#(ooc: i had a nightmare with dark in it too!)

[fromthedeskof-darkiplier]

I had a nightmare with you in it, you're very scary

Did you, now? Would you care to relay it to me?

-D

[literaila]

one in the morning

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary:

"satoru. where did you get these kids?"

warnings: slight angst, awkward child rearing, a bit of arguing, and pining (of course), slightly ooc gojo

a/n: because i am a sucker for little megumi

*

year zero. year one.

it's not that you're not expecting the call. except that you're not. 

like not even a little bit. an asteroid coming down and destroying only you and your apartment building is slightly more likely than satoru gojo calling you in the middle of the night, like he hasn't done in the last six months. 

the last year, really.

a year ago you would've known who it was immediately and probably would've cursed satoru out for calling you at three in the morning to see if you wanted to go get ice cream with him (and then you would've gotten up and put on your shoes to find him outside of your room, already grinning). 

but now you have to check the caller id. 

you blink around in the dark--struggling through the dregs of dream you're still waking through--and sigh. 

unfortunately, you've never had quite enough willpower to ignore this phone call. shoko has called you an idiot many times--too many times, actually--telling you that satoru's attention-seeking habits are not your responsibility. not that she's had to say that in a while, though... and it's not like you're going to sneak out in the middle of the night with him anymore--you can't sneak out. you have your own house. there’s no yaga to look down on you disapprovingly here. 

and he hasn't called you in six months. you haven't even heard about him beyond some irritated remarks from yaga, and shoko's knowing glances when you try to nonchalantly bring him up.

and still. 

it takes you a moment to pick up the phone, your thumb hitting the answer button before your mind can stop you. 

"satoru?" you whisper, listening to the breathing on the other end. 

there's some muffled moving around, and then a breath, and then someone in the background speaking, and then-- 

"i need your help." his voice is quiet like he doesn't want anyone to hear what he's saying. 

what time is it? have you ever heard satoru say those words before? 

your first thought is that he's on another mission. that there's a cursed spirit and he needs some assistance. but when has satoru gojo asked anyone for help with a cursed spirit? when has he ever needed it? suguru was typically there to keep him from-- 

you pause, sitting up in bed. this might be a nightmare, but usually, you're more accustomed to them. "where are you?" you ask him, speaking in the same soft voice. 

you expect him to name off some city, some house, some country that you couldn't possibly get to. you expect him to crack a joke, say something to you about being lost without him, or laugh at how serious your voice sounds. but he only murmurs, "at your door." 

like it isn't a completely crazy thing to say. how does he even know where you live? 

"it's one in the morning," you say, frowning. some small part of you wants him to actually be there, expecting a knock to come from the void of your hallway. and the other, much bigger part, thank you, wants him to be joking. 

"i know," he sighs, and the receiver is muffled again, and then, "can you open it?" 

"what's going on?" 

"please," he repeats. there's no joke to this. this is not satoru asking you if you want to go get donuts at six in the morning, or milkshakes at midnight. "i'll explain. i just need your help." 

you bite back some remark about how he hasn't needed your help for the past year. about how he hasn't called, hasn't texted, and hasn't even asked about you since-- 

but you stand up, trying to untangle a knot in your hair. you hang up on him without answering. your heart gets a bit of satisfaction from that. 

and go to your door, giving yourself two seconds to prepare for the real-life satoru in front of your face. blue-everything eyes, you think, wall white hair, and a stupid smile. 

but when you open it, your eyes drift to his (sort of) like they're already sure of where exactly he might be, it isn't just him. 

there's a little boy--as tall as satoru's waist, with dark hair and furrowed brows to match--standing in front of another little girl--the same dark hair, but blank face--glaring up at satoru like he's kidnapped both of them. 

your eyes widen as you realize that he probably has. 

"this is basically every kid's dream," he's telling this boy, his playful voice like they’ve known each other for years. "i got you candy and i'm letting you stay up late. why aren't you normal?" 

"why aren't you?" this boy retorts, and his voice is hard. unreasonably sarcastic for such a small person. it might make you giggle, the obvious tension between the two of them, if you weren't so worried about these kids' poor parents, freaking out at their disappearance. 

the little girl is the first to notice you there, and she waves, her face much softer, much more exhausted than the boys in front of her. but she doesn't look frightened; not concerned with wherever this strange man has taken the two of them. 

and satoru looks up at the motion, his mouth turning as he looks at you. 

the little boy frowns, but his eyes settle. there's a brief moment where he watches you and you think that he's about to start begging for your help, but then it's gone. and his eyes trail back to satoru, still angry. 

you blink, swallowing at the three of them. this is not ice cream.

"satoru," you get out, eventually. "where did you get these kids?" 

*

"okay," you set a glass of water on the coffee table, trying to put on a normal smile. your hands are shaking, so you tuck them under your sleeves. "i'm sorry i don't have a lot of extra blankets, but if you get cold i'll go look through some boxes and see what i can find." 

it's been ten minutes with them inside your apartment, and you already feel like you're doing something wrong. satoru, obviously, just briefly introduced the two of them to you, before you grabbed his arm and dragged him--along with the kids that trailed behind--into your apartment. 

you'd hissed at him about how it was cold, and one in the morning, and they needed to be asleep. he only smiled and asked how you were. 

so now they're cuddled up on your couch, with your only spare blanket, both of them with dreary eyes. you're trying not to look too closely--to check if they've been crying, or if they're harmed in any sort of way.

the little boy--megumi--nods and tsumiki smiles at you. 

how four little eyes can look so appreciative, you're not sure.

satoru is leaning against the wall behind you, watching you move around these children like it's normal, and you have to bite your tongue to keep from screaming at him.

"is there anything else you need?" you ask them, trying to be softer than you are. you should’ve taken that babysitting job when you were twelve; you’re completely out of your depth here.

megumi shakes his head. 

"no, we're good," tsumiki says. 

and you seriously want to get them to a hospital. where did they come from? why does satoru have them? is he insane? are they insane? have you just dreamt this all up?

"okay, satoru and i are just going to go talk in the kitchen for a bit. come get me if you need anything." and you smile again, taking a couple of hesitant steps as they both look away from you to the show that tsumiki put on when you handed her the remote. 

at least they're not outside anymore.

you drag satoru into the kitchen, thinking about knocking the wind right out of him. he's always been particularly punchable, but right now he's even more so. 

and he's smiling adoringly at you. 

“satoru," you grind out, trying to keep your voice down. he leans against your countertop, crossing his legs. 

and he hums inquisitively. “you know, i don’t think megumi likes me very much.” 

“satoru.” 

“not sure…" he scratches his head, white hair falling over his sunglasses. "i mean he’s kind of a weird kid but still. i took them to the store to pick out anything they wanted and neither of them got anything. even when i showed them the different cakes they had in the bakery. there were matcha rolls today, too. do you think they’re robots or something?” 

“satoru. where did you get those children?” your voice is a step away from furious. 

why is he here right now? why does he just barge into your life at unprecedented moments, acting like nothing has changed between the two of you? 

acting like you haven't missed the sound of his voice or the way he speaks with his hands, or how he's standing right next to you, warmth radiating off of him like a toxin. 

“is that important right now?” he asks. “we’re talking about their spending habits.” 

“i’m talking about you. tell me that you didn’t steal them from the park and that i’m not obligated to report you.” 

“are you serious?" he shakes his head at you, his voice still teasing, calm as ever. "you think i’d just take some random kids home with me?” 

“i don’t know!" you tell him, finally breaking--your voice is raised, and you almost don't notice. "i don’t even know how you got here, or where you’ve been in the past six months, or whose children those are because they are certainly not yours.” 

he pouts. “you don’t think they look like me?” 

“you’re too pale.” 

“that’s rude, you—“ 

“whose kids are they? now, satoru.” 

you hope your face looks intimidating, but honestly, your demand is more like a suggestion when it comes to satoru. he can listen or he can leave. 

you don't know which one you want more. 

there’s a beat of silence where he rubs his foot on the ground, messing up your tiled floors probably. and then he sighs, relenting. “…toji zenin’s.”

he could’ve said anything else and you wouldn’t even care. oh, he found those kids abandoned in a warehouse on a mission? cool. oh, he found some long-lost cousins? great. if it were anything else, you would've waved him off and told him that he needed to get them new clothes, or something. 

but this? 

“what?!” 

“shh. you’re the one who said they need to sleep," he tries to look around the corner of your hallway, even though you both know he doesn't need to.

you’re gawking at him, but, really, can it be helped?

“toji zenin?!”

“well technically fushiguro according to the records i dug up. but zenin nonetheless...” 

“you stole his kids?!” 

“i didn’t steal—“ 

“he tries to kill you so you kill him instead and take his children hostage?!” 

this would be a wonderful moment to wake up.

satoru waves this statement off, frowning. “you’re really brushing over the ‘tried to kill me’ part. what? you don’t care about me?” 

“why do you have them, satoru? what are you planning to do? torture them for information?" your eyes are wide and your heart is panicked. "they’re kids—“ 

he scowls. “of course not.” 

“then what? tell me everything, starting from when toji tried to kill you.” 

“why do you automatically think i did something?" he complains. "it’s not like i asked zenin to kill me first. i didn’t bait him into slicing my throat open.”

“because you always start the problems.” 

“not true. sometimes i solve them, and sometimes i—“ 

“how did you find out about them?” 

he sighs. “he told me about megumi, before he, ya know,” and then he makes a motion across his neck. and a terrible noise that supposedly indicates death. 

you don't even mock him for it “why?” you ask. 

“megumi might inherit the zenin technique. he’s worth a lot to the zenin clan, and i guess that toji made a deal with them.” 

“you guess?” 

“well, it’s not like i had a whole lot of time between the resurrection and murdering thing to ask him. i didn’t invite the guy out for tea so he could tell me about his pride and joy," his voice is riddled with sarcasm, so you can't decide if he's joking or not. 

he is the most infuriating person you've ever met. 

“so what? he asked you to keep megumi away from them?”

“no, he didn’t seem the sentimental type. maybe he told me cause he didn’t want megumi to grow up there, or maybe he told me so i could claim the prize money for myself.” he shrugs. “it doesn’t matter.” 

you glare at him. “oh, it doesn’t?”

“no. i asked megumi what he wanted and this was it. he doesn’t want to live there and leave tsumiki behind, or have her live in that misogynistic shithole.” 

“how old is he?” 

satoru almost winces. "uh, six?”

“you don’t even know how old he is?” you close your eyes, shaking your head. 

“he’s in first grade! we haven’t gone through all of the basics yet.” 

“and tsumiki?” 

“…nine.” 

“satoru.” 

“i’ll figure it out. megumi acts like he’s fifty years old anyway, so what do i care?” 

you can practically see him rolling his eyes. 

“what do you care?" you repeat, mocking. "you just told me that megumi made this decision for himself. he's a kid. he probably doesn’t understand—“ 

“he understands that if he goes to the zenin clan his sister will suffer in whatever way they deem fit. i mean, you know what it’s like for girls there—especially without any cursed energy.” 

“you cant just make this decision for them on a whim, satoru. have you thought any of it through? where are they going to stay? who’s going to watch them when you’re sent away? where are they going to go to school? what if megumi does inherit his cursed technique?” 

“all of that doesn’t matter. i'll figure it out," he waves off the topic of their lives like it's a mere suggestion, "what matters is that i keep those kids from being subjected to a life of servitude and competition. that they get to be kids while they can.” 

you swallow. is there a way not to be frightened by this? “i know—i know where you’re coming from," you give him a weak smile, trying not to yell, or fight, or question this so much that satoru shuts down. "it’s nice of you to be… worried about them. but this isn’t like taking in a lost kitten, satoru. these are children.” 

“do you really feel the need to point that out?” 

“yes. what do you know about kids?” 

he smiles, wide. “nothing!” he exclaims. “that’s why i came here. and you’re already doing a great job.” 

you frown. “what do i know about kids?” 

“well, you like them, don’t you?” 

“what?” 

