wolverine’s offer.

You put all associations of kidnappers with white vans out of your head as you follow him to his. You jam your hands deep into your pockets and clench your jaw tight to prevent the audible chattering. Once in the passenger seat, you breathe a small sigh of relief when the first thing he does after switching on the ignition is turn the heater all the way up.

“Put your hands on it so they can warm up.” He grumbles. You oblige. “Why don’t you have gloves on?”

“I think I left them in my car,” you reply, feeling somewhat foolish. You wonder if making other people feel about two inches tall was a hobby of his or an unconscious habit.

He says nothing. He doesn’t turn the radio on. His eyes remain trained on the road ahead. You glance at him once or twice, but his expression is blank and his mouth is clamped shut. Behind you, you are aware of the narrow bed and minimalistic living set up that brings to you a wave of affection for your one-storey rental that has caused you so much grief these past few months. You had always assumed cage fighting must be pure sport to him, and that there was some daytime job he worked to support himself, but now you're beginning to wonder if his sole income is the bets placed on his fists.

He parks a little way down the opposite side of the road as there are cars in front of your house. You pause with your hand on the door handle, watching him scan the area before grunting, “Iʼll walk you in.”

You fumble with the latch on your gate, letting your hair sweep over your face to disguise your rosy cheeks when he leans over you to do it himself. Taking extra care not to slip on your doorsteps and make an even bigger fool of yourself, you jiggle your key into the lock and turn to face…you don’t know his real name. Oh god.

“Thank you so, so much…”

“Logan.”

“Yes! Logan. Thank you Logan.” You give him an awkward smile as he nods his head, again, expressionless.

He grunts a humble “no problem,” and turns to walk away as you step halfway over the threshold. Your mind returns to his van. The sorry little bed that you’re quite frankly surprised can support his broad stature. Before you can psych yourself out of it, you blurt out: “Wait! I have a spare room?”

He halts, caught off guard. “What?”

“If you wanted to stay the night,” you cringe at the words as you say them, “since you went through the trouble of taking me home. You're welcome to. If you want.”

The silence is deafening. He blinks at you and the sudden urge to shoot yourself in the head is overwhelming. Oh my god, what am I think-

“Alright. If it’s okay.”

–

Naturally, he’d gone to fetch a change of clothes and a toothbrush, and you took the few minutes to shove stray underwear in your laundry basket, bin the empty bottle of wine on your kitchen counter, and clear away the pile of well-loved makeup products cluttering the bathroom sink. You mentally cursed yourself for living like the cover of the Stereotypical Sad Single Female magazine.

A new wave of embarrassment washed over you when you showed him to your roommate’s old room, the bed still made in the comically girly pink floral sheets she had left behind. “Very feminine.” he’d commented.

When you’d hastily excused yourself to bed, you let out a long, self-loathing groan into your pillow.

–

It’s six-thirty in the morning, a blasphemous hour to be awake at, and Logan is trying to be quiet on the other side of the wall, in spite of his ridiculously heavy footsteps. You lie awake as he shuffles to the bathroom, wait until the shower is on, then haul yourself out of bed because part of you worries he'll sneak out like a guilty one-night stand without you getting the chance to atleast make him coffee.

By the time he’s emerged, dressed, from the bathroom you've managed to stick some bacon in a pan and made a pot of coffee. He seems taken aback, and it makes you far more comfortable to know that there's one emotion that can display itself on his stoic face: surprise.

“Sorry if I woke you up.” He glances at you as you set his plate on the table.

“It’s fine,” you reply, sitting opposite. Now that the Wolverine is sat at your dainty kitchen table, he seems less like a man-bashing beast and more like a stray dog you've ushered into your home. Thoughtfully, you begin to eat, suddenly feeling far more able to look at him directly. “Can I ask you something?”

He stops, looking at you slowly. “Ask me what?”

Now or never. You inhale deeply and softly say, “How come you never have a single bruise to show for those beatings you take?”

A pause. He chews his bacon and swallows it carefully, analysing your face.

“Do you really want to know?” his voice is low and eyes narrow. You nod. With a sigh, he sets down his cutlery and lifts a fist - the swift sound of sharp metal being unsheathed cuts through the domestic morning quiet as three knife-like claws protrude from his knuckles. Your eyes widen and your knife and fork clatter onto your plate.

“You’re a-”

“This metal runs through me. I think it’s attached to my skeleton.” He explains, rotating his fist so you can better gawk at the claws. “I can also heal extremely fast. There’s other things too, like my sense of smell being advanced…”

“Like a wolverine,” you say, “apt name.”

He grunts and you absent-mindedly lift a finger to touch the deadly metal, “They’re sharp.” he snaps, retracting them. You sit back quickly. He clears his throat. “Sorry. Just didn't want you to…”

“It’s okay. Ahem…”

You don’t dare ask another question despite the many that were whirring in your mind, feeling that the tension has risen once more surrounding the subject. The two of you eat, in silence again.

Once he has his shoes and jacket on, you show him to the door. In spite of the information revealed at the table, somehow his presence makes you a little less nervous than it did the previous night. He falters in the threshold, turning to you.

“Thanks, for letting me stay and everything,” he says. “You didn’t have to.”

You smile lightly, “It’s no problem, really. Thank you for the ride home.”

He nods, “See you, then.”

“See you, Logan.”

You watch him from the window in your door as he crosses the street, lighting up a cigar. If your parents could see you now.

a/n: so sorry for this shaky writing 😭 this is my first time working on a series and I suckkk at starting things so sorry if this falls a little flat - might go back and re-edit when I'm not so tired but oh well! if you'd like to be tagged in the next part please let me know :))

@fallout-girl219 @viviannagiorgini

#logan howlett x reader #logan howlett #logan howlett imagine #logan howlett smut #smut #wolverine smut #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #wbyd #wannabeyourdog

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shotmrmiller · 10 months ago

Note

okay so !!!! so what if you’re a jealous and possessive pet? like your boy tells you it’s okay to play with the other boys and the other pets and even encourages you like sucking their cock or riding them or eating out one of the other pets but the image of him doing that with someone else’s pet just shatters you. if they’re in a different room that’s bad but being able to see it happen is even worse. you can see the smile they give and the sounds they make and you thought you were special to them but it doesn’t feel like that — how would the boys reconcile something like that?

like knowing the other boys and pets are sharing and playing and you feel bad, especially when they’re all together and everyone is playing but your boy is the only one who’s not and it tears you up because you want him to enjoy and have fun but the thought of him kissing someone else or fucking them, finishing inside them… you could cry.

(bonus angst where one of the boys goes and visits another pet and comes back smelling like them, maybe marked and obviously fucked, and you hadn’t necessarily talked about that yet and it just crushes you and you refuse to sleep in the same bed as them for…. well, for awhile.)

UGH. YOU. I LOVE ANGST.

im a whore for hurt/no comfort so ill try to help write something here cuz if it was me, they can kick rocks. but its not. So.

for the first part, oh man. It's a bottle-it-in situation, imo, because i feel this in my soul. The low grunts you worked so hard to wrestle out of them are easily tumbling out of their mouth now, because of your hard work. It's something so gut-wrenching because that face of ecstasy should only be for you? Then the insecurities kick in. What if they're prettier, what if they're tighter, what if they're simply in another league altogether? (this is me as a hit dog that is hollering)

he's never treated your playdates as a chance to essentially cheat without cheating, he honestly only wanted you to make friends—wanted to expand on the kink you live and breathe by. But regardless, that's how it feels. And this is where the shutdown begins. The silence, the lack of enthusiasm for wanting to put on your collar, the distancing, and when he says, "Does my pet want to play with me today?" you burst into tears. Ugly sobbing, loud wails.

He freezes, for a second, because never in the time you've been together has he ever heard you cry like this. It's agonizing and when he immediately throws himself at your feet, he tries to cup your face with his large hands when you jerk yourself away from his touch.

You've never rejected his touch.

His heart cracks with hairline fractures because this is his love, his future that's falling into pieces in front of him and you don't even want his comfort. He lowers his hands and fists at the fabric of his trousers to hold back from reaching out to you.

For the first time in a long time, his eyes well with tears, and he swallows thickly, trying to open up his throat a bit to be able to say something, anything.