“when we went to that daycare center during second year you played with all of the kids. you like them," he nods as if affirming it himself. 

you went to a daycare with satoru once to take care of a grade three curse and apparently, it's led him to insanity. 

“you’re comparing my hide-and-seek skills to taking care of those two kids on my own?"

“i mean, i’ll be here too...” 

“taking care of three children on my own?” you correct. 

satoru pouts. 

you think about what suguru told you after riko amanai died; about satoru and the shift within him. some sort of manic strength he hasn't uttered a word about since. 

but you continue, swallowing. "what's this really about?" you ask, softly, trying not to be mad, or worried, or concerned about why he came here to you. "it's not like you to... take responsibility for something you're not responsible for." 

his pout turns into a frown. you can see his brows furrow. "you don't think i'm capable of helping people?" 

"i know you're capable. but why? why now? i mean, it's been a year since toji died, and you're just getting them now? you suddenly remembered what he said to you?" 

"i had to figure out the logistics of toji's deal." 

"okay," you shake your head, "but still. why not have a family take them in? find someone who can give them a relatively normal life before they're pushed into all of this?" 

satoru's face is blank. "no. what happens when megumi is eight and his new 'parents' put him in a hospital because he's seeing things that they can't?" 

for the first time since he's walked through your front door, he sounds almost serious.

"i--" 

"what happens when they're afraid of him because he draws in cursed energy? when his 'family' rejects him like yours did? like suguru's did?" 

"satoru." 

"honestly, do you think that's any better?" he gestures to your living room, to the kids he's proclaimed responsibility for. "if he does inherit his technique then the zenin clan will go looking for him anyway, and he won't be able to protect himself because there was no one to teach him how. no matter where he goes he's going to be ripped away from tsumiki, who seems to be the only thing he actually cares about. he didn't even want to know--" 

"is this about suguru?" you ask him, the words falling before you can catch them. 

satoru stills. you can see every one of his muscles tense. preparing for a fight. "what?" 

"are you trying to... make up for his decisions? do you feel guilty? is megumi supposed to replace him?" 

"replace him?" 

"i know you think that you can take care of everything on your own, satoru, but you can't. it's not your fault that toji died. and it's not your fault that suguru left--" 

"it is my fault." he says, so softly the words are almost caught before they can reach you. "it is." 

you shake your head. you should've had this conversation months ago. a year ago, before any of this could happen. 

"c'mon, y/n," he continues, no laughter, no smile, no swagger. "i saw what was happening. everyone did. but i was his best friend. i was supposed to be there for him." 

"suguru didn't want you there. he didn't want you to be a part of it." 

"well i could've stopped him. even if i couldn't save suguru--" his voice cracks on his name. "i could've saved everyone else. but i didn't." 

"that's... that's a ridiculous suggestion. how are you supposed to kill your best friend? why should you have to save everyone? why would you even--" 

"megumi isn't some replacement. he's a little boy, and if i'm not there for him then he's going to be stuck with his family. just like i was. he's going to be used for his cursed energy and who knows how he'll turn out? if he'll kill people recklessly like toji, or die trying to do the right thing?" 

you're silent. 

"i'm the only one who can protect him from this," satoru says, and you realize that he's been thinking about this for the past year. that every second since he almost died, this has been on his mind. "they're not going to touch him if i make it clear that i won't let them. i won't--i'm not going to let him become someone he doesn't want to be." 

you sigh. "satoru..." 

his body moves at your voice and he smiles again, shaking off whatever anger you drew out. it's almost a complete shift in who you're talking to. like the stakes no longer matter to him; these kids are just another obstacle to face, a power to control. 

like he's remembered the role he's supposed to play. 

"besides, someone's going to need to take over for me eventually. i might as well train him myself." 

you cant see his eyes, and that’s probably good. you wish someone else were here to take your side, explain to satoru that he’s just a kid himself. that he shouldn't have to take care of everything on his own. 

because when it’s just you, he always has the upper hand. he always gets his way. 

"okay," you say, eventually, after you realize that you'll never win this fight. that you don’t want to fight with him at all.

"okay?" he repeats. "so you'll help me?" 

"help you?" 

"yeah. why do you think i brought them over here?" 

you pause. "you want me... to what? raise them?" 

"with me, yes." 

"are you kidding?" 

"no. you're probably the only person i trust to help." 

the words do something almost indescribable to your body. the person you were a year ago would've cried out in relief, would've clung to him like glue to paper. 

but you frown instead. "seriously?" 

"you've already taken care of them better than i could. look." he drags you around the corner to where tsumiki has her head on megumi's, both of them snoring softly, folded into the blanket you gave them. 

the tv flickers in the background, bothering neither of them. how they've managed to fall asleep with all of the yelling that's been going on, you don't know. 

"see? they already feel safe around you." 

"they're exhausted," you correct, but feel yourself soften at the sight of them. they are kinda cute without the scowl or concern plaguing their faces.

"we're going to be great parents," satoru coos, slinging an arm around your shoulder. 

you push him away. "we are not their parents. we are... permanent babysitters. nannies." 

satoru fixes you with an amused look. "okay." 

"and you still owe me an explanation. i want a complete narrative about what you've been doing for the past six months. and how you found the two of them." 

"okay," he steps closer to you again like you won't notice. 

"and--" you don't have anything else. it's one in the morning. how clear is your mind supposed to be? "and you're paying for anything they need." 

"uh huh." 

eventually, you sigh. it's a surprise that you've lasted this long. "fine. i'll help you. but only because they'd probably die if they spent more than twenty-four consecutive hours with you." 

satoru doesn't say anything--not to whine or roll his eyes--and it's a small acknowledgment, a thank you he doesn't have to say out loud. he'll take this win, at least. 

the two of you watch them, relaxing into the wall. 

after a minute satoru whispers. "by the way..." 

"what?" 

"i didn't tell megumi that i killed toji." 

you turn to him. your eye might as well start twitching. 

"what? he said he didn't want to know--" 

*

you're sneaking into the kitchen when you notice him sitting at the table. his hands are crossed in front of him, his eyes focused on a stain you haven't been able to get off of the wood. 

he's very small, you realize, watching him. his hair is messier than it was the night before, sticking to his head like he slept slumped against it. 

he's not doing anything, really. just sitting there. you can see his legs swinging in the air. 

and before you can prepare for what to say to this little boy who you're probably going to be spending a lot of time with, your mouth is open. "hey," you say to him, just whispering. 

tsumiki must be sleeping. 

megumi looks up, quickly, like he wasn't expecting you to be there. his eyes are wide like he's been caught doing something he wasn't supposed to. but then he slumps down again and gives you a brief nod in acknowledgment. then looks back down, because the table is very interesting.

you wonder how many mornings he's woken up alone, with no one to tuck him back in.

"can't sleep?" you ask him, standing across from him and leaning against the table. 

"this is when i usually wake up," you recall his voice the night before when satoru was teasing him, rougher than a boy's should be. but it's soft now, quiet. 

it's probably seven if the clock on your bedside table is to be believed. 

"you were up pretty late, though." 

he almost rolls his eyes, remembering the events of the night before. 

and you can tell that he doesn't really want to talk to you. he doesn't know anything about you, or what you want with him. why should he trust you? 

you clear your throat. "how old are you?" 

he looks up again. "six. why?" 

"satoru wasn't sure." 

this time, megumi actually rolls his eyes. you're familiar with this sort of annoyance directed at satoru, so you smile, just a little bit. at least there's something you can relate to. 

"and tsumiki?" 

"seven." 

you nod, stepping away. 

what do you say to a boy who has been dragged into your home by a maniac? 

you sigh, clearing your throat again. "are you hungry?" 

megumi's eyes narrow. there's a brief second between the two of you, where some sort of understanding passes through his eyes. who was the last person to make him breakfast? 

and then he nods, slowly. 

you smile. "okay. c'mon, let's see if i have anything you like." 

*

next part.

[hp-hcs]

• smut (?) • like a record, baby [soulmate au]—poly! simp! mattheo riddle x poly! simp! harry potter x poly! gn! reader

hey sorry i fell off the face of the planet for like two and a half months i fell back into my old hyperfixation and started a new blog just for that and lowkey forgot abt this one and kinda fell out of the fandom lmfao anywhore—

inspired by that one Dead or Alive song

tws: sort of smut? it’s mostly implied and also like two sentences and also doesn’t involve the reader whatsoever?, lowkey bottom mattheo tbh, blink-and-you-miss-it reference to potential harry self harm :(, so fucking ooc omg

not edited if you see any mistakes shhh no you didn’t

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

If I, I get to know your name / Well, if I could trace your private number, baby

Mattheo huffed, resigned. It was official; he’d finally have to talk to Scarboy.

Eight years.

Eight years of avoiding the damn boy. Eight years of ignoring the sudden sharp pains that would slice across his forehead, right where Potter’s famous scar was. Eight years of waking up in the middle of the night from nightmares that weren’t his own.

His fingers reached down on instinct to mindlessly trace the prominent soulmarks etched into his wrist. His fingertips skated over the sprawling lightning bolt mark that twisted its way up his arm, its branching lines crossing over part of his faded Dark Mark.

His fingers then marched their way across his scarred skin to the other soulmark. It was an odd black circle with a smaller red circle inside, and an even smaller circle in the center. Thin white lines following the curve of the circular shape were intermittently drawn on the black part, giving it a ridge-like visual texture.

He had no fucking clue what it was supposed to be. Neither did his mother, the one time he’d worked up the nerve to ask her about it.

Potter might, a little voice in his head whispered. He was raised by Mudbloods. If it’s a Muggle symbol, he might know what it is.

Fuck. He really would have to get over himself and talk to Scarboy.

~~~

I, I got to be your friend now, baby

“It’s a vinyl.”

Mattheo paused. “What?”

“The mark. It’s a vinyl.” Harry pushed his glasses up his nose where they’d started to slip down. “It’s an old-fashioned way Muggles used to play music.”

“Music? Is it an instrument?” Mattheo asked, his eyes lingering for just a second too long on Harry’s slender fingers. Potter had taken the news of being Mattheo’s soulmate surprisingly well. He’d just shrugged and nodded, saying he already knew.

Mattheo looks between his and Harry’s exposed forearms. His skin itches to pull his sleeve down, to cover up the shameful mark of his father burned into his flesh for eternity. Harry’s arm is also scarred, but in a much different way. Both bear the same circular soulmark—the vinyl, as Potter had called it—although their other soulmarks differed. Mattheo’s was the obvious lightning bolt, while Harry’s was a cigarette, puffing out a cloud of smoke that formed the shape of a snake.

And I would like to move in just a little bit closer

“Sort of,” Harry answered his original question, doing his best to explain as his fingers tracing the identical vinyl soulmark on his own wrist. “It’s just a plastic disk. When you put it on a record player, it spins, and a little needle follows the grooves. It plays whatever music was recorded onto it.”

“Uh huh,” Mattheo hummed in acknowledgment a half-second too late, too busy focusing on Harry’s fingers. Had they always looked that good?

Harry smirked and reached over, lacing their hands together. Mattheo’s skin promptly heated up about ten degrees and the skin under his soulmark sizzled with a pleasant buzz before radiating a soft silver glow.

That’s it. They were together; now, until forever.

~~~

Mattheo’s legs shook, his teeth digging into his lower lip hard enough to bleed. “A-ah~ P-Potter—”

“Nuh uh.” The man in question, currently hidden underneath a library table, pulled off. “That’s not my name, and you know it.”

“Harry!”

“That’s it. Good boy.”

~~~

All I know is that to me / You look like you're lots of fun

They refused to call it the Yule Ball this year. After all, the war was over, there was no reason to continue separating Muggleborns and Purebloods with something as silly as a school dance.

So, much to the horror of many a Pureblood parent, Hogwarts was hosting Prom this year.

Open up your lovin' arms / Watch out, here I come

Harry was having a blast. Admin had insisted on only playing Muggle music at Prom, and it had been a wonderfully painful mix of *Nsync, Outkast, and Ricky Martin.

“You have to dance with me,” Harry demanded, pulling Mattheo out onto the dance floor by his arm.

Mattheo stumbled, still not used to the odd formal attire Muggles wore. (A tuxedo, Harry had informed him it was called.) Although he’d never say it aloud, he preferred the tux over his usual dress robes. So much easier to move around in; why were dress robes ever on the table as an option?