His voice warbles as he says, "Baby, talk to me." He gives you plenty of time to respond, but you don't. Once the tears are exhausted and your body is worn out, you simply turn your head to the side, eyes away from him. The tears that had distorted his vision now fall, dripping onto the cold floor he's still kneeling on. You don't even want to look at him.

"Talk to me, baby, please." His forehead touches your knee. "Please." His tone is desperate as he begs. The sight of a man who's killed people with his bare hands, sniveling by your feet pulls at your own heartstrings. Sigh.

"Would you like to know where you erred?" He whips his head up to look at you, nodding like an idiot.

"Your mistake, was assuming I wanted to share and be shared." He opens his mouth to say something, but you're not here to listen to him. He's here to listen to you.

"No. You presumed I wanted to the same as the other pets, just because we share the same kink? I had to sit there and watch— listen to you fuck someone else, and I couldn't say anything because then I would've been the buzzkill."

You clench your jaw and look directly into his eyes. "Do you know what it's like? No. You don't. You forget that the boys are your friends, your brothers in arms. Not mine. I sat with acquaintances, at best, and had to stomach whatever the fuck that was."

"I no longer wish to—" but he panics here, adapts a crazy-eyed look and cuts you off.

"No, no, no. Please, god no. You're my everything, you, I—" he hiccups, and his shoulders start to shake once he wraps his arms around your waist, and lowers his head onto your knees again, and chokes out, "I am nothing without you. Please."

Having cried all your tears, your sadness fades into sharp, biting anger. "It didn't seem like it though. You were quick to pass me around like some harlot. You're just gonna give me to anyone you see? Hm? What about the neighbor that has been hitting on m—" and he jerks his head back up, eyes deadly, dark with hostility.

"I'd fucking kill him for even having the audacity to ask if he could touch you the way I do."

Scoffing, you say, "And that's how I felt. Fucking strangers touching what should be only mine, kissing what is only mine," your tone turns hushed, "what I thought was mine, anyway."

Holding his gaze, you purse your lips. "I need time to think. You broke my trust. I'm not sure how to move forward from here."

this is too long im sorry uh, so he gives you all the time in the world, all the space you need, for which you're grateful. He's not overbearing, never crowds you. never says anything out of line. He seems fully repentant, dotes on you like his only reason for existing is to keep you as happy as you can feel. He tells you he loves you every bloody day, even if you don't repeat it back. He says it firm, unwavering.

And that's the balm that allays the pain in your heart. But you love him, still, so so much. With a deep breath, you tell him that you're not going to leave him, that you love him still and that's why it hurt the way that it did. But he'll have a ton of groveling to do.

The shaky smile he gives is full of relief. He pulls you to him, in an embrace so tight that you can barely even breathe. And after, he holds your face so tenderly, as if you're made of porcelain, and asks for a kiss, one you agree to. It conveys everything he's been sayings all this time, that he loves you.

and months pass, intimacy slowly turns back to what it was, but with reverent kisses and worship spilling from his lips. Words so sweet, that you break down in tears mid-act because you feel something finally shift back into place. Ofc, he freaks because "Darling, oh god, what's happened" but you pull him in for a kiss, and just tell him that you love him so much. His smile is soft as he says it back.

Then you pull out the collar again, and he panics but you calm him. That you feel ready. You want to play with your owner, and your heart is in his hands, to please take care of it.

A couple of tears fall from his eyes as he clicks your collar back around your neck and swears to never hurt you this way again.

Playdates turn into him being the only one to touch you and vice versa. And he answers to no one when they ask why.

i had a good time im sorry its so long I JUST LOVE ANGST PLEASE.

I hope i gave you what you were looking for ❤

#call of duty #tf 141 x reader #141 pet play

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sugarphoenixlovesfanfic · 2 months ago

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better off without me ◦ . ◦

synopsis: Aventurine thinks he knows what's best for the both of you. a/n: angsty oneshot I wrote based off of a prompt from here. tags: angst, aventurine, aventurine x reader, sad ending

ao3 link here!

You watch as the blond gambler saunters into the house, acting as if his very presence didn’t make your heart bloom and wilt simultaneously.

“Did you miss me, sweetheart?”

The last few weeks blur in your mind. All those days and nights anxiously watching your phone, waiting for a text. A call. A note. Anything to let you know he’d be back, or that he was doing fine, or that he was thinking of you. Maybe even an “I’m missing you” but, clearly, for the gambler that was too much.

You thought he had changed. You thought maybe there was something blooming, between the long nights and the expensive gifts.

With the way the gambler was acting, as though nothing had changed, despite not returning any of your messages for weeks, there was nothing.

You ball your fists, tears stinging your eyes, as you rise from the living room couch and come to stand a couple feet away from him.

“Where were you?” you demand, trembling. “Where were you all this time?”

You see a hint of an emotion pass through his face. Could swear that it was guilt, sadness, pity. Even self-hatred. But just as soon as it had come, it was gone, and he was back to his strange grin.

“Don’t you remember? I told you I was going on an assignment before I left.”

“Why didn’t you return any of my calls? Or my messages?” Hot droplets trail rivers down your cheeks, pitter-pattering on the ground. “You could’ve let me know you were okay. Or alive.”

“I was busy, darling. I couldn’t—”

You smack him across the face.

“Busy? Too busy for me?” You practically scream at him. The impact of your hit knocks off his serene mask, and now he’s looking at you with a stunned expression. “You didn’t have time for just one text back. Just one!

“Just one would have been enough,” you sob, pulling away and clapping a palm over your mouth as though you were trying to stem an open wound.

Aventurine looks away, and this time the expression of guilt doesn’t fade away when it comes. You stand there, waiting for an answer or an explanation, or even an angry insult. Anything. But the gambler doesn’t say anything.

“Do you even care about me at all? Did you ever care, all those nights? All the times we hung out? All those gifts you sent me?” The tears blur your vision now, and you wipe them away.

The gambler still doesn’t respond.

“Say something!” you yell.

“No, you’re right,” he says, and if your heart was already broken it felt as though he ground the pieces into the dirt with his heel. “You’re right. I’ve been terrible to you.”

“No, that’s not what I wanted to hear,” you say, almost too choked up to speak. “That’s not what I want. I want you to apologize, tell me you’ll try harder next time.”

“Sweetheart, you don’t deserve me,” Aventurine says, looking at you. “You should move on.”

“No!” you yell. Why was he just giving up so easily? “I want to save us, why don’t you understand? Why won’t you try to hold on to us like I am?”

Aventurine goes quiet again, and you can’t handle it anymore, your body wracking from each sob you let out.

“Fine. Leave. Go. And never come back again.” The words are barely perceptible in between your cries.

Aventurine freezes for a moment, looking at you as if to verify that this wasn’t a joke. When you don’t respond, he moves towards the door, and you watch him. Just before he leaves, he pauses, looking back at you for a long time, as though committing your form to memory.

And then he’s gone.

You crumble to the floor, crying and sobbing and wailing until you’re exhausted and empty.

♤♤♤

Aventurine looked at the text you sent.

How’s your assignment going? I miss you.

He sighed. It had been five hours since he touched down on this planet, and here you were, checking up on him.

He didn’t hate it. In fact, he loved it. It’s took every ounce of his strength not to reply to you.

But that was precisely why he couldn’t let himself reply.

The arrangement was meant to be temporary, noncommittal. He’d drop by for a night or two, then move on. Two nights became three, an afternoon became an evening, and a quick text became an hour long conversation. It wasn’t long after that he’d begun to shower you with gifts and affection throughout the day.

During one of your conversations over text, he’d typed in that’s what I love about you into the text bar.

Love? No, this was never supposed to turn into love.

But one thought turned into another, and suddenly he was recounting all the things he loved about you in his mind. I love your smile. I love your laugh. I love when you pout because something hasn’t gone your way. I love, I love, I love.

And then the thoughts of everything between the two of you flooded over him. The way he bought you gifts, the way you smiled at him, the way you checked on him throughout the day, the way he loved curling up with you at night.

Disastrous. No one was ever supposed to love him, least of all you. He was a hot mess of a man, distrustful and beaten and broken through and through. He was hateful, and awful. Unloveable.