~~~

You spin me right ‘round, baby, right ‘round / Like a record, baby, right ‘round, ‘round, ‘round

You spin around in a circle with Hermione, both of you doing your best to teach Pansy Parkinson—Hermione’s soulmate—how to dance anything other than ballroom-style.

All three of you were laughing like mad, spinning around and around until you all got dizzy.

All three of you tried to stumble off the dance floor and back to the table you’d called dibs on earlier in the night. As you’re stumbling back, dizzy, you bump into a pair of men.

Suddenly, your outfit feels a lot stuffier than it did before. You feel hot all over.

One of the men grabs your bicep to try to steady you. His hands are slick with sweat. The other also looks rather warm, his face flushed. All three of you stare at each other as a bright silver glow emanating from three people’s wrists suddenly cuts through the dimmed lights of the dance floor.

I want your love.

[yumecel]

But that is how the guilty speak 💙

yandere!neuvillette / f!reader | 6.1k words

summary: how does neuvillette go about getting your attention? by trapping you in a kafkaesque nightmare.

reader specifics: female, she/her woman terms whatever

tags: neuvillette SUFFERS, a little angsty, pining, ooc neuvillette for the purposes of yandere, oral, he’s a gentleman all the same

a/n: so this is basically a yandere version of “the trial” by franz kafka. happy birthday neuvillette!! happy neuvillette day!

tws: yandere, stalking, dubcon, manipulation

i promise i’m 18+, i promise i read the warnings, i promise i’m okay with seeing dark content, i know one thousand curses will karmically descend on me should i lie [yes⬇️] [no↩️]

——💙——

“Chief Justice Neuvillette would like to see you today.”

For the first time in days, you let out a sigh of relief. You barely feel like you’ve been given any room to breathe ever since you woke up to the Gardes outside your door, Gardemeks in tow, arresting you for a crime… that they had not yet revealed the nature of.

You’d been detained- first within your home, then at the Palais Mermonia, being taken care of to the highest standard both times. You didn’t have to cook- meals were delivered to you in a timely fashion. Come a certain point following lunch, a hot drink and small selection of cakes would be delivered. Afternoon tea. You were being given afternoon tea as a prisoner of the law.

Were all detainments this luxurious? you had wondered, opening your daily copy of The Steambird a few days in. When you had started your stay at the Palais Mermonia, it had felt like an all-inclusive resort. Which was a shame, since it really would have been more comforting had anyone actually explained to you what was going on. You’d tried to pry this answer from the Gardes many times, but were met with indifference. Did someone slander you? Did you sleepwalk your way into criminal activity? Day by day, the firm grasp you had on innocence started to waver. It never completely slipped- no, the deep confusion presided above all else- but there were moments of wondering what could have gone so, so wrong to warrant this. You had counted all your sins, listed all your inadequacies, and failed to come to any reasonable conclusion. Within the eyes of the Gardes, you were completely at the mercy of a higher authority.

Now, after three weeks of detainment, you’d finally meet that higher authority. The only authority that now mattered to you. Well aware that most meet Chief Justice Neuvillette within the context of court, you desperately hoped these circumstances meant that nothing serious had occurred. Your most recent theory involved being in witness protection, and perhaps he’d explain-

“Come on. He’s waiting.”

Shaking out of your racing thoughts, perhaps a little maddened by the persistent loneliness and alienation, you obediently followed the Gardes. When you finally entered the room, he stood up from his desk to greet you.

“(Y/N). Come, have a seat. I have prepared tea. I trust this beverage choice is acceptable?”

You nodded, sitting down on one of the sofas where a teacup sat on the table before it.

Neuvillette had sat down opposite you, a small chalice in front of him. Midday wine?

“You can have water instead, if desired.” He said, raising the chalice before taking a sip. So it was just water?

“No, no. This is lovely. Thank you, Chief Justice Neuvillette.”

“Neuvillette is fine.”

“I see. In that case, thank you Neuvillette.”

He nods. You nod. You can’t stand staring into his eyes anymore. You pick up your teacup with a soft clank against the saucer and look down into it after taking a small sip. You hope you didn’t accidentally slurp it too loud. The room is chillingly silent, so quiet that you can hear your blood pumping. He sets his chalice down on the table. You wonder if you should speak. You decide against it.

“How are you?” Neuvillette says suddenly, almost as if remembering he even intended to ask.

“Oh, I… well, I’m fine, but I am very confused.” You respond, a small laugh following. It does little to alleviate the tension.

“I see. That is understandable, given your circumstances.” The tone isn’t cold, but it isn’t warm. It is simply spoken gently, like a hesitant hand making its way onto your shoulder.

He pauses. You nod, still looking away from him. Desperate for him to explain without seeming too concerned with your state of affairs, you meet his eyes again and are thankful when he takes this as a cue to continue speaking.

“Speaking of which, your circumstances have been difficult to navigate indeed. It is a case I have been personally reviewing since the start of your detainment. My deepest apologies for the confusion.”

Sensing sincerity in his voice, you decide to tentatively prod a little. “May I please know more about the case itself?”

He takes in a breath before continuing, gaze dropping to the floor briefly. “It is so mountainous that I am unsure where to begin. I can, however, tell you that you must be protected in order to not disturb the crime scene or convene with any third parties.”

You try to still your hands as you reach for your teacup, hardly satiated by his answer. Ruling out neither being a suspect or being a witness, it was so vague and meaningless he may as well have not answered you at all.

“I see… I think. Are you unable to divulge any details about the case to me? I- I’m sorry to be rude, it’s just, these three weeks-“ You begin, trailing off at his palm steadily raising. You silence yourself before taking another sip of the tea, willing your eyes to meet his once again as you sit back.

“There is no need for apologies. It is I who should be apologising to you. Many things about the case are strictly confidential. Guilt or innocence do not matter at this stage. Only the necessity of the actions taken.”

Your body slumps in defeat as your mouth asks the question you’ve been dreading. “Will I need to be detained any longer?”

“Yes. Indefinitely, I’m afraid.”

Fists clenching and unclenching in your lap. A sharp intake of your breath. Eyes begin to water. A desperate attempt to hide the tears is made by slouching forward, staring intently at the ground.

“It’s just that I haven’t been permitted to see my family or friends all this time, they’re probably worried about me…”

Neuvillette rises from his seat and comes quickly to your side, placing a hand on your back. You jolt, but Neuvillette does not falter. As it rubs in small circles, strangely comforting, strangely- strangely warm- he says, “Please, do not fret. It may be slightly inconvenient, but there is an alternate arrangement that would give you more freedom, should you desire it.”

Of course you desire it, of course, whatever price, you’d be willing to pay it to make this extended stay in purgatory any less isolating.

“What is it?” You sniffle.

Neuvillette remains silent for almost too long. You swear his hand presses just a little firmer on your back, almost to prevent you from sitting back up.

“An arrest via supervision. My supervision, to be precise. So long as you are by my side, any danger- whether towards you or from you- is suitably negated. Unfortunately, this does mean that you must accompany me to various trials and affairs. Would you find this satisfactory?”

Actually, it almost sounded too good to be true. You found your body relaxing. The Iudex would be looking after you, offering you a privileged view of the inner workings of his life- a topic of much discussion in Fontaine. You’d continue to eat well, you could likely communicate with others freely-

“Yes,” you say, unable to stop yourself. “I just want to be able to see my loved ones again.”

His hand finally leaves your body, leaving a residual warmth. “Very well. You may make the necessary arrangements to see these people after completing the paperwork. And… it is best if you tell them you have taken on new work at the Palais Mermonia in the meantime.”

“Of course,” you say, finally drinking the rest of your tea. “Thank you, Neuvillette.”

When he sits down at his desk, there is an almost imperceptible smile on his face. Is this the unselfish joy of helping the common folk?

“The pleasure is all mine.”

——💙——

Being permanently by Neuvillette’s side could almost be considered pleasant. There is the confinement, the unwarranted surveillance, but there are plenty of amenities alongside those.

He is not much a conversationalist, but he will speak to make your experience more bearable. Your meals come at regular intervals, and there is no shortage of things to do around the Palais Mermonia. Most days. There is, unavoidably, occasional boredom, quelled by walks outside and the arrival of new books and trinkets. He takes you to all of Furina’s plays that you can possibly attend, which you rather appreciate. Backstage, she once brings up that she’s happy Neuvillette now has a personal assistant to lighten his workload. Neuvillette does not disagree, and you nod. Beyond the remnants of her previous facade, Furina is kind and thoughtful, but you often wonder if your presence provides a comfortable buffer between her and Neuvillette. Often she talks only to you as Neuvillette stands there, watching in silence. It does make you wonder though, how despite being the ex-archon of Fontaine, even she is not privy to your situation.

Well, Furina may not be an official anymore, so perhaps there is really no need to know that you are technically Neuvillette’s prisoner rather than his assistant. Still, an accumulation of small things surrounding your circumstances grows, serving to both frighten and puzzle you.

The first is something you can never quite grow desensitised to, and it’s that… come nighttime, Neuvillette seems intent on checking if you are in bed, as if you were a child.

“I must apologise for reminding you, but it is standard practice in many prisons to ensure inmates are actually going to sleep at night.” He had told you one evening, when you tried to present your dismay as jokingly as possible. You personally feel him coming into your room (his guest room) to ensure you are adequately “tucked in” is not comparable, but you refrain from saying this.

You are also not allowed an alarm clock, so he wakes you up as part of his morning routine. The first face you see upon waking, the last face you see before sleeping.

There is also the fact that having constant access to the man in charge of your detainment should be useful in terms of information, but he doesn’t let on to anything at all.

You’re very careful not to upset Neuvillette. You are aware that your situation is a privilege, that the ease of being able to see people outside of him- simply telling him when you will be gone, where you’re going, and when you’ll be back- is a pretty good deal when compared to everyone you know finding out you’re under arrest and having to fill out paperwork to approve any actions.

Still, with every day that passes, your situation grows more nonsensical. There are never any updates on your case, though Neuvillette promises he’ll tell you as soon as he’s able to provide you with information. You continue to be in the presence of the most important authority in the entirety of Fontaine. You feel like you’re freeloading every time you eat, and end up helping Neuvillette with the simplest of tasks in his office to ease this. Your attendance to every trial, witnessing the necessary coldness of Neuvillette’s impartiality, makes the subtle way his face softens upon seeing you all the more obvious. You find yourself imagining him doing everything alone, perhaps with the occasional appearance of Furina, before your detainment. Eating most of his meals alone. Walking out after a particularly challenging trial and talking to only a few Gardes on the way. There is no such person that he approaches and asks, “Shall we depart?”- a formal question that really means Let’s go home. Nobody asks him what he’s thinking about afterwards, and there are no excuses to unwind upon reaching his residence. At the start of your detainment with him, he would comb through files immediately after removing his robes. Now he joins you on the sofa, spring water in hand as he either converses with you or listens to you flick through pages of a novel. And it’s strange to admit, but you’re starting to be able to taste the difference between each nation’s water, a symbol of your proximity to him.

You learn more about him than you thought you’d ever know. The tabloids would pay good money for any of it, but you’ve strangely started to consider him a friend rather than a jailor, and it wouldn’t feel right. Besides, you highly doubt Neuvillette would permit you to exit his supervision just to talk to disreputable reporters. You try your best to make the most of this strange existence, settling into his routine, and becoming part of his life.

One day, a melusine detective skips into his office, files in hand. It’s not one you’re unfamiliar with, having spoken to many of the melusines that enter, leave, and work in the Palais Mermonia.

“Monsieur Neuvillette, we must discuss this case a little further before proceeding.” She explains, brows furrowing, but when she looks up from the case files, you catch her eye.

“Ah, hello Miss (Y/N)! It’s lovely to see you. Monsieur Neuvillette, is Miss (Y/N) allowed to be in the room for this discussion? Or perhaps we should depart? My deepest apologies, Miss (Y/N).”