He hit backspace, erasing what he had written. Replaced it with lol yeah. And decided then and there and he would slowly start to end things.

To protect you from himself.

So he’d text you a little less throughout the day. Stopped giving you gifts. You didn’t notice it, because it was only a week and then he went to his assignment, where he decided he would cut it all off, then and there.

He watched as you texted him, and then didn’t respond. Watched as your texts turned from joyful, to confused, to sad, to desperate. You didn’t stop texting him, though. You texted him almost everyday. Ironically, Aventurine realized what the full extent of your love was as he was cutting you off, but he couldn’t turn back now. It was better this way, he told himself. You were better off without him.

But when he came back, he realized he couldn’t keep himself away from you. He had to see you one last time.

So he paid you a visit, deciding to act as though nothing was wrong, just to twist the knife a little. To make sure you would absolutely hate him. And then when you told him to leave, he left. But not before giving you one last glance, memorizing your form in his mind, your tearstained cheeks he could kiss every day for the rest of his life, your wet eyes he could stare into forever. The anguished look on your face he desperately wished he could turn into a smile.

But there was no turning back now.

You’re better off without him. Yes, that’s what he tells himself as he lays in bed tonight and holds his phone to his heart, your past text messages displayed on the screen. That’s what he tells himself as a single tear falls from his lashes, wetting the pillowcase beneath him.

You’re better off without him.

dividers by @cafekitsune!

reblogs and comments appreciated!

#honkai star rail #hsr #aventurine #hsr fanfic #hsr fic #aventurine x reader #angst fic #angst with a sad ending #hsr aventurine #aventurine honkai star rail #honkai star rail fic #fanfictions. ✧

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adventuringblind · 9 months ago

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Safety In Your Arms

Dando x Reader

Genre: Hurt-comfort, maybe spicy via implied smut

Summary: Sometimes things go horribly wrong, nothing like what you expected, and it sends you hurtling towards emotions you never asked for. Lando and Daniel hate to see her this way.

Warnings: implied sexual content prior to and post incident, r@pe, anxiety, panic attacks, worried partners

Notes: Not sure this is exactly what you wanted because I don't write r@pe fantasies... regardless I hope the requester likes it :)

Side Note: Please leave notes! I think I might have been shadow banned recently as my fics are not being interacted with as much as they used to. Maybe it's just me being self-conscious because I know I couldn't care but I do.

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

Her heart thumping in her ears is all she can hear. Just last night, this had been something special and intimate. It was beautiful and loving. Now a stranger thinks he take something that isn't his.

Daniel and Lando are the only ones aloud to touch her like this. Their touch sends shivers down her spine in a pleasant way. This man makes her burn. His grip keeping her pinned to the wall feels like lighter being held against the bare flesh of her hips.

She was almost to the room. Back to the safety of her boys. Just up the stairs and down the hall. Curse the elevator for not working.

She's not sure where the adrenaline comes from. Her fight or flight response is pulling from some unknown energy reserve. It's enough for her to push him off her.

He falls backwards down the stairs. He's disoriented but still conscious. He looks like he might fight his way back to her and finish what he started.

She bolts. Her legs carry her to the door of her shared room. Fists bang on the door in terror.

The door to the stairwell slams open. She leans her weight into the door and slides down. Tears stream down her face at the hopelessness she feels in this situation.

The door flings open. Daniel on the other side catches her crumbling body before it hits the ground. She pushes inside and finds the farthest corner of the room.

She sees the silhouette of the man come to face Daniel. Lando is crouched down in front of her, trying to coax some kind of explanation out of her. She's too worked up to respond.

The loud crack of Daniel's knuckles fills her ears. Her attacker stumbles backwards once more, this time he's out cold. His body falls to the ground, with a soft thud muffled only by the carpeted floors.

Lando exchanges a few words with Daniel. The ringing in her ears makes it hard to understand. It's not until Lando hands her his sweatshirt to hold and Daniel is on the phone that she registers the safety.

"He - He - I was -" She can't even get the words out. Not without realizing how pathetic she sounds.

"Okay, breathe now love, you're safe." She takes a few breathes with Lando. "Can we try some yes or no questions?"

She hesitantly shakes her head yes. Slowly, she reaches to Lando. He intertwines his fingers with hers and both of them relax.

"Did her hit you at all?"

Yes. When he first got her against the wall.

"Did he touch you anywhere intimate?" Lando looks like he's trying not to cringe.

Yes. Everywhere. It burns still.

Lando look on the verge of tears. He's always been empathetic, hurting with them. "Did he - did he rape you?"

She breaks. Burries her face in Lando's sweatshirt and wails. Lando is careful not to touch her in any harsh way; lets her lead him.

Daniel clambers onto the floor with them. She doesn't look at him, but she knows he's there and that's enough. "Love, I'm so sorry this happened to you. The authorities are on their way to take, whoever that was, away. The question now is how you want to go forward." Daniel takes a heavy breath before continuing when she doesn't respond. "We have to go to the hospital, love. I don't want you to suffer any more than you already have."

She's still crying as they bundle her up in Lando's sweatshirt and Daniel's sweats. The soft baggy ones she steals from him all the time regardless.

"Dan, what about... him?" Lando stares at the man lying on the floor. She has to will herself not to vomit at the sight of him.

"I'll meet you there, okay? The police should be here soon." Lando looks hesitant to leave without Daniel. The Aussie plants a reassuring kiss to his forehead. "Take care of our girl, yeah?"

By the time they get checked in, Daniel texts that he's on his way. She hasn't said anything else since the hotel room, but Lando kindly offers her one of his airpods. The music helps, if only a little.

The nurse takes her back to the room alone. She wails the entire time until they let Lando, now with Daniel on his heels, back with her.

She dissociates through the entire visit. Not coherent enough to answer anything but yes or no questions.

The next few days are more of them same. Only getting out of bed to sit in the shower. The water hot enough to burn away her skin.

Daniel tells Max they had an emergency but doesn't go into any details. Max lets them fly out with him. She doesn't talk to him. Too tired to use any energy on conversation.

Daniel and Lando respect her space. They ask before touching her. They announce their presences, especially if they are behind her.

The bruises fade eventually. It's not like the physical evidence was going to remain on her forever. Still, with his handprints gone for her sight, they burn her every time the area is touched.

She doesn't wear anything aside from Lando and Daniel's clothes that are too big on her. Not until they are back in Monaco for the summer break. Four months after the incident.

Daniel gently coaxes her out of the warm clothing. The boys give her space until she's ready to join them and respect her boundaries when she asks not to be touched.

Her skin still burns.

By the end of summer break, she's had time to work her way up to new things. Small bits of skin-on-skin contact and hugs are quickly becoming her new lifeline. She missed being able to not fear the touch of another. Her mind tends to forget she's safe and fights anyone who tries to get to close.

By September she's able to sleep in the same bed as them without waking up panicked that they are going to hurt her in some way. The nightmares remain, but now she clings to the two males when she wakes crying.

On a particularly charged night filled with celebrations. The three of them work through it at her pace. She sets boundaries like her therapist had told her to do. Daniel and Lando tell her everything they are going to do before they lay a finger on her.

She missed this.

She missed them.

Their hands don't burn her skin anymore.

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dsireland86 · 22 days ago

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Anyway you could do one where Noah stops me from drinking myself into a mess and takes care of me loveingly. I struggled with alcohol addiction for the longest. Xoxox💚

This is a beautiful request. I'm sorry to hear about your struggle. I know all too well what it's like to battle a demon that you feel like you might not ever defeat. Hope this story helps and puts a smile on your face :)

No Longer Addicted

@philomenie @supersquirrel1996 @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @theanarchymuse95 @thisbicc @lma1986 @dominuslunae @shayzillaaaa @thefallenangel @fadingintothegrey @flowery-mess @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @stardustsirenmelody @romanreigns-supreme @anything-more-than-human @into-the-grey

Life is fucking hard sometimes. Too hard. We all need that one thing to help us get over or through shit, and that's not always a bad thing.

Except for when that one thing becomes your only thing, your only vise, your only outlet, your only hope. That one thing starts to consume you, taking with it everything about yourself you thought you knew.

That's what happened to her. Life got in the way. It got too hard. Her one bad day continued to be that one bad day until that bad day turned into a bad life. She hit the bottom and didn't have anyone waiting for her there.

She'd spent a few years fighting a devil that came to her in the form of alcohol. At first, it was alluring, tempting, and fun. What started out as a few drinks with friends on the weekend quickly turned into hard-core house parties in the summer, spending just about every week trying to sober up.

Even though alcohol was a monkey on her back she could never completely shake off, she managed just enough to get by. But things quickly took a turn.She lost her job, a close friend died, and her parents completely gave up on her. Everything was fucked.

Until she met Noah.

Noah was... he was her saving grace. He was the lifeline to her sanity, the only thing that made sense when everything else was confusing and spinning out of control, which happened more often than not. But it didn't matter to Noah. He never judged her. He never made her feel less than human for having a weakness that would drag her down so far, she'd end up lying on the cold hard floor of the bathroom in front of the toilet.

No, Noah was her rock, even though he never intended to be.

Over the course of their quick friendship, Noah got to a point that he knew he loved her so much that he feared for her every time he wasn't with her. He'd call her, text her, stop by and check on her on his way home from Matt's house or the studios.

One the days they had off together, he'd bring dinner over to her place and they'd spend the evening eating, talking, and watching Batman (the one with Edward Cullen, Noah would say, because he could never remember the actors name). Noah found himself feeling stronger feelings for her than just friendship, and it scared him. But on a particular night, when he got "the call", everything changed. He decided to say "fuck it", and go all in, even if she didn't feel the same.

"Calm down, y/n, I'm on my way, okay, I'm coming."

Noah tried to stay calm, but his heart was racing

"Please, just take a deep breath and wait for me. I'll be there soon. Have you had anything to drink?"

There was a long pause.

"Y/n! Answer me! Are you drinking?"

Noah started the car, setting his phone down once it turned over to the car Bluetooth.

"Yes. I've had a few."

Noah slammed his fists down on the steering wheel.

"Fuck!"

"Noah, I'm sorry," she cried, her tears quickly turning into wails.

"Hey, it's okay. Shit, I'm sorry, okay. Look, just don't drink anymore, okay? I'm coming. I'll be there. Just hold on for me, please."

There was a long pause again, as Noah threw the car in drive and flew out of the parking lot.

"Hurry."

"Y/N!" Noah called out the moment he walked through the door.

He looked around the quiet apartment, over the couch in the middle of the room where they'd spent so many nights curled up together watching tv. He loved the feeling of her in his arms, craved the way she'd bury herself in his chest and sometimes fall asleep.

"Y/N! Where are you?"

His heart was pounding as that anxious feeling swelled in his chest, begging God that his intuition was wrong. Rushing into her bedroom, he saw through the partially closed bathroom door, the light that reflected off the mirror. She was there; right where he feared she'd be.

"Y/n," Noah called out, pushing the door open slowly. He found her with her head in the toilet puking severely with a bottle of vodka next to her on the floor.

"Fuck," Noah whispered under his breath.

"I'm sorry," she cried, her voice echoing inside the toilet bowl. "Noah, I'm so fucking sorry." She sniffed, sitting back on her feet.

"I know how much you're disappointed in me right now, because of how much you've tried to help me stay sober the last few months."

She threw her head into the toilet bowl again, this time only producing dry heaves. Noah knelt down next to her, pulling back her hair and wiping her mouth as she sat back. Nervously, she peered up at him expecting to find regret or anger in his eyes, but Noah only smiled at her. It was a small smile, one of sympathy rather than joy, but it gave her all the hope she needed.

"I'm not disappointed, y/n , not at all."

"You're not?" She sniffed, trying to clear her nose. Noah got the hint and wiped it for her.

"No, I'm not."

She breathed a huge sigh, running her hands down her face.

"You wanna tell me what happened?"

She shrugged, looking down.

Noah was quiet, not too sure what to say next. But when he looked over at her again, he saw her crying. He had to fix that somehow.

"Nick got his new bass guitar in today. Sounds really good on the new song."

She looked up at him and grinned.

"That's great! I bet it sounds amazing. I can't wait to hear it."

Noah reached over and wiped her cheek, cupping it gently.

"You're way too fucking beautiful to cry, y/n. You're too beautiful to be doing this," he pointed to the bottle and the toilet.

She nodded, slowly hanging her head.

"What happened?"

"He's married."

Noah's eyes widened.

"The guy you've been talking to? He's fucking married?"

She nodded slowly.

"I saw him today after work, and I guess he forgot to take off his wedding band in his hurry to meet me."

Noah hung his head, running a hand through his hair.

"Fuck, y/n, I don't know what to say. That's completely messed up on way too many levels."

Standing to her feet, y/n took the vodka bottle and dumped the remaining liquid in the sink, watching it circle the drain, just like her life, throwing the bottle away once it was empty. She brushed her teeth and threw water in her face, hoping it would do something for her.

"You can tell me I'm a screwed up mess and that I don't ever listen. I don't know, Noah, fucking tell me a lie for all I care!"

She broke down crying again, sobbing into her hands.

"Hey, it's alright, shhhh," Noah soothed her, taking her into his arms, pulling her close. She pressed her face into his chest, breathing him in: his scent, his warmth, his entire being, calming down after a few minutes.

She fit perfectly in Noah's arms, her small frame entirely wrapped up against his body. Here, Noah could protect her, make her feel safe from reckless losers like the one who'd just broken her heart.

"Baby, you're not a screwed up mess. You had a relapse, that's all. It doesn't mean you don't listen or haven't been trying to stay clean. And I will never, ever, in a million years lie to you."

Lifting her head, she looked at Noah as if seeing him in a whole new different light, and his pet name for her stunned her to the point that it left her speechless. Noah looked down at her differently, too. It wasn't the sweet friend that was staring at her. No, this man looking at her now had a longing in his eyes she'd never seen before. And as much as it should've scared her, it really didn't. She liked it; alot.

"I don't know what to think or believe anymore, Noah. I'm not sure about anything."

Her words pierced his heart.

"What can I do to help you? What do you need?"

By now, there was a little heated tension between them, one that had never been there before. It was subtle, but there none the less.

Noah ran his hands up and down her backside, stopping each time, right before her bottom started. Y/N breathing slowed until it felt like she barely was.

"Kiss me," she whispered.

Noah exhaled, grinning slightly before licking his lips. Bending low, he slid his large hands lovingly around her face, cupping it gently and pulling her into him until their lips collided. She closed her eyes tight, afraid to look at Noah even for a second. But with his lips on hers and his hands holding her in place, it was impossible not to feel completely wanted and accepted. For the first time, y/n felt loved.

When they parted, Noah held their foreheads together, afraid she would slip away if he let her go. He had her now. He didn't want to let her go.

"Believe that I love you. You can be sure about that." Noah kissed her forehead and pulled her close again. "Believe that you are worth and loved more than you think you are." She nodded, but Noah wanted words.

"Tell me you believe me?" he said, cupping her face and staring into her tear stained eyes. "I believe you, Noah, I do," she smiled. "You do? You really do?" "Yes, I really do," she assured him, placing her hands on his wrists. He dried her eyes with his thumbs, vowing to himself to be the one to always wipe the tears away and to never be the cause of them.

He loved her, even if she wasn't one hundred percent sure she loved him back. And starting that day Noah would prove to her that she was no longer addicted to anything but him.

#bad omens #bad omens cult #bad omens band #noah sebastian #bad omens fanfiction #noah sebastian fan fiction

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cobaltperun · 9 months ago

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Woe out the Storm (4) - Back in Black

Wednesday Addams x female Reader

Summary: It took some time, but eventually you came to realize only Wednesday Addams could look at the raging storm of chaos and destruction and make a home out of it. Only she could listen to the cacophony of the roaring thunder and hear a melody.

Story warnings: Wednesday Addams, violence, slow burn

Story Masterlist / First part / Previous part / Next part

Word count: 3.6k

-I got nine lives, cat's eyes, abusin' every one of them and running wild-

Thing failed to find out who was the one disguising as Rowan, he did his best, but the imposter slipped into the crowd and Thing lost sight of them. So, you were kind of back to square one since Rowan was officially gone and the shapeshifter didn’t need to pretend they were him anymore. You could argue your situation got even worse, as you didn’t know who you could trust. Well, that hardly bothered Wednesday, because, as she said, she trusted no one anyway.