“I understand if not,” you pipe up, shuffling papers around on a table. “If it’s related to my case, or-“

“You have an active case, Miss (Y/N)?”

You’ve seen melusines forget things many times before, but this one, looks… positively puzzled.

“I… do.” You say tentatively, glancing to Neuvillette.

He looks rather stunned, but it’s only a deduction you could’ve made after weeks of seeing his face and neutral expression.

“Yes, but it has moved past the need for the Marechaussee Phantoms. It is perfectly fine for Miss (Y/N) to stay in the room.”

“Ah, I see! I hope everything resolves quickly, Miss (Y/N).”

“Thank you.” You say quietly.

You start to feel, more overwhelmingly, that there is something deeply wrong.

That night, he approaches your room for his regular checking-in of you. You’re sitting upright in bed, staring into space, thinking of how little you’ve seen of your own home in the past few months, thinking of how much of the world you now consume through a Neuvillette-vetted filter, thinking of how much gratitude you should actually feel about everything- until a gentle knock on the door stirs you.

When you tell him to come in, he wears only his slacks and dress shirt, robe abandoned, and downcast eyes.

“I regret that this is taking so long, (Y/N).”

The rain patters against your window.

You sigh quietly. “… It’s alright. You can’t help it, can you?”

A howl of wind.

“I can’t. I do wish I could.”

Lashes of rain now batter against the glass in quick succession.

“Then there’s no need to apologise.”

He stands in silence, still looking down , and you turn away from him, looking out to the dismal weather. There is such a profound sadness emanating off him that you’d do anything to take his mind off it.

“Hey, is the “hydro dragon, don’t cry” stuff real?”

You expect him to laugh and tell you no.

“Only some of the time . It’s true that I have quite a powerful connection to the waters of Fontaine.”

“What about this time?”

You look back to him, finding that he’s staring blankly ahead and out of the window.

“This time… cannot be helped.”

——💙——

“Thank you. I may just have to take you on as my real assistant when we escape our current circumstances.”

You laugh, trying to hide any sense of unease. The files you had just handed him were merely sorted by date, a task that a child could do. “There’s no need to flatter me. I know you managed perfectly fine before I was around.”

“Did I..?” He mumbles. It’s so unlike him that you do a double take.

“I mean, you sorted everything on your own, right?”

“Most of the time. Perhaps it’s more accurate to assume that I appreciate your company.”

Fighting off the surprise from the sudden compliment, you manage to say, “I appreciate yours too, Neuvillette.”

You’re unable to tell if it’s a lie. He’s more than just company. He’s your entire life, at this point.

But you see the corners of his lips twitch, and the way the sunlight seeps into his office fills the room with warmth. It’s hard not to be touched by a moment like this. It’s harder to refrain from asking about the status of your case. Something inside you, a primal form of fear and unease, steels you in the face of both challenges.

——💙——

Even though Neuvillette may be the Iudex, overseeing all legal proceedings in Fontaine, he seems to hold the nature of your case above you like some metaphysical higher power. Whilst your own autonomy belongs to the court, the Iudex acts based on his principles, and the intangible whisperings of your own proceedings. You are trapped in a state that possesses neither the luxuries of innocence nor the condemnation of guilt. You don’t often dare to proclaim innocence in front of Neuvillette- should you require to, it will be within the Opera Epiclese. In the face of the entire law, defending yourself without any knowledge of what laws have even been broken has an awful pointlessness to it.

You also don’t like bringing your case up because you swear it always rains.

Both you and Neuvillette are aware that every passing day is a test on your patience. It intensified a few weeks ago when he had turned down your request for a trip to Liyue in order to visit a friend.

“There is too much on my schedule for that week. Perhaps the following month, I will have the time to escort you.”

“Why not have someone else escort me? Surely it’s well within your power-“

He drops his pen, standing up, as if to remind you of his authority. “You would be too far away from me. Our agreement clearly states-“

“Our agreement? To protect me? To protect people from me?” You laugh bitterly. “It’s been months of this. Nothing has happened, and from my perspective, nothing has changed behind the scenes. And you’re telling me I can’t have the weekend to visit a friend on her birthday?”

He remains impassive, yet a stress in his voice betrays it. “Anything could happen, (Y/N). I ask you to respect my decision on this, and trust it is within your best interests. I am more than willing to make all the necessary arrangements to send her a gift for the meantime.”

There is nothing else to do but accept defeat. The apologies, the ordering of your favourite foods, the, “I understand you’re upset with me”, and the, “Please know I wouldn’t be doing this without reason”- all serve to put salt in the wound.

With all your free time, it was only natural that you would eventually end up picking up a law book.

You’re allowed to take any book you want so long as you return it to where you found it, but the sudden interest in Fontainian law may be… suspicious. So you slip the heavy law books between novels and case retellings, bringing them to your room where you would be away from his watchful eyes. It takes a while to ascertain the correct volume, but you eventually manage to borrow the one on Fontainian laws of arrest and detainment.

You slot a bookmark about two thirds of the way through the book.

Part Seven: Wrongful Detention.

If he notices, he doesn’t say anything. And he knows you take books often, so one missing volume shouldn’t be a cause for concern. Within the volume, you hoped to find anything that could prove your detainment was unlawful, present this to him, and… hope he agrees?

You could kick up a storm in the Palais Mermonia. Wayward comments about how the Iudex violated the law, that not all citizens of Fontaine are treated impartially. The plan would come into fruition later- for the meantime, you needed to read.

Thumbing through the pages and observing the tiny size of the text, you grimace.

——💙——

“I’m going upstairs to read.”

His gaze follows you from where you hang up your coat to where you shuffle out of your shoes.

This time, there is no, “I see. Enjoy yourself” for you to hum at before leaving the room.

“Have you been particularly immersed in a series as of late? It seems this is now the only activity you do when the workday finishes.”

“Yes,” You respond. “I’m quite into it. I need to see how it ends.”

“I understand. The detective novels of Fontaine can be quite enthralling.” He tells you, with a sense of finality. You were expecting him to ask you what the series was. You were prepared to make something up, but it appears there is no need.

You continue reading the law book, switching it out for a light novel when Neuvillette normally knocks on your door and tells you he’s getting ready to retire for the evening, and if you’d like to join him downstairs for tea. You do, bringing the novel with you so suspicion isn’t aroused.

When you return upstairs, you switch it out once more with the law book, hiding it when Neuvillette arrives to ensure you’re in bed, wait until you hear his own bedroom door close, and then take it out again.

Reading under the dim light of your portable lamp, you must’ve been so engrossed that you hardly noticed him approaching.

“Oh? Pray tell, what has kept you up so late?”

Because suddenly he’s in your doorway, no knocking, and swiftly stepping over to you and your small desk.

“I-“

“Ah, the missing volume. You know, when studying law, it is generally recommended to start from volume one, which I don’t recall you taking.”

Your eyes are frozen to the book in front of you, despite feeling Neuvillette’s imposing presence behind you.

“Part Seven…” He murmurs, a finger tracing the header on the page. He’s completely leaning over you now, and you swear you can feel hot breath tickling the top of your head. “… as I suspected.”

He swiftly closes the book before stepping back from you, telling you to get out of the chair. You’re expecting him to guide you back into bed, tell you he’ll deal with you in the morning, but he doesn’t. With a hand placed on the small of your back, he guides you out of the room, down the hallway, and down the stairs. He motions for you to sit on the sofa before he busies himself in the kitchen with making tea.

When the tea is placed in front of you, you look up. There is no anger in his eyes like you thought there would be. There is only a forlorn expression that portrays deep loneliness.

“I know I owe you an explanation.” He says, sitting down beside you. You can hardly stand to look him, but see his face turned towards you in your peripheral vision.

His arms are wrapped around you before you can stop him, and you’re hauled into his lap in a swift motion, much to your dismay. “Please relax,” he murmurs. “I won’t hurt you.”

And you stop struggling, if only out of fear, the implication that he could hurt you if he desperately wanted to. You feel his face bury itself in the crook of your neck, an intimacy so foreign that your body jolts involuntarily.

“I have failed you greatly,” He mutters into your neck, “Centuries of impartiality, and…”

His arms tighten around you, squeezing you like he’s afraid you’ll slip out and seep through the floorboards.

“One person, one person to myself… all I ask… one person I would not turn my back on for the sake of my principles, I… I am deeply sorry you had to be the unlucky individual, (Y/N).”

There is nowhere for you to run, unable to move, locked in his arms. So instead, you speak.

“From the top, we can fix this,” You whisper, knowing he’s paying earnest attention to every word. “I wouldn’t tell anyone if you let me go.”

And what good would it do anyway?

He inhales sharply, giving you another squeeze. “I cannot do that. But what can I do? Countless nights have been spent lying awake, trying to orchestrate a true, unselfish reason for you to remain by my side,”

You continue listening, not daring to speak a word through his shaking breaths.

“When the desire first arose, I thought it better to hold you between judgement and ambivalence. It went on for too long. I see that now.”

The rain outside is more intense than you’ve ever seen it. A gust of wind seems to rush through his residence, and a door slams. Desperation. It is as if the storm wishes to claw at the doors, to be let in, to wreak havoc.

“Was there ever a case?” You breathe.

“Yes. You were being framed for a theft, but it was such a baseless lie that bringing you to court would have been unnecessary. It was over before you were detained at the Palais Mermonia.”

You clench your fists so tightly that you can feel nails digging into your palms. “Why me?”

He sighs like the whole world is collapsing onto his shoulders.

“There was a certain power in keeping you prisoner. I indulged this idea, of a person that wouldn’t need to be judged, constantly in the throes of the law. Neither innocent nor guilty. I was so lonely, (Y/N). I wanted to be able to share feelings with someone. I originally brought you to the Palais Mermonia to apologise formally but the more I observed… the more I yearned for something I could not otherwise have.”

You let yourself be cradled by him, let him slowly rock you as if you’re the one in emotional turmoil. In truth, you are betrayed- and painfully bitter about it- and perhaps angry at everything, perhaps scared, but Neuvillette is the least composed you have ever seen him. Time enters becomes a trickling sludge as his grip on you loosens just enough to allow movement, and you sip tea that’s already starting to go cold.

“I can’t ask for forgiveness. But please, please stay.”

“I can’t be a prisoner forever.” You admit, hanging your head.

Because in spite of everything, all the wrongs, there is a sense of pity. A hand of yours has been involuntarily plunged deep into his heart, and now that your fingers are wrapped around the glass core, you’re afraid it may shatter. Gently, you will let him down gently, and you will be free.

“You’ve always been more than a prisoner. Promise yourself to me. Marry me. Please, don’t let me rot like this forever. I beg you.”

“M-Marry you?” You sputter.

“I know those proceedings are of great significance to humans, so perhaps for the meantime you could accept engagement. The timing of our mating doesn’t matter.”

You attempt to shuffle off his lap, but he doesn’t loosen his grip. Time for a new strategy.

“Neuvillette… I’m flattered, but you know, I’m very much mortal-“

“An easily solved problem if you choose to become my mate.”

“- well, still-“

“Could you indulge me? Please, could you lend me the honour of experiencing union and understanding, even if merely once?”

His hand slides down to your thigh, not groping, not provocatively slipping upwards, but resting, slightly trembling.

As you manage to swivel around, and stare into his draconic eyes, you find yourself faced with centuries of near-imperceptible pain. His gaze doesn’t waver. You could drown in it.

Swimmers caught in rip currents shouldn’t waste their energy swimming against them. Rather, they should allow the current to take them so they can find a safe route back to shore.

You stop swimming against the current. An act of submission to the natural world. Finally, a whisper, barely recognisable as your own voice, speaks for you.

“Alright.”

And he pulls you beneath the surface, gently laying his lips on yours, slow, sweet, and soft.

——💙——

You follow him upstairs. He had offered to carry you, but you’d declined. You don’t think he takes offence, he only nods, coaxing you up every step like he fears one wrong move will send you fleeing.

He holds the door to his bedroom open for you. “Come in, now. Make yourself comfortable.”

You take a tentative seat on the side of his bed, watching as he unbuttons his shirt- most likely an old one, a few tears clumsily sewn up along a sleeve- and when he approaches you, undoubtedly catching how your eyes rake over his chest, his hands pause at the top of your silken pyjamas.

“May I?”

When you nod, it only takes a split second for his two hands to greedily yank the edges, sending every last button flying across the room. You gasp, nearly raising your arms to cover yourself but are beat by Neuvillette’s large but slender hands suddenly kneading at your breasts. Thumbs carefully circling around the buds, then pinching, squeezing, twisting. His hands find themselves under your arms, forcing you back onto the bed- you swear your body is practically lifted at some point, all of the strength he tends to keep subdued now on full display. Loose strands of his hair tickle your face as he leans down to kiss you, a far cry from the previous one. This is a kiss borne of starvation and avarice. He’s so warm against you, you can smell a light cologne, something resembling scented woods and the sea.

“We should get these off, too.” He says, not waiting for any input before two fingers hook the elastic of your pyjama bottoms and pull down. He guides them off your thighs, letting you wriggle out of them and discard them on the bedroom floor with a weak kick until you lie fully naked beneath him. He clambers off you for a moment, merely observing your form on his bedsheets as he kneels by your side. It’s hard not to admire his beautifully sculpted body, shining in the pale moonlight. His hands guide your legs open as he repositions himself and bows down ever closer to your core, where an embarrassing amount of heat has started to build. He’s between your legs, kissing all the way up your thigh as if it were you that was the deity, sucking and biting harder the closer he comes to your slit. His hand gropes your opposite thigh to balance himself, and his face pauses- so close you feel his breath fanning over your pussy, long enough for you to raise your head and see him staring right at you with draconic pupils blown wide.

“Now, please, allow me to prove my devotion.”

That’s when a finger prods at your entrance, slipping in all too easily, lips locking around your clit and sucking tenderly. Sensing the lack of resistance, another finger joins the first, curling slightly as you jolt upwards. The breath is knocked out of your lungs, something shameful and neglected coiling tighter at your core, growing stronger as his tongue flicks at you and fingers curl.

“Neuvillette!” You gasp. His intensity bears so much contrast to the usually composed man you see in front of you. Now, between your legs, he laps at you like a man possessed.

With two fingers continuing to pump against your clenching walls, his tongue continues to work at your clit, applying pressure in all right places. He’s exploring your body, fingers wavering, changing angles, figuring out what makes you jolt, what makes you whine, and best of all, what prompts you to whisper his name like a prayer. When his pace slows and his fingers are hardly moving inside of you, you beg so sweetly for him- little “Neuvillette”s and “Please, please”s- , and he delivers. You’d never have expected him to tease so much.

It’s really just that he’s doing anything to make you speak for him. Every whimper is an admission of guilt, you do want this, you want him, and it is beyond plausible deniability. That’s why he slows. That’s why he pauses. He needs to hear you say it for him. You deduce this fairly quickly, and embarrassingly, give in to every silent demand.

When his pressure loosens, when the fingers finally slip out, you twitch, crying out his name so he can finish you off.

“Patience, dear. You’ll be taken care of soon.”

He removes himself and you shuffle around on the bed, sitting up briefly, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed and resisting the temptation to finish the job yourself. He takes a handkerchief from his nightstand to wipe himself off, ever the meticulous one, refusing to look away. His gaze pins you in place, prevents a hand from slipping down to your neglected pussy. It’s only in full of view of you that he finally fully strips himself, hardly letting you get an eyeful of his shaft before he’s pushing your chest backwards, eyes full of adoration and slipping his warm hands under your thighs, moving your legs into the air, bent at the knee. His lips press down on yours so fondly as the head of his cock prods against you.

“Lift your head for me, beloved.”

And you obey as reaches over you, tip clumsily bumping against your slit. A pillow is placed beneath your head, feather stuffed, angling you perfectly to stare into his eyes.

He wants you to look at him.

“Perfect.” He breathes, positioning himself to slide into your cunt, a hand ghosting over your own and intertwining fingers.

Neuvillette moves so slowly, almost as if he’e being careful not to break you. You feel every inch of him sink into you, one by one. You close your eyes, fluttering them open every few seconds as he moves leisurely. His own gaze refuses to deviate from you, and a thumb strokes your cheek.

“Wouldn’t it be nice to have this forever?” His voice rumbles. “Have each other… forever?”

You open your mouth to respond- that’s not what we agreed to, that’s not-

But he bottoms out, pushing against you, and all you can manage is a wanton moan as you throw your head back.

In the back of your mind, you know Neuvillette is far too scrupulous to allow you to part from him after this. This is all of him, in front of you, and every inch buried inside of you. This is more than a taste of union.

He starts rocking in and out of you at a steady pace, feeling your walls clench around him. You swear you hear a growl rise from his throat, and a hand slowly starts to palm at your clit. You can feel Neuvillette’s every breath shudder through his body, every human constriction forced on his form. You can feel how he tries to control himself and move with grace, but also how his fingers simultaneously start to rub more frantically at you. Every sensation across your body is all him, all Neuvillette, a presence so overwhelming you can barely think of anything else. As you come closer to the edge, you sink into this feeling. No longer caring and with all shame abandoned, you call for him desperately, the only person that can possibly give you what you need.

And he does.

With his cock hammering in and out of you, hitting that spot that makes your toes curl and fists tighten around bedsheets, alongside his fingers rubbing against your most sensitive area, you cum so hard you see stars. You moan out his name one final time, spasming around his length as your eyes roll to the ceiling. Neuvillette continues to indulge himself within you, letting you ride out your orgasm with his persistent thrusts. He quickens, almost bordering on overstimulating you, but eventually pulls out, streaking white across your chest as he leans down and steals one final kiss. Forceful and desperate, he kisses like it’s his last chance to prove his love for you.

Perhaps it is. You feel him mutter something against your lips.

I love you.

Your stomach turns as the reality of the situation comes crashing down.

Trembling slightly and stepping back, the first question from his lips is, “Are you alright?”

It takes a short delay before you force yourself to meet his eyes, now donning an expression of concern. “Mm, yeah, just let me-“

You start to rise but Neuvillette shakes his head. “Please, let me wipe you off first.”

You end up staring blankly at the ceiling as he runs a handkerchief over you, swiping gently at your skin.

“I shall prepare a bath for us. Wait here. Relax.”

That’s the last you remember before he leaves the room. Alone with your thoughts, nothing seems to make sense. You take in all four corners of the ceiling and don’t do much else. It’s as if you’re temporarily suspended in a dreamlike state until Neuvillette reenters the room. He scoops you up from the bed and cradles you against his chest as you make your way to the bathroom. You think he presses a kiss or two against your forehead. You’re not sure. Half your body is cold, half of it is pressed against him, and you shiver in his arms. The floor beneath you moves faster.

That’s how you end up beside him in the bathtub as his hands run across your body. He doesn’t say anything to you, but the tender kisses pressed along your jawline speak for themselves.

Tonight, you will sleep in his bed. Tomorrow, you will wake up entangled in his limbs. You are to be cherished. You are to be taken care of. Nothing will change in the eyes of the public, at least not for now. But he will now have every last part of you.

You wished you had proclaimed your innocence sooner. You wish you had fought him. You could have argued that you are no less guilty than any other citizen of Fontaine, and should be treated as such. At least, if nothing else, you should’ve made a demand for fairness.

But that is how the guilty speak.

——💙——

fin. with love from yumecel. happy birthday neuvillette!! i love you!

[kiddiewrites]

Command Me To Be Well pt.2

I'm so sorry I took this long to post, I had to make modifications and still this part is not proof read :'D So if there's

This is part 2 to the “Command Me To Be Well” fic, i wanted a happy ending but it was going to go two ways with this one, either I rushed the ending or I stretched the angst a bit for maximum relief and fluff in the end, I want to do a “sunshine after a storm” kind of fic

The text in italics are memories, mostly from the boy's pov but there are (y/n)’s too :D

Angst, T.F.141 x reader, Platonic!T.F.141 x reader, HURT, bit of OOC T.F. 141, pining!reader, extension of the angst, Injured TF141, MAJOR injuries, late night confessions, Poly!141, fluff, bit of relief.

PART 1

∞ Happier Than Ever ∞

“I don’t relate to you, ‘cause I’d never treat me this shitty”

As it turns out, transfers among the task force without a valid reason were not easy to pull off, Laswell very much told you so when you tried to apply for a unit on the other side of the country.

So the next few days were full of awkwardness between you and the rest of the unit, not for lack of trying from the boys, except for Ghost, barely managing two words to you before you turned away from them, under the excuse of files that needed reviewing or soldiers that needed patching up.

Speaking of which, the other soldiers noticed a shift in your dynamic and even under no fault of their own taking the brunt of it, mainly in the shape of a monstruos training program led by a very much pissed off Lt. “Ghost” Riley. It was almost a common occurrence from the last few days that soldiers arrived exhausted at the med bay with dizzy spells or injured ankles or even passed out from exhaustion. Desperate for some sort of relief in their “punishment” some of them tried to convince you to go to the training grounds and have a talk with him so that maybe he could tone it down out of concern for their fiscal health. You refused. Not because you didn’t think they deserved it or something like that, but because of the glares he had been sending to you since that day. 

The Death Stare, is what the soldiers called it. Even the mention of your name would get the poor soldiers under a heavy gaze full of hate, needles to say when you tried to speak to him regarding injuries or his medical history he would just turn away not before looking at you like he wanted to murder you.

Johnny tried his hardest not to look at the spot in the dining hall where you used to sit on your breaks, a task that he couldn’t really manage to accomplish due to the weight of guilt that hung heavy on his shoulders since that day, the words you spoke replaying in his head like a nightmare.

- I know I’m pathetic to you, I know that you think I’m… how you put it, Sergeant MacTavish?- At the mention of his name he looked up at you - “so fucking annoying”, I think was the term used.- 

He tried to apologize over and over again but you always shut him down, not giving an inch. Out of pride or hatred he couldn't tell but … your eyes… your sad (e/c) eyes adorned with heavy dark circles under them, made the regret multiply.

-Don’t sweat it, Sergeant, let’s just don’t let it affect our work- you’d say with a tight lip smile and a tired sigh. 

But that was just it, it may not affect you but it sure affected him… more than he cared to admit, he never thought that he’d miss your shining eyes and blushing cheeks, that he’d miss your shy giggles and the way you’d follow him around base with a box of cookies or a bag of gummy bears that you’d share. Oh, how he regretted every word that came out of his mouth that night but by all the Gods above, he would fix it. He was a stubborn one after all. 

Kyle was a bit harder to read, for such a calm and collected man he was feeling like shit. But he couldn’t bring himself to talk to you, not like Johnny or the captain tried to. He tried a more “actions over words” type of approach, trying to make sure you’d still take care of yourself and if you noticed it you didn’t say anything. In all honesty, he was about to give up, until one night where he stayed up late. It had been a rather slow day and he tried to catch up on his reading before they were inevitably deployed. He sat in a corner of the hardly used couch in the break room and there he stayed for a few hours until it was dark out, the clock reading almost 2am when he averted his gaze off of the pages. Setting the book aside, he stood up and stretched, a few joints popping while doing so. Recovering his book, he left the break room and headed for his dormitory. On the way back his mind drifted back to you and the way you always seemed to have the utmost care when patching him up, the way your brows would frown in concentration and your lips seemed to purse a bit. He remembered the time they came back from a mission, Kyle sporting a huge gash to his side and almost passing out when they landed. He remembers your voice, reassuring him he would be okay and giving instructions to the nurses who worked with you. He passed out but when he woke up there you were, still checking in on him.

The sun shone in his face, stinging his eyes when he tried to open them, the beeping of the heart monitor ringing in his ears and the distinctive smell of the med bay seeping into his nose. He groaned trying to get up, only to be stopped by your gentle hand guiding him back down. 