Well, that one stung.

That night you came back to your room to find Enid kneeling on the floor with her fists balled up and hitting the bed, sobbing hysterically. “Enid?! What happened?!” you ran up to her, You’ve never seen her this upset unless it had something to do with her mother. Even that was back when you met her! After the first Parents weekend she had!

“My life is over, Y/N!” she wailed as she turned and more or less just rammed into you with how hard she threw herself into your arms.

You gasped, the air knocked out of you, but you managed to rub circles into her back, hoping to soothe her at least a bit as her tears stained your shirt. You weren’t entirely comfortable with people crying on you, but you figured it would be fine. “We’ll figure things out, okay?”

It was terrifying how fast she flipped the switch and looked at you, hopeful and happy all of a sudden. Enid flipping between moods like that usually meant trouble for you. It made you dread her next words. “You’ll take Yoko’s place?! Thank you, Y/N!” she threw her arms around your neck and hugged you tightly. “You’re the best!”

You froze completely. Yoko’s place? The Poe Cup? The canoe race? The lake?! “No! Nope! No way! None of that!” you abruptly pushed Enid away and took several steps back. You were met with Enid’s eyes, all big, expressive and filled with tears, complete with a pout on her face. “None of those puppy eyes either! They won’t work on me on this!” you cried out pointed a finger at her, firmly maintain your position on this as your heart hammered against your chest at the mere thought of being close to that much water.

She bowed down her head and clasped her hands together. “Please! Y/N, my whole life depends on this!”

You blinked several times, unable to believe what you were hearing. “And my life depends on not doing it!” you exclaimed incredulously.

“Please?” she tried with extra puppy eyes, batting her eyelashes and damn near making crocodile tears fall from her eyes.

“Enid there’s water involved! Sorry I don’t feel like drowning!” you were not budging on this, no way. Not worth dying for. You were terrified of huge bodies of water, well, any water scared you, but anything even ten times as small as the lake was the stuff of nightmares!

Enid looked up, genuine tears once again filling her eyes. “You won’t drown!” Enid at least had the dignity to pause for a second before saying that. “No one drowned in the Poe Cup!”

“I will! I can’t swim!” you exclaimed just as the window opened and Wednesday came in. How did she even climb up to the window in the first place?

“Wednesday, help me convince her!” Enid searched for back up in the last person you figured she would. “She needs to take Yoko’s place!”

You covered your eyes with your left hand and groaned. Enid should have known better.

“Why?” Wednesday asked. She was actually humoring Enid’s request? Well, that was unexpected.

“Yoko had a garlic bread incident at the dinner, she had a major allergic reaction which means she’s out of the Poe Cup! And I don’t have a co-pilot because Y/N won’t take her place!” Enid declared accusingly pointing a finger at you.

“Of course I won’t! I can’t swim!” you repeated as you threw your hands down in frustration. This was pointless, you were not going to participate, and thus you were already turning around and making your way to your part of the room. You weren’t about to argue about this.

“You can’t swim?” Wednesday asked clearly puzzled by the lack of such a basic skill.

You turned back to look at her and just shrugged. “I feel excruciating pain and light up like a Christmas tree when too much rain falls on me. The hell do you think happens if I fall into a lake?” you nodded, seeing Wednesday piece it together. “Exactly. Look, if the only way I’m getting somewhere is by a boat, I’m not getting there, I don’t care if someone is about to kill everyone I care about, if I have to risk falling into any body of water they are on their own! It’s their fault for getting caught in the first place!” were you being way too dramatic? Absolutely. Were you serious? One hundred percent. Nothing could make you approach any bigger body of water. Especially not a school competition.

“Y/N!” Enid whined, desperately trying to fill up the co-pilot position on her team.

You turned to her and pointed a finger at her. “No, you hear me? It’s a simple two letter word. No!”

“Can’t you just zap to the shore if we start sinking?” was Enid actually trying to tell you a cup was the most important thing at the moment?

You felt your eye twitching you were going to get a headache at this rate, and all because Enid was being unreasonable about this. “I’m not even going to entertain that thought,” even if you weren’t scared of water there would be no containing the burst of lightning that would happen if you fell into the water. How couldn’t Enid see that your canoe sinking meant not only you drowning but likely her and everyone else in the water close to you?

“You and I are going to take her down tomorrow,” Wednesday suddenly said and while you were genuinely surprised you looked at the goth girl like she was your very own savior.

Besides, between you and Wednesday, all of you knew who was a better option for a no rules race against Bianca. Especially since Wednesday had a personal vendetta to settle.

“Wait, you’re joining the Black Cats?” Enid was just as surprised as you were. She got way to close into Wednesday’s personal space, prompting the girl to back away a step. “You’re willing to do that? For me?”

“I want to humiliate Bianca so badly that the bitter taste of defeat burns in her throat,” Wednesday said with a sense of finality you haven’t heard from her before.

“Somehow I’m not surprised,” you commented evenly, even if you were incredibly happy Enid would stop trying to get you to join the team.

“Yeah, but mostly you’re doing it because we’re friends, right?” Enid kind of got the wrong idea.

“Just let her have this,” you said to Wednesday and she glared at you. Well, at least it was just a regular glare and not a death glare.

Wednesday turned around, probably uncomfortable due to Enid’s infamous puppy eyes. “Tell me how she keeps winning,”

“It’s a real brain cramp. The past two years no other boat has made it across and back without sinking,” and Enid still wanted you in the boat. Despite knowing that. And knowing how you were with water.

“Sounds like sabotage,” Wednesday noticed, which granted, wasn’t a difficult conclusion to reach.

That got Enid thinking. “There are no rules in the Poe Cup, and she is a siren, which makes her master of the water.”

“Then we just need to beat her at her own game,” Wednesday decided.

Maybe you’d actually watch this time. In a tree, at least two hundred feet away from the lake. Away from all the water.

~X~

And you did watch, from the exact position you thought you would.

“Y/N! Come on! At least cheer from the stands!” Enid yelled up at you.

“You’re barking up the wrong tree Enid! This is as close as I’ll approach the lake!” you yelled back from your spot up in the tree. You had everything you needed, binoculars to watch the race, and a tiny version of the Black Cats’ flag stuck in the branch you were sitting on. As far as you were concerned this, roughly two hundred feet from the lake, was as close as you’d come.

You couldn’t exactly see it, but you were sure a Enid’s eye twitched at your behavior. “You’re being irrational!”

You were also safe from the water. “Exactly! Now let me be!” oh you understood full well just how irrational you were being. Understanding and acting in a way that would change that were, however, two entirely different things.

Enid groaned, threw her arms up in the air in frustration and stomped back to her team. You watched as the teams got into their boats and you felt nothing but dread at the mere thought of being in one of those. Water beneath you, water all around you and the boat very likely to be sunken the only thing keeping you alive. Well, you were sure Wednesday figured out a way to win, but if it was you you’d be a panicking mess that would barely be able to row.

You watched the race, flinching when an axe swung over Enid and Wednesday’s heads. Yup. Forget drowning, you’d be decapitated from how much you’d be panicking right there. You wouldn’t even have the mental capacity to duck.

That would be an embarrassing way to die.

Every time a boat sunk, regardless of who it belonged to, you looked away. Finally, after what felt like eternity, the only ones left were Enid and Wednesday’s team and Bianca’s team. You bit your lower lip as something seemed to push their boat away from Bianca’s. Enid would never forgive herself if she lost this close to victory and, somehow, you figured Wednesday wouldn’t be much different. Especially after what she said last night and the way Bianca defeated her in fencing in her first week here.

Somehow the pushing stopped, probably something Thing did because no one on the team moved and the Black Cats managed to catch up and make Bianca’s boat sink, thus, with being the only ones left, there was no doubt who won. “Hell yeah!” you cheered, pumping your fists up in the air so hard you nearly fell off the branch.

~X~

Somehow you couldn’t say you were surprised that almost the entire school cheered for Ophelia Hall’s victory. Well, from what you could see it was more for Bianca’s loss, but still, you doubted Enid, who was soaking up all the attention and smiling back at the students, was complaining.