-Easy there, Sarge. You took a nasty cut to your side and lost a lot of blood, you’re lucky it didn’t go any deeper otherwise I don’t know if you’d been able to make it.- His eyes opened completely  and focused on your form standing next to his bed, with a gentle smile and tired eyes, no doubt from staying up all night saving him. With the sun giving you a different glow, he thought you looked almost angelical.

-It was a bit of a challenge to get the boys off of your side, I think Ghost threatened me when we took you to surgery.- you said with a small smile and a knowing look. 

-Something about framing me with murder of a ranking officer if I didn’t save you- you took a step back to check on his vitals in the monitor.

-I…-  He croaked, the lack of lubrication in his throat making it difficult to speak- I thou’ I was a goner fo’ sure- The reality sinking in once he was completely awake, the thought of not seeing the boys again forming a few tears in his eyes, you didn’t comment on them and he was grateful.

-Don’t worry, Kyle.- You said as you approached him and placed your hand in his arm, his name falling from your lips with such care that he felt a blush creeping up to his cheeks and looked away from you. 

-I won’t let you die on me, not when you need to go home- 

It was the way you said it, so gentle and reassuring. Letting a few tears escape, he felt your hand retreating and heard you moving around the room. It wasn’t until he heard the door open and your voice calling for the captain that he let the tears slowly and silently flow. 

-Captain, you can come in now, he’s awake.- Next thing he knew rough hands were cupping his face and turning his head, he saw the captain… no… not the captain, this was John he was seeing. Worried features and red puffy eyes. THAT  was John.

-You ok there, sarge?- his voice dripping with relief and fondness. Kyle stayed silent but gave a gentle nod. He soon heard other footsteps and turning to the door he saw Johnny and Simon, they approached with care. Johnny with a wide smile at seeing him alive and Simon with relief in his eyes, the baclava obscuring his face but they knew. Oh they knew their Lieutenant. 

- I’ll give you a moment, if you need me I’ll be right outside- your voice was soft but caring. Neither of them turned your way, except for the captain who turned back to you.

-Thanks Doc- he said with a tiny smile, at this yours grew a bit wider.

-Of course, cap- and with that you exited  the room, leaving the boys together to process what happened.

The memory brought a small smile to his face and he subconsciously reached for his side, where the now scar was. As he approached the barracks he walked by the med bay, where he saw that the light was on. He peeked through the small window and found you asleep over a few files, with a small smile and realizing a tiny sigh he walked in. Thanks to his years of service and the ability to walk almost imperceptibly helped him at the moment, very carefully he picked the throw blanket you had in one of the chairs before your desk and placed it on your shoulders. He heard you release a small sigh of relief and at that he let out a small chuckle. 

-Hav’ ye always been this hard’eaded?- he said in a low tone, trying his hardest not to wake you.

-We’re really sorry ya’ know?- He said it in a whisper, he didn’t really expect you to answer him, the way your chest was rising and falling made it clear that you were not conscious. 

He went for the exit and shot you a last glance before he left just as quietly as he entered. 

-I know- just a whisper… but he heard it, a small smile making its way to his lips.

-Goodnight, Doc- and so he left with a slightly better heart and in a better mood. 

“You made me hate this city”

Things seemed to be looking a bit better, at least you weren't entirely avoiding them now. 

And so, Soap saw his opportunity one morning and decided to talk things out with you.

There he stood with a little bag of pastries and a cup holder with two coffees, he had a whole speech prepared for this moment. But the moment he stood in front of your office door, he just couldn’t move. 

You could hear the shifting of his feet on the outside of your door, it had been a few days since he last tried to speak with you so you decided to take the next step, literally. 

You stood up from your desk and headed for the door, you opened it just as he was about to knock.

It is a funny sight, to see a man of his stature and build look like he was caught red handed, which he was. 

-Hiya there, sarge- And oh how he missed it the way your little smirk would accompany the way your head tilted a bit to your side as you looked up at him, it made him feel things, needy things. 

-Hiya the’e, doc- he said in a low voice and a small smile, he looked at you as if it was the first time he ever did, your hair pushed back with a headband letting him see your pretty (e/c) eyes. 

-May I com’ in, doc? I brou’ coffee and thos’ pastrees ye lik’ so much- It was the most gentle you ever heard him talk and it was heartwarming and really how couldn’t you say no to chocolate spread pastries and warm coffee.

-Come in, then.- You stepped to the side and he let himself in. 

You watched him for a bit before closing the door and making your way to the desk. 

You took a seat on your chair and signaled him to sit down, you cleared the few files that were littered across the desk so he could set the coffees and the pastries down. After everything was settled he reached over the desk to pass you your coffee, which you took from his hand accidentally brushing your fingers with his, you felt a little blush come up to your face. He sat back with a little smirk at your blushing face and sipped on his cup. You stayed there relishing in the silence and just looked at him, only to find him already looking at you. His beautiful blue eyes just staring back at yours, a little fondness to them but also with something else. Something that you really couldn’t figure out yet but had your stomach do a little flip. You stayed there for a few minutes just looking at each other, you couldn't help to release a little chuckle at the softness of it all. As if he’d never almost pinned you to your desk in a fight that day. 

-Some’in on yer min’, doc?- he said with a teasing tone, one that had you looking down at your desk to try and avoid his piercing eyes. 

As you looked up once again, you asked the question floating in your mind ever since he came in.

-Why are you here, John?- You’d never called him that, but it felt kinda nice saying his actual name. It felt good. 

-Shit, doc. I ain’ been call’d like tha’ since my ma was royaley pissd off at me.- The biggest grin plastered on his face as he said it, quickly changing to a light smile as he saw your gentle serious one. 

-I came t’ apologize, doc.- He looked down at his lap, not really wanting to meet your eye.

- I actet like a fecknig fool, I knew from the baggining you tried to geta long, but I jus…, I guess I realey couldn’ and wouldn’ want ta let ya in cos…- he went quiet, there was something else he wanted to say but saying out loud was a bit more difficult than he care to admit. 

-Johnny, it’s ok- His eyes shot up at you and he could see the smile on your face, a genuine forgiving smile. One that he would hold on to, even when he went onto the darkest of places. 

-I must admit I may have come on a bit too strongly and first, I know it could sometimes be a problem.- The sincerity in your voice was not lost to Johnny, almost as if this wasn’t the first time you had this conversation.

-And uhm, it’s not that I was mad at you for being annoyed with me.- At this Johnny frowned in confusion.

-Then… wa’ was it?- He was genuinely at a loss, he couldn’t really figure out what it was. 

You couldn’t help but laugh a bit, watching him furrow his brows and tilt his head to the side was cute, like a puppy. 

So you took a deep breath and said it… What was bothering you…

-It’s ‘cause you didn’t tell me from the beginning- His eyes were focused on you, your giggle sounded really cute but the reason behind it wasn’t something he expected.

-You’re not the first nor the last to say those things about me- His eyes widened and he felt the guilt starting to form in his chest

.-I…I’m sorry, doc…- He felt the shame rising in his chest along with something else, a tiny rage, a sense of protection coming over his entire self.

-You don’t have to worry about it, Sarge- Your smile was disarming, the genuine forgiveness coming in waves taking a hold in his heart. 

Blushing he smiled back and oh god, what a beautiful smile. All boyish and charming he looked so pretty… so you blushed.

-So, Sarge… wanna take the first bite?- The sly smirk and your low voice sent a tingle of excitement down his spine. 

-Ahh…I.. Eh yea’ yea’- his brain short circuited but it felt amazing, he reached for the chocolatey pastry and smiled.

You’ll be the end of him

“And I don’t talk shit about you…”

Something Price always found amusing was the way Simon would find “refuge” in his office when he didn’t want to deal with… anything really.

He would sit down in a chair, fold his arms and sulk, just staring at the wall and huffing.

First time he did it, Price tried to talk to him and all he got was grunts and hums. By the fifth time he sulked in his office, he just let him stay there for the afternoon and only addressed him after he finished his paperwork. Leaning back in his chair he stretched out and felt the satisfying pop of his back and arms.

He turned to look at Simon, who already seemed to be looking at him, a gleam of hunger in his eyes.

-Interested in a drink, Lieutenant?- He asked with a slight smirk and a tilt of his head, a soft satisfied growl was heard from the giant man as he stood up and made his way to the captain’s desk.

-I take any’hing ye give me… sir.- his seductive voice was muffled a bit by the baclava adorning his face but the tone was enough for Price to feel the effects of it in the most intimate part of his soul.

-Careful, Lt.- His eyes scanned the form of his second in command and found himself a bit hot under his uniform. The way that only a few words were affecting him made it so hard to resist, Simon knew exactly what to do and say to push his captain’s buttons and make him feel just the way he wanted to.

-Ye know we can’t be doin thi’ ‘ere- his voice was gruff and low and oh so inviting, his words were one thing but his body… it said something else entirely. 

-I den’ see ya resistin’- Simon caressed John’s face in a gentle manner, it was so gentle and so warm that he couldn’t help but lean into his hand. 

-Lieutenant, please.- His eyes closed and felt Simon settling into his lap, instinctively he wrapped his arms as much as he could over his wide hips helping his second in command to adjust to the size, when he opened his eyes he swears he felt something stir in his stomach, it was as if he saw them for the first time. The deep blue connecting with his in a very gentle and beautiful manner.

The intimate moment was held for a few minutes, relishing  in the silence where they stayed for a few more minutes trying to forget everything that had occurred for the last week. 

“Never told anyone, anything bad…”

The rising and falling of the captain’s chest was steady, however breathing was a bit difficult given the tattooed arm that rested across it, he turned his head to watch at the giant man that stayed with him all through the night. The silence was broken by the sound of the telephone ringing had the captain stood up from the bed to answer it, being a difficult task due to the insanely quick reflexes of the lieutenant, as carefully as he could he removed Simon’s arm and stood up to receive the call.

In the quiet of the morning Simon stirred in his sleep, he stretched his arm trying to find the warmth of the captain instead finding cold sheets he bolted right up, as he stood up, the captain came out of the bathroom with a towel draped around his hips.  He sat down in the bed, and caressed Simon's  hair while he informed him of their next assignment, one that would require you on the field since it would be a rather long deployment, “almost a month long assignment” he was told. So they couldn’t afford to bleed out while waiting for their extraction.

The growl that came from Simon’s throat was a dangerous one, he still hadn’t completely forgiven you for shoving Johnny, the rage stirring in his stomach at the thought of that day. 

-Ye’ know tha’ ye hav’ to get along with ‘er, ‘ight?- John tried everything he could for the past week to get you too to maybe bond a bit, but it was a tough task. He had been rude and you hadn’t backed down either, for every rude comment he made you responded with an equally cold and spiteful one. 

He didn’t like the idea of you joining in but… orders are orders. 

- Yes captain- 

And so one cloudy cold day with a medical bag strapped to your back you boarded the plane with your squad ready to be deployed. Not knowing what came ahead.

Tagging (If you'd like to be added to the taglist please comment here :D) : @blackhawkfanatic - @beebeechaos - @d3vils-adv0c8 @azkza - @asherwesley - @praying-for-the-sun @xbubbleduckx - @blepleaxelotle

[autumn-foxfire]

"I find the act of murder disgusting and unforgivable," Shinichi said with a whisper, "To steal away another person's life... I can't imagine ever bringing myself to ever do so." He sees Kaito in his mind's eye. Kaito, who picked up the mantle of a ghost for the sake of justice, who put himself on the front lines so no one else would have too, taking bruises and bullets so he can finally put the souls stolen by evil to rest, whether the harm comes from the dark who stole a boy's innocence or from the light who view him as nothing more than a nuisance instead of the hero he truly is. "I didn't think I'd ever be able to understand how one comes to feel that way," Shinichi continued. His fists were clenched so hard that his nails were digging into his skin and drawing blood. He stared Toichi straight in the eyes, the rage of a demon burning bright inside his own blue eyes, and he sees Kaito, his love, his moon, who had cried against Shinichi's shoulder when he finally shared his burden he had been made to shoulder by himself for too long. He sees Kaito, pale and broken, as his parents show him a ghost and tell him he's real. He sees the mockery they made of his beloved and feels nothing but a fury too strong for him to contain. "Yet," Shinichi spits at the man, the monster who was behind Kaito's nightmares, "looking at your smug face, it's taking all my will power not to snap your pathetic neck and put you back in the grave where you belong."

Yes, this is ooc, but Kaito deserves to have someone protect him from the monsters that are his parents and Shinichi is such a good person for that because he's constantly faced with the darkness of the world and you can see his anger when he doesn't understand how people can be so horrible, especially to those he loves.

[jm-2406]

Summary - Tommy Shelby has been slowly drifting away from his only son after losing his wife. You are a nurse specialising in children's wards. When Frances comes running to the hospital with little Charlie in her arms, you decide to give a piece of mind to the bigshot gangster.

Words - 1.5k

Note - this is silly. I wrote it in less than one hour. It features an OOC Tommy Shelby and a daring reader who doesn't fear him like others.

Tommy Shelby, MP OBE was not used to getting calls between meetings, especially from his loyal housekeeper who knew when not to bother him. He was busy dealing with some important people, drowning himself in work like he usually did after Grace passed away. It was not that he didn't care for his son but sometimes looking at him was too difficult for him, the little boy had so much of Grace in him. So imagine his surprise when instead of Frances it was someone else on the other side of the telephone.

"Mr Shelby, I'm not Frances. My name is (Y/N) and I'd like to let you know that your son is not well. You should come as soon as possible to the hospital." You informed him without any hesitation, the concern for Charlie made your nervousness take a back seat plus not looking directly at his blue eyes also helped in retaining your confidence.

"What happened to him?" His lazy drawl came as a reply. "Well if you insist…" You tried to stall, tried to get under his skin so that he'd come to see his son but his silence made you speak up. "Mr. Shelby, I understand that you are grieving but so is your son. He was having a nightmare and needed someone to hold him close, to soothe him. I'd say he needed his father, not his nanny or Frances. Help yourself and your son by being there for him." Without thinking about the consequences, you pour your heart out and immediately hang up.

• • •

It has been a few days since the incident. You were worrying about Charlie and went to meet him directly at 'Arrow House'. [Yes, you are daring and a risk taker]. You knocked gently, arranging the basket of freshly baked cookies for the three-year-old cherub in your arms.

"Who are you?" A deep male voice caught your attention. Looking up, your breath got caught in your throat. Standing in front of you was the man of the house himself, Thomas Shelby. "What are you doing here?" You questioned foolishly instead. In your defence, you did not know that he'd be home at eleven o'clock since it was a Tuesday. He merely raised his eyebrow at your remark.

“If you didn't know Miss, this is my house. I live here.” Your cheeks reddened and you turned around to escape when a high-pitched voice stopped you. "(Y/N)" shouted Charlie. "Call her inside daddy. She's my friend." He said - more like ordered - his father who complied with a small "as you say, son." You felt a sense of comfort seeing the father and son interacting almost normally after that phone call incident.

Nervously, you stepped inside and Frances immediately took your coat as well as the basket of cookies. Charlie ran inside to get his colouring pages and asked you to wait for him. You were looking here and there, avoiding the dark-haired man but he had other plans.

"Thank you," Tommy said. You furrowed your brows in confusion. He cleared his throat and elaborated. "For making me realise that I was unknowingly neglecting my son, pushing him away from me. I love him, I really do. Thank you for making us come closer." He was not a man of words, especially praises but something about you got him talking, was it your kind nature, your non-judgemental eyes or your stern yet concerned voice when you called him that day that made him open up to you, he didn't know… but that is a topic for later.

"You're welcome, Mr Shelby. Charles is a sweet boy. I wish well for him." You blushed, no one had said such kind words to you. "How about you join us for dinner? Charlie would like that." Tommy said unexpectedly. Just as you were about to deny it, considering it rude to intrude, Charlie came running to you asking you to stay and colour with him. You couldn't say no to that adorable face.

And that's how you spent the evening, laughing and enjoying the company of two Shelby men, happier than ever.

• • •

[PART - 2]

It has been almost half a year since that evening you spent in the company of the Shelby men and you couldn't help but feel lucky. Everything went uphill after that, luckily.

You found out that you and Tommy had a lot in common which was surprising in itself. You both were mostly emotionally detached but were willing to cross any line if it meant saving your family, you both liked to read though Tommy was secretive about it for reasons you still didn't know, and nothing could surpass the love you had for horses, those strong yet gentle beasts were the only faithful friend you had… except for each other.

While your thoughts started to roam in dangerous territory, you were still unsure of Tommy's feelings on the matter. You have heard that the man was ruthless and incapable of feeling affection but you saw a side of him that was hidden from the world, his gentle and loving sight, his respectful side… you were certain that what you felt for him may not be love but it wasn't anything less. You decided to ignore this newfound feeling, unsure of what he felt.

The sudden knock on your door pulled you out of your thoughts. "What-?" You were confused about finding a drunk Tommy Shelby on your doorstep. "(Y/N) How are you my angel?" He continued to stare at you making you realise that this was an actual question and not a rhetorical one. "I - uhh - I am fine Tommy. What are you doing here at midnight?" You pulled him inside.

The sight of a drunk Tommy Shelby lying on your cheap broken sofa with the bottle of Irish whiskey clasped in his hand was unusually tempting and soft, as he gazed up at you with his bright blue eyes.

"Charlie loves you (Y/N). Did you know he was calling for you earlier today?" He whispered and gulped the remaining of the whiskey immediately after.

"No Tommy. I am sorry. I was busy today." Your heart broke hearing about the little boy calling for you and not finding you by his side. "Yeah. Being a lifesaver is not easy, eh?" He said rhetorically this time, placing his hands on your waist. The cool of his hands seeping through the thin material of your nightgown.

"I asked him to be a well-behaved little boy and I'll bring you to him… maybe permanently what say?"

You gasped hearing his words, not knowing what he was suggesting. "Tommy… you're drunk. We'll talk about it in the morning if you still remember what you said." You pushed him to your bedroom, tucking him in like you'd do for Charlie. taking the spare pillow and blanket, you laid down on the sofa.

• • •

"You alright Mr Shelby?" You asked giving him a painkiller. He looked at you with wide eyes, just like Charlie would… The resemblance between them always melted your heart.

He cleared his throat before addressing you. "(Y/N) about last night - uhh - I meant what - what I said." You gawked at him, The Tommy Shelby stuttering in front of you. You were definitely special to him.

"I - you mean - what exactly did you mean by 'permanently' last night?" Your cheeks reddened, little hair on your neck stood as you awaited his answer.

"I didn't plan for this to happen so spontaneously but we gotta do what we gotta do right?" He paused and you held your breath for his next words. "I'm not good with words so beware. Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N) I am grateful for your help in more than one of my life problems. My son loves you and calls out for you all the time, I adore you and your strength. Will you do the honour of making me the luckiest man in Birmingham by marrying me?" Tommy pulled out a small jewellery box from his coat pocket and held before you a simple but elegant and beautiful princess-cut diamond ring.

You sobbed. "Is that even a question?" You nodded, unable to speak as he placed the ring on your finger. You jumped up, unable to control your excitement and hugged him with all your might. And for the first time in many years, Tommy Shelby was finally feeling peace. He felt a wave of hope… for himself and your future together.

• • •

[m1ckeyb3rry]

Idk if you were serious or not but I would love a Gagamaru fic where a shy/skittish reader wakes up from a nightmare & calls Gagamaru for comfort but our feral boy is on the move & just comes over instead & spends the night spooning y/n

── NIGHTMARE

Synopsis: Gagamaru has an unorthodox method of comforting you when you call him after a nightmare, but it works well enough that you can’t complain.

BLLK Masterlist

Pairing: Gagamau x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 1.4k

Content Warnings: nightmares, scaredy-cat reader, gagamaru is a lil weird but he’s got his heart in the right place so we love him

A/N: anon i NEVER joke about writing for obscure characters HAHA i will literally take any chance to do so hehe 🤩 i hope this is close to what you wanted anon!! i’ve literally never written gagamaru before so hopefully he’s not toooo ooc

Additional: check my pinned post to make sure i have requests open; after reading the rules, please feel free to make your own!

For a moment, you couldn’t be sure why you were awake or where you were. All you knew was that your heart was racing and your palms were clammy and your blanket was stifling, so stifling, but when you went to cast it away a voice in the back of your mind screamed don’t!

You gasped when you remembered. There was a person in your room, standing at the foot of your bed, a shadowy figure with a malevolent aura that was smiling at you sinisterly, waiting for you to notice them so that they could — so that they could — you squeezed your eyes shut and burrowed yourself back under the covers, hugging your knees to your chest and doing your best not to move or breathe or think or anything.

As your thoughts slowed, you blinked, realizing that you had just woken up from a nightmare, and there was a high chance that the person wasn’t real. Creeping back out of the sheets, you took a deep breath and then, all at once, flung them aside and raced to the light switch, flicking it on and holding your hands out in front of you defensively.

There was nothing. Your room was undisturbed, but your heart was still pounding, and you could not bring yourself to go back to sleep, not when the dream had been so vivid. Leaving the lights on, you returned to your bed, sitting on the edge with your legs crossed, turning on your phone and wincing when you saw the time.

Gagamaru’s voice sounded the same when he picked up your call, though it was rough and slightly distorted, no doubt a symptom of the cell service wherever he was. It was thick with sleep, as well, and belatedly you remembered how careful he always was to get a proper amount of sleep.

“Hello, Y/N?” he said.

“Gagamaru,” you sniffed, glancing at the depths of your closet, which were dark and endless and almost certainly contained something or another of the frightening sort. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he said. “Did something happen?”

“No,” you said. “Yes. I can’t sleep.”

“This is why you shouldn’t be on your phone so late. Screens are bad for your eyes,” he said.

“It’s not that,” you said. “I had a nightmare.”

“Ah,” he said. “Like, you saw something scary in your sleep?”

“Yeah,” you said.

“Okay,” he said, and then, abruptly, the call ended. You frowned, and for a moment you were too bewildered to be frightened, but then the emptiness of the house became too overwhelming, the silence without his voice all but deafening. There was a noise from downstairs, creaking and ominous, and though you knew it was most likely just the groan of the house settling or the whine of the fridge, it made you whimper and dive back into the safety of your blankets, leaving the lights on as you stared up at the ceiling.

A few moments later, there was a knock on your window. You waited, hoping beyond hope that it was a figment of your overactive imagination, but right after that was a second knock. You squealed, scrambling backwards, your blankets pulled up to your face, your back pressed against the headboard, only your eyes peeping out so you could stare at the window.

“Y/N, it’s me!” The shout was muffled, but it was undoubtedly Gagamaru, and although you really shouldn’t have been surprised, you were still somehow confused as you crossed your room to open the window for him. 

“Gagamaru?” you said. He was hanging on your windowsill with an uncanny dexterity, and when he saw you, his face split into a wide grin. You stumbled backwards as he swung into your room, shutting the window behind him. 

“You told me you had a nightmare, so I came to see you,” he said. “Was that wrong?”

You and Gagamaru had been going to school together for a while now, but while the others had shunned him for his wild strangeness, you had found it to be entirely appealing. There was a sort of kindness in his inability to sugarcoat anything, and his bluntness contrasted so harshly with your skittish demeanor that it circled around into compatibility. The two of you had been friends almost since you had met, although recently, your relationship with him had grown beyond mere friendship into something more — something that wasn’t quite definable but definitely crossed the line into a closeness that you had never felt with another person before.

“It wasn’t wrong, just unexpected,” you said, already more at ease now that he was there. His mere presence, imposing like a beast, felt like enough to ward anyone off if he didn’t want them there. “Especially that you got here so fast.”

“I know how you are,” he said, flopping onto your bed. “I didn’t want you to be scared for even a moment longer than you had to be. Do you think you’ll be able to sleep if I’m here?”

“Maybe,” you said. “Let me turn off the lights and try.”