Wednesday didn’t look so pleased. In fact, she looked like she was in an ever worse mood than she usually was. She looked uncomfortable actually, now that you took a closer look. Finally, it looked like she reached the breaking point and left the crowd.

You gave her a minute and then went after her. You could understand on some level that she felt uncomfortable given the situation. You didn’t expect to find her sitting on the ground, leaning back against the Edgar Allan Poe’s statue. She looked a bit distraught, and you realized just how uncomfortable she was with everyone looking and smiling at her. She needed to get away from the crowd and for a moment you considered leaving her alone, but she likely already noticed you, so there was no going back.

“Overwhelmed?” you approached her carefully, ready to leave at the smallest sign she didn’t want you there.

“Unsettled,” she corrected you and opened her eyes to look at you, but otherwise didn’t show any negative reactions to your presence. You still let your eyes turn red to make it clear it really was you.

You nodded at that, smiling just a bit at her and motioning to a spot half a dozen feet away from her. “Do you mind if I sit with you? I’ll leave if you do, you just need to say a word.”

Wednesday watched you for a few moments. “I don’t mind,” she eventually replied, so you sat there, as silent as she was. Maybe it was because she didn’t mind you were a raiju, or maybe there was just something about her, but you felt at peace around Wednesday. There was just something predictable about her. Well, maybe predictable wasn’t the right word, but there were patterns in her behavior, she was cold, but she was honest, when you interacted with Wednesday you knew exactly what not to expect and that was enough. Maybe it was the way everything about her contrasted everything about your powers. Loud to her quiet. Brief bursts of energy to her consistent and constant flow. Bright to her dark. Destruction to her creation.

Wednesday looked up and suddenly seemed to shift all of her attention to the statue. “Y/N,” she spoke your name and you just realized that this was the first time you heard her say your name. You actually liked how she said it.

“Hmm?” you tilted your head to the side, waiting for her to explain what she noticed.

“What are you doing down here?” Enid burst the bubble you two created as well as prevented Wednesday from telling you what she found.

“Hiding. People keep randomly smiling at me. It’s unsettling,” Wednesday explained as she got up and you took that as your cue to get up as well.

“It’s called having your moment! You took down Bianca Barclay, try to enjoy it,” Enid led the two of you back to the pentagon wrongly named Quad. “The girls wanna know if you wanna hang out later. Oh, come on, it won’t kill you.”

“I’ll think about it,” Wednesday replied after a brief thought.

“Great!” Enid went back to other girls from Ophelia Hall.

“So, what did you see?” you finally asked, bringing focus back to the moment before Enid showed up.

“I’ll tell you later,” Wednesday decided when she noticed Weems approaching the two of you.

~X~

That later didn’t quite come, at least not before you fell asleep, completely unaware of Wednesday's plans for that night. You were a light sleeper, you had to be, otherwise you could risk not noticing rain or storm until it was too late. So, when you heard the window opening your eyes snapped open and you carefully took the covers off. A brief look around the part of the room you could see made you notice Wednesday wasn’t in her bed. “Wednesday?” you called out, loud enough for her to hear if she was the one that came in, but not loud enough to wake Enid up.

The silence followed by footsteps heading toward Wednesday’s deck was all the answer you needed. With a sigh you pushed your body off the bed and changed into a red T-shirt and black trousers, there was no way Wednesday would take you seriously in pajamas, even if they weren’t nearly as colorful as Enid’s.

The first thing you noticed when you rounded the corner was the book she opened on her table. “Is that the book you were looking for?” you walked over to the table and, mostly instinctively placed a hand on the back of Wednesday’s chair as you leaned forward to look at it.

“Yes,” Wednesday replied, for now not reacting to your proximity. You weren’t touching her, so maybe this was fine. She flipped the pages until she reached a half ripped picture and set the half she took from Rowan next to it.

“Crackstone?” you couldn’t help but recognize the man on the picture.

“You know who this is?” Wednesday immediately turned to you and you took a step back, realizing now just how close the two of you were.

You went and leaned back against the wall next to her desk. “You don’t live in Jericho for four years and somehow avoid learning about him. Jericho’s founding father, from what I heard he despised outcasts. Nearly wiped them out four centuries ago,” you explained, but it didn’t make sense. How was a man that lived all that time ago related to Wednesday?

“How do I learn more about him?” Wednesday asked, for a moment you felt nervous at having all of her attention on you.

“Uh, The Pilgrim World might be a good start,” you figured. “Just find a way to get volunteer work over there and I guess you’re all set. I’ll trade with you if I get it and you don’t. Though, knowing Weems neither of us are getting it.”

“Why?” there was that small head tilt again.

“She’ll probably want to keep me close, so I don’t get into trouble again this year and I don’t think she’d put you in The Pilgrim World, in case you end up causing trouble,” you grinned a bit, but there was a good chance Enid would get it, so not all hopes were lost. “Now, how about you tell me why you didn’t bring me along?”

Wednesday looked down at the picture. “This doesn’t concern you,” she stated evenly.

You rolled your eyes. “Like hell it doesn’t. Someone killed Rowan, who tried to kill you, and you are my roommate, you might need a lightning beast as back up against oversized Gollum,” you replied, resisting the urge to cross your arms and take a more defensive stance.

“I don’t intend to rely on you,” okay, that stung, why did she have to be this stubbornly independent to the point of wanting to do everything by herself?

“Why not?” you still asked, wondering if you could have a proper conversation with Wednesday about the topic.

“Man can will nothing unless he has first understood that he must count on no one but himself; that he is alone, abandoned on earth in the midst of his infinite responsibilities, without help, with no other aim than the one he sets himself, with no other destiny than the one he forges for himself on this earth,” your eyes widened as she said that, as if reciting her own personal rules in life.

You grinned widely, recognizing the quote. “Yet he sounds almost entirely different when talking about love,” the stoic mask broke for a few moments as Wednesday, surprised at your words, actually blinked a few times, averting her gaze from you. “It's quite an undertaking to start loving somebody. You have to have energy, generosity, blindness. There is even a moment right at the start where you have to jump across an abyss: if you think about it you don't do it,” you fired back with a quote, one that she clearly recognized.

“Such sentiments fit my parents, not me,” Wednesday looked you in the eyes, fierce, a cold flame burning within them.

“No, I guess it doesn’t. Which one does then? Aside from the one you just quoted at me?” you knew you were pushing, but the hint of intrigue and wonder in her eyes made you keep doing it. Made you push until you pushed too far, regardless of where that might lead you.

“Hell is other people,” a simple, short quote, and you had to admit it told you a lot about Wednesday, probably more than she dared to realize.

“Ah, I see,” you nodded, smiling right at her. “I'm going to smile, and my smile will sink down into your pupils, and heaven knows what it will become,” once again she avoided your gaze. “We’re saying the same thing, just with different words. I think there’s a lot of beauty in that,” you didn’t dare phrase it as a question, you just glanced outside the window before looking at Thing. He seemed uncertain of what he was witnessing at the moment. Was it a side of Wednesday he didn’t get to see often? If so, you felt a sense of pride at that.

“Perhaps,” Wednesday agreed after some silence. “I prefer to stay away from that phrasing,” there was something different in her eyes at the moment. Was the fact you went and repeatedly quoted Sartre back at her that impactful?

“Of course. You are you, nothing else would fit,” you dared to take a step closer to her, leaning against the side of her table. “Say, Wednesday,” you motioned toward the picture with your head. “What kind of life will begin on the other side of this?” you asked her.

“Bold of you to assume this will qualify as despair,” she retorted, showing once again just how well she knew Sartre. ‘Life begins on the other side of despair,’ Sartre once said and that picture looked like despair to you. A desperate situation where the fate of the entire school, filled with werewolves, sirens, gorgons, vampires, a school that had you, a raiju, still rested on the back of one girl that wasn’t a part of any of those groups.

You looked her in the eyes, losing every sense of time, it could have been a minute, or an hour. You didn’t know how drowning felt, but somehow you decided you were drowning in her eyes. In those black, emotionless eyes… Somehow, during that night, you felt as if something shifted just slightly between the two of you.

And you weren’t sure either of you realized it.

A/N: So, between being sick at the moment and my free time significantly dropping soon enough I'll try to get chapter 5 in a few days and after that, the story will have to slow down a bit. I'll try to get a chapter out once a week, but there's no way I'll be able to repeat the Lost update pace. Thanks for reading, see you next time!

Story Masterlist / First part / Previous part / Next part

#wednesday addams x female reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday netflix #wednesday addams #enid sinclair #jenna ortega x reader #x reader #x female reader

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thebest-medicine · 4 months ago

Note

lee crybaby deku and ler kacchan “No way, are you crying?” (42)

Prompt 42 - “No way, are you crying?”

A/N: i love my sweet sensitive boy (and so does katsuki)

…

“Come on! Fight back or something, nerd! What, is it that bad?” Bakugo teased as he tormented the pinned hips of Midoriya, who lay face down on the ground under him, shrieking with laughter.

“GAHAHAHAHA- KACCHAHAHAHAN! STAHAHA- I CAHAHAN’T! WAHAHAHAHAA!” Izuku pounded his fists into the ground, his feet doing the same behind them both. The vibrating shocks of ticklish sensation never let up, never slowed down, and constantly swirled and changed enough to keep him completely on edge as to what would come next. All he knew is that it would tickle. Having grown up together, Katsuki had grown up knowing many of Izuku’s weaknesses, including all the spots he was the most ticklish. His hips were always a weak point — and Katsuki was a winner.

“Whatsa matter? Can’t take it?” Bakugo sneered victoriously. “This was too easy!”

Midoriya continued to wail with laughter beneath him, waves of tears starting to seep from his eyes. “KACCAHAHAHAHAAHA NOHOHOHOOHOOOO!”

“You give up, stupid nerd? You’re gonna let me win that easy?”

“WAAHAHAHAHY ALWAHAHAHAYS SO MEHEHEEAN KACCHAHAAHAN?!” Izuku cackled.

“Shut up!” Bakugo huffed. He leaned in to get a look at the nerd’s red face.

Deku was laughing unabashedly, smile wide and eyes squeezed shut. Tears leaked out of them like small rivers. “Oh man, no way, are you crying?” Something a little sadistic in him coiled and twitched. He felt warm. After drawing out a few more screams of laughter, Katsuki added. “Seriously? Is it that bad?”

“YEHEHEHEHEHES- HAHAHA HA NOHOHOHO PLEHEHEEHHEEASE! I GIHIHIHIVE UP! AHAHA STAHAHA- MERCYHEHEHEEE!” Izuku pleaded.

Part of him didn’t want to, wanted to push a little more, but he did stop then, upon hearing Izuku concede.

Midoriya nearly melted into the floor below him, barely able to move after the prolonged tickle attack on his worst spot.

“You’ve gotta get less ticklish there or something, nerd. You practically fall apart. It’s not even a challenge anymore!” Bakugo argued teasingly.

“Hm.” Izuku hit his fist against his palm with a smile. “Well, next time I’ll just have to go after your worst spot first thing!”

Bakugo sputtered, “hah-?” Then he scowled at him. “No way, you dork! I’ll kick your ass again in a second!”

“No way, I’m gonna beat you!”

“You don’t stand a chance!”

“You’re going down next time, Kacchan.”

“Do you wanna die?!” Bakugo shouted, lunging at Deku again and beginning to tickle.

“NOHOHOhohohoho not again! Kacchaahahahan! Not yehehehehet!”

…

[more sentence starter fic prompts]

[other sentence starter fics]

[read this & further MHA drabbles on ao3]

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sugoi-writes · 7 months ago

Text

I thought I would take a crack at some Rosie drabble/smut, because @bat-boness and this amazing piece of ass I mean art

Oral, female receiving. Lots of build up, tension, and Rosie being Rosie. TEEHEE

You were nervous, eyes wide with lust, but also full of... anxiety. Rosie had been around for a very long time. She was a mature woman, a tall glass of water, and most troubling:

She knew exactly what she wanted, and when she wanted it. And if she didn't like it, she'd be the first to let you know. Or worse...

Pleasing any overlord would be a daunting task. But seeing a disheveled yet level-headed femme fatale settling on the edge of your bed made your breath hitch.

You were lightly pushed onto your back, sputtering as her silken, black slip gown was thrown to your face. You resisted the urge to inhale the scent. The offer of her perfume and natural smell mingling in your nose was a very tempting notion...

You cast the garment aside, eyes still wide, before your jaw practically hits the floor. There before you, the demoness was clad in nothing but modern undergarments, adorned in adorable cannibal skulls and iconography. You swallowed the lump forming in your throat, your core seizing at the sight.

Rosie could see you worry, and immediately her expression turned mischievous. Her shoulders shimmy back and forth slowly as her fingers hook into the hem of her panties, teasingly shifting the hem lower and lower. Your mouth ran dry as the bones of her pelvis shifted, her cunt nearly bare before you.

"Don't be scared, Doll... Let Ms. Rosie take care of you~"

You were rendered speechless as the panties were pulled down to her knees, her velvet, porcelain cunt on full display. You may not have been a cannibal, but you wanted to feast on the sight before you like a crooked vulture. You subconsciously lick your lips, sitting up on your elbows as she rids herself of the panties entirely. She makes a big show of reaching behind her back, brows raised as she bites her dark lip. The both of you sigh in unison when her bra comes unclasped, mounds bouncing resolutely. The pale overlord practically giggles, playfully rocking her tits back and forth with another sensual shimmy. You were unabashed, eyes following her movements with an intense desire. You wanted to pop her hardened nipples directly in your mouth, suckling and biting them until she saw white...

"Doll~ It's rude to stare, you know~"

You snap back to your senses, a heavy sigh leaving you," Rosie... I don't ask for much..." Rosie tilts her head at you as your eyes dart downward, focusing on her wet, glistening heat. Your fists ball up as your sides, knuckles turning white as you dare to not look away.

"Please, for the love of Satan, sit on my face."

A surprised snort, a laugh, and then... a scarlet blush adorns her delicate face. Oh, you were serious.

Rosie practically purrs as she watches your eyes dilate, unable to look away from the junction between her thighs. A dark, mischievous chuckle brings your eyes to her face. She crawls over to you, trailing wet, open mouthed kissing up your body, starting at your knees. You sigh at every point, hands coming up to cover your face in embarrassment. When she makes her way to your jaw, she smiles down at you, eyes full of a sensual gleam. Your hands are removed from your face, giving you the chance to look into her eyes. You see your disheveled reflection in them, practically moaning at the sight.

"Careful, Dollface..."

She pushes you hard onto your back, scooting upward until she straddles your head. Her aching core was dangling just above your welcoming face, puffy and ready for the taking.

"You won't be able to stop once you get a taste~"

She wails with surprise as her cunt is slammed onto you mouth, her head thrown back in rapture. You dig your nails into her hips, locking her in place. She grabs fist fulls of your hair, hissing as your tongue lapped at her clit desperately.

You didn't mind the growling and the tugging at your scalp. There was a deep, animalistic part of you that hoped this would never stop. And you wouldn't, until the overlord bowed to your whim, unable to do anything but scream and whine your name.

#rosie x reader #rosie x you #rosie x y/n #rosie hazbin hotel #rosie hazbin hotel fanfic #ahahahaha im really fucking GAY #which may surprise a lot of you since i most write about fiction men #lmao #anyways i really hope yall enjoy this #teeheehee~

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glassrowboat · 10 months ago

Text

From the Past. Dottore.

Summary: What is the most wretched thing, the one we read about in books as they spell out horror after horror? Well, to Dottore, it's losing you. So even as he curses himself for being selfish, he takes a clawed hand in his own and grips it so tightly it can't even threaten him with the idea of being pulled away.

Word count: 2000+

Warnings: Gore, psychological torture implied, toxic dynamic, and Dottore. Yes, he is a warning.

Authors note: The doctor and reader were not in a romantic relationship previous to the contents of this fic.

The sounds of wailing screams must have stopped hours ago now as Dottore walked back into the lab, the silence he was met with almost startling compared to the banging fists and pleas for help that filled the air as he left. That is if he didn't already expect this outcome. To the doctor this is just another day like any other, even as the screech of metal dragging against the floor hit his ears, a black line worn into the ground from the amount of times he's opened and closed this particular cell.

Just another thing to fix later.