You fumbled your way back to the bed in the darkness, lying beside him, your back to his broad chest as you tried to close your eyes. He tossed a casual arm over your waist, exhaling softly, and though you did feel marginally better, you still couldn’t quite bring yourself to sleep.

“Not working?” he said.

“You could tell?” you said.

“Yeah,” he said. “Your breathing isn’t even enough for you to be asleep. Do you want to talk about it?”

“It was horrible,” you said, swallowing, moving so that you could hold onto his hand. “There was a man waiting to kill me. It wasn’t for any reason — he just thought it was funny. He was waiting for me to wake up and realize that I was about to die, and then he was going to do it.”

“Hm,” he murmured sleepily.

“Do you think I’m stupid?” you said, a tear dripping from your eyes and splashing onto your pillow. “It’s dumb to be this scared over a dream, isn’t it?”

“You’re not stupid,” he said. “That’s scary. If I had that dream, I’d probably be scared when I woke up, too.”

“I bet you wouldn’t stay this scared for so long,” you said.

“Nah,” he said. “But that’s not a bad thing. I can’t be scared because I’ve gotta look out for you. You know I won’t ever let anything hurt you, right?”

“Even that stupid dream?” you said. “What if it’s real?”

“I’ll beat him up,” Gagamaru mumbled into your hair, adjusting his grip on you so that he could run his fingers along your sides. “I’ve fought a bear before….do you think some guy is going to be anything?”

“I remember that,” you said, laughing softly. He had come into school that day with bandages on his ears and a bruise on his cheek and an effortless attitude, as if it was just another day for him, as if ordinary people also went around wrestling with bears. “You’re crazy.”

“It’s not that hard to do,” he said. “Can you sleep now?”

He used his free hand to cover your eyes, giving you no choice but to close them. You exhaled and found that it would not be so difficult at all.

“I think I can,” you said. “You’ll stay, right? If something happens, you’ll be here?”

“Yes,” he said. “Yes, of course I will be. Why would I tell you I’d look out for you and then leave?”

It wasn’t like you were any less frightened, but having Gagamaru by your side was a boost of confidence, enough of one that you could finally be comfortable with drifting off. Maybe it was true that someone might come and try to hurt you. Maybe you’d slip into another nightmare — but this time, when you woke up, it would be with him, and you didn’t think it would be so horrible if he was there.

“I guess you wouldn’t,” you said.

“I wouldn’t,” he affirmed, sounding barely-awake at this point. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight,” you said. “Thank you for coming all of this way.”

“Of course,” he said. “I always will. If you need me, I’ll be there, and that’s a promise.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” you said with a yawn. “I really will.”

“You do that,” he said, wrapping himself around you tighter. It was then, and only then, that you could finally settle into sleep — one thankfully free of anything but happier scenes, some of them even reminiscent of the first days that you had met Gagamaru.

[cherubmm]

🍎☪⇢ ˗ˏˋ INJURIES ࿐ྂ

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ━━━━FEATURING: PASSIVE.nightmare

⊱.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ━━━━CONTENT WARNING: Yandere in general. Soft yandere. Unhealthy attachment. Obsessive Thoughts. Delusional mindset. Abandonment issue implied. Self-harm(?). Violence mention. Gashlight hinted. Vague whether the relationship is platonic or romantic (up to the reader's interpretation). Not-proofread. OOC. Reader was referred to as a 'prince' once

⊱.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ━━━━PROMPT BY : cherbmm

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: Deciding to use my own prompt instead from now on since i just realize that majority of my writing doesn't even align with the actual prompt.

Nightmare sat silently beneath the towering Tree of Feelings, his body aching from head to toe. The sharp pain in his ankle told him it might be damaged. His dark, torn clothes clung to him, barely holding together after another beating he'd endured. Scars lined his form from head to toe, and fractured bones peeked through disheveled fabric from rough handling. His gaze remained low, a dull, pained expression clouding his usual soft demeanor.

Then came your voice, sharp but full of concern, breaking through his haze. "Seriously, what's gotten into you?" you muttered, frowning as you knelt beside him, your hands working deftly to patch him up.

A rough bandaid was pressed against his cheekbone, causing nightmare to flinch as a small whimper escaping his lips. Your touch, although gentle compared to what he’d endured earlier, still sent little jolts of pain through his body. You were frustrated, he could tell, and you weren’t holding back.

"You’re gonna get yourself killed if you keep this up, nightmare," you grumbled, continuing to work. Your fingers were slightly rough as you cleaned a particularly nasty gash on his arm. "If I find out who did this—" you trailed off, your voice dropping to a near growl, "I swear I’ll make them eat more than a dirt."

The threats were half-hearted, yet there was an unmistakable edge to them that made him feel... safe, in a strange way. "I... I just—" he began, his meek voice barely rising above the rustling leaves, but you cut him off with another sharp retort.

As your hands continued their work, wrapping bandages around his arms with deliberate motions, Nightmare found himself staring off into the distance, His thoughts began to drift as you continued to aid on his injuries.

'Why do I keep doing this?' he thought bitterly, heart heavy with guilt and self-loathing. Those villagers… always hated him, fear him and don't want to do anything with him.

but you're different, you... stayed.

Nightmare clenched his fists. He hated making you worry, but at the same time, the thought of involving you terrified him. If those villagers ever found out you were close to him… stars, he couldn't bear the thought of you being hurt. They would do far worse to you, and that was a risk he wasn’t willing to take.

...So, he let them beat him. Let them take out their anger on him, use him as their punching bag. All so he could come back to you and see the way your brows furrowed in concern. All so you would patch him up, focus on him more.

A selfish part of him enjoyed it—not the pain directly—, enjoyed how much attention you gave him when he returned bruised and broken. He felt bad about it, but it wasn’t enough to make him stop. You were the only good thing in his life, and he would do whatever it took to keep you by his side.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t even realize how quiet he had become until a particularly rough tug on his arm made him flinch back into reality. You were wrapping a strip of silk tightly around his forearm to cover the broken bone beneath.

"Too many injuries," you grumbled, your eyes narrowing in frustration. "Damnit, nightmare— why are you not saying anything to me..?!"

The latter flinched once more, staying silent than necessary as his gaze stayed fixed on your face. You were frowning, lips twisted in frustration, your brows furrowed in anger. You looked absolutely furious, like you were ready to burn the entire village to the ground.

Nightmare blinked, momentarily disoriented as he focused on your face, taking in every detail. Despite the clear anger plastered across your features, you looked... beautiful. Ethereal, even. His eye lights flickered, a deep purple blush creeping across his cheekbones. His metamorphic heart began to pound, fast and hard. He couldn’t help but stare at you, utterly entranced

You looked like an angel to him— his very-own guardian angel.

'How could anyone be so beautiful?' His mind whispered before abruptly stopping as another wave of embarrassment washed over him. 'stop it. Stop thinking like that!' he scolded himself, He felt ashamed for even thinking this way, knowing you were only doing this because you cared for him as a friend. But that didn’t stop the thoughts from flooding in.

He quickly averted his gaze, his eyes darting to the grassy ground. Nightmare snapped his gaze away from you, staring down at the ground where his book lay open in the grass. It was an old story—one about a prince and a beast.

He hadn’t finished it yet, but the scene that stuck with him the most was the prince, leaning down to kiss the beast and break the curse, turning them into a beautiful princess.

His mind wandered again, and suddenly, he imagined you as the prince. And him? Well, he’d be the beast, of course. A cursed creature, waiting for someone to save him, waiting for you to...

...

Another layer purple flush dusted his cheekbones. It's a surprise you still haven't noticed it at this point (or maybe, you choose to ignore it). The thought made his entire face flush purple, his bones tingling with a strange warmth. 'What’s wrong with me?' He felt his soul twist in embarrassment, heat rising in his skull. 'This is so stupid, so embarrassing!'

“Hey, are you zoning out again?” You snapped your fingers in front of his face, pulling him back once more. Nightmare blinked rapidly, feeling the cold sweat trickling down his forehead.

“I-I’m sorry,” he mumbled. His voice was small, meek.

Ⓒ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐮𝐛𝐦𝐦 ──── 10/15/24 Navigation | Masterlist

[imutrt]

Vision | Atreides

Summary: Paul asked her " When you look at me, who do you see?"

Pairing: Paul Atreides x fem!oc ( x reader tagged too, scroll if you don't like it)

Warning: hes a sad boi and i dont know anything about the dune universe. ooc. Spoilers! Kind of nsfw ( no details) A sucky ending bc i went off track.

Note: I just saw dune pt 2 yesterday and I already forgot what it's about😅 Lady Jessica will ALWAYS be in my mind tho. She's so beautiful.

In the night, he was growling.

Aethal shifted in the little space she has. They're close together, the heat of Paul's body brushed against her face. Too hot?

She shrugged out of the sleeping pod and placed a hand closer to his neck. Too hot.

" Paul." Aethal let out a low call as he twitch. " Hey."

He does not stop speaking.

The lady held her breath then, gazing at the angry frown on Paul's face, attempting to hear his voice over her own growing heartbeat.

" Kwisatz Haderach." She heard him mumble. " Muad'dib, Atreides.."

" Paul." Aethal was louder, shaking his shoulder. " Wake up."

The silence of the desert returned to the tent in an instant. She heard no breath, no gasp, only the sound of drum inside her chest. His eyes were open, she saw, but he does not blink.

Aethal searched for her water tube in the stillsuit, staring at him still. The liquid didn't reach her mouth yet when Paul lunged for her like the dogs she owned.

They landed in her sleeping pod, his face deep in her neck. In the moment of shock, Aethal felt a trickle of coolness run down the side of her jaw. Water, she realized, and scrambled to close her tube. Something hot licked away the droplets and she froze.

" Don't waste water." Paul whispered, pressing his feverish face against hers. " I want more."

" So you do." She touched his forehead, then kissed him. " You're burning up."

" It's alright. " He panted as they broke apart, " Happens sometimes."

" You can't just have a fever and call it normal, Paul."

" It will go away." He huffed, " It will go away and I'll be fine. Don't worry." He raised his head from her neck and pecked her face. " Aethal, I want water."

" You've got it on you." The lady held his jaw in one hand, and fished out his stillsuit's tube with the other. " Drink it yourself, Paul Atreides. What is it that you're trying to do?"

The boy caught the tube after a long, wordless stare at Aethal, then dropped his head limply onto her chest. " I had a nightmare, Lady Hughoc. In it, my body was split into an equal amount to the names I have." He looked up, eyes heavy and red, shining like sapphire in the glitters of moonlight that the tent allowed through.

" Paul Atreides." He grabbed her hand and guided it to the center of his brows, " Lisan al Gaib." his lips," Kwisatz Haderach." his chest, " Duke of Arrakis." his abdomen, then lower. " Muad'Dib."

" Which part would you claim, Aethal?" Paul whispered, " When you look at me, who do you see?"

Aethal's eyes, just as blue, grew dark as she retracted her hand. Paul's breath quickened when she shrugged him off to her side and kissed him again.

" Why not all of you?" She asked against his lips, " Every part."

" But I'd loose you."

" So you will, then."

" No." He perked, " no."

" Paul." Aethal slid a hand into his hair and pulled him closer. " Who are you today?"

He thought of the celebration today. The large stilltent, all the Fremen inside. Them patting him on his shoulder, congratulating him and others in their shared win against the Harkonnens. Stilgard, preaching the prophecy of Lisan al Gaib, then giving him his name.

" Muad'Dib."

" Muad'Dib, then." her hand touched where he had left her. " I didn't know you in the past, and I won't know you tomorrow until tomorrow comes. If you truly become their Lisan al Gaib tomorrow, I'll still love you. But, if you turn into a sandworm? I'll reconsider."

[morally-gray-men-for-life]

Midnight Confessions (Part 1/2)

Pairing: Enoch O’Connor x Fem!reader

Genre: fluff, almost smut, friends to lovers

Summary: After months of you both pinning over each other, he comes to you one night and feelings come to the surface.

Word count: 3.8k

Warnings: Not beta or proof read, slight ooc Enoch