Dottore didn't even flinch as the smell of blood hits his nose in waves. Far too used to it to be nauseated now he walks through the door, bits and pieces of flesh coating the walls as blood reached high enough to cake the ceiling. The sound of a drip, drip, drip melodic. Though none of that mattered compared to the sight of a messy head of hair, the light slipping through the door way just enough to illuminate the figure that sat there as she turned to look at him.

“It appears you have outdone yourself again, my favorite test experiment. Did you have fun while I was gone?” Judging by the fact there's barely any remains to be had of the live test subject he threw in there with her, the answer had to be yes.

“I did.” Ahh, simple and to the point as always. Or at least as it always is now. “Welcome back Dottore.”

“Glad to be back.” Smiling down at her he offered what could barely be called a woman anymore a hand. She may have appeared just as she did once upon a time but the blood covering her mouth was a clear indication as to otherwise. Such a sweet little face so clearly hiding a brutal and ravenous creature only he truly knew the extent of. “Now that you are fed-”

Without even bothering to accept his hand she was right in front of him in an instant. Matted hair tickling Dottore's neck as she leaned in. There was no point to be startled, or to even act afraid, not when he knew this one would never hurt him. He was confident in that.

The quick sound of a sniff however still had him looking down at her with a raised eyebrow though. “You smell like the other harbingers. Were you in a meeting again?”

Dottore chuckled softly at her question. After all, a day (y/n) actually chose to converse was a good day in his books. “Yes, I did just attend meeting with the other harbingers,” he replied, his breath brushing over her cheek. “And what is to you if I did?”

“Well,” her eyes fell down to the floor, a sight one could almost miss in the dark room. “You used to tell me when you were busy. Now you just leave without a word.”

We used to be so much closer.

“Right.” Dottore grumbled. “Things have changed. My priorities have changed; I'm sure you understand. I can't be with you all the time anymore.” He has work to do, tests to run, papers to write, just…things that keep him busy over all.

Waiting for a moment Dottore looked down at her, waiting for that sharp tongue he had grown so used to. A comment along the lines of: ‘well maybe if you had told me of this before you wouldn't come across as such a prick.’ Yet the woman leaning into him said nothing of the sort, no sharp bite to share. Not this time.

Of course she wouldn't.

“Let's get you cleaned up, dear.” Placing his hand on the small of her back Dottore led her out the cell. It wasn't meant to keep her captive anyway. She wouldn't go anywhere even without a door that screeched in sheer agony everytime I was forced open locking her in.

The remains of what was once her meal left behind as he pushed her towards the small wash station right up until she was standing under the shower head. He didn't even bother to warn her as he turned the water on, already knowing she wouldn't mind. The freezing water beat down on her in a way that would have Dottore shivering in her place if their positions were swapped, but she barely showed a sign of recognizing what just happened.

There were no complaints of the cold to be had as she hissed at him about being a bitch. Simply standing there. Watching.

“Are you really so unbothered by this?” Why did he even ask that, he already knew the answer. Maybe, just maybe the sound of the water would drown out the pointless question, but he knew it wouldn't.

Dottore already made sure of that long ago. (Y/n), something that was somehow more than and less than human all at once. Needles that once filled her skin now having marked her skin with scars that were slowly being revealed as the blood washed off of her, swirling and pooling on the floor. Seconds passing by as the stark red faded to pink. It'll be clear soon enough.

“I'm fine. Just need a change of clothes.”

“Of course,” he sighed, watching as bits of flesh fell from the folds of her shirt that would have to be fished out of the drain later. “I'll have that settled soon. Just wash off, I don't need you dirtying the lab again.”

A small mutter of a “thank you” could be heard as he turned on his heel, already knowing not to bother to search for any trace of light in her like had used to so many times before. Humanity long since forgotten even before the first time she tore her teeth into a test subjects flesh. At least this time she didn't ask to be allowed to hunt her prey down.

It was so easy to forget the woman she once was when you look at her now, the name Siearra seemingly almost belonging to an entirely new person. If that is something she call still be called to this day. He certainly wouldn't say it was the best description for her.

These old tile floors his shoes clicked on as he walked to fetch her something to change into had once reflected a woman who would easily poke and prod at him with words alone. How something he once considered so annoying could be endearing now is beyond him.

Nostalgia, such an easily blinding tool.

If she said something like that today…well, she wouldn't even dare. No calling him out for being a jerk, the guts to snap back at him the instant something proved to be displeasing almost vanished into thin air. She truly had changed, just as was intended. These days she is monstrous, can tear through a carcass with ease. She is a pride of his, a true show of just how much his work has come to grow, so there's no point missing her old self. This is simply a change of behavior as any human being would exhibit after being put through-

Dottore stopped for a moment, tongue clicking as he realized just what was going on through his head. Self rationalization? Now? Pointless. There may be memories of (y/n) curled up in a corner of his lab before one of the few heaters, but that is simply the past. It doesn't matter if he and gotten used to her presence there, had begun to expect it. It doesn't matter that if he would comment on her habit of trying to steal the warmth all for himself she would tell him “be a good little scientist and discover this thing called a coat then.”

How he had to bite back a smile, had to bite back from saying “you could have just asked for a blanket you know.”

Enough of this.

Quickly grabbing a change of clothes for her Dottore turned back to the monster that was now before him. This was (y/n) now, no matter how alike they may look. The figure sitting down on the floor with a fluffy towel draped over her shoulders and still wet hair dripping droplets onto her skin was the present.

How she looked so much like a cowering animal as she sat there simply waiting for him to return. Before Dottore could even stop himself playful words tumbled out of his mouth. “You really need to learn how to dry your hair properly, dear. You look like a rat.”

And just how she'd always respond to his snark these days followed suit, a simple “okay.” He shouldn't have expected anything else.

Things truly have changed.

“Put on your clothes already. I don't need you catching a cold,” he snapped.

“Right. Sorry.” Getting up off the floor she slipped the clothes on, so numb seemingly to every little thing. There was no strong sense of dignity from her. (Perhaps stripped the moment he first heard her begging for the pain to stop and Dottore simply told (y/n) to shut up and push through like a good experiment).

“Don't apologize to me, just do things right the first time.” He could see her slowly mouth opening, most likely to apologize again. “I just ask of you to follow orders.” There wasn't a point to look at her to know she was nodding so instead he sat down, the old chair slotted behind the old workbench working well enough for now as he sighed. No matter how much he tried to calm down she had such an ability to rile him up. Silence or her old snark, it was all the same.

She once looked upon him so sweetly as another one of those novels were in those hands, some flowery title he didn't bother to remember printed over the cover. The anemones that were so intricately drawn however were a different story. How she cooed over the main love interest even as Dottore told her multiple times he wasn't interested in hearing about her love for romance.

(Y/n) ignored him easily, still chatting away to the point he had almost managed to tune her out between the catching of a quil on paper. That is until she playfully remarked “one day I'll find my perfect match just like in this story and then I'll run off and get married.” The rest of what she said didn't matter, not at that moment. To run off with someone and just leave him. That's what she had implied.

“Come here.” He ordered, now addressing the monster that sat a few feet away from him.

And just like he had forced her to, how he might as well have programmed into (y/n)’s once human brain, she obeyed. The skirt of the dress she had only just thrown on a moment prior dragging under her, halting and stalling the woman's movements as she crawled over to him. There was no dignity to be had, no pride, no hint of who she once was. Not even as she hung her head in front of him.

What a good girl.

“Look at me.”

His little monster, his prized experiment, his masterpiece, his dead look in her eyes that slowly settliled on him. Hesitantly so. This was how it was meant to be. It didn't matter of thoughts of doubt were running through her mind, if she was waiting to be thrown either a bone or her death penalty, all because now she can't leave. There's not a choice in the matter.

Perhaps he'd mourn the woman she once was, wish for her attitude to come back and hope to hear a comment or two that would remind him of her. But what would the lack of what once was do besides fill him full of unwelcome memories he doesn't want to recall no matter how much both of them still clung to their past?

“Have you realized your place in life yet? It's quite obvious but I want to hear you say it.”

Without missing a beat the little creature he made her be whisper out, “by your side.”

Yes, exactly. She's finally learned. And if she dared say anything else? Well, that's just another thing to fix now.

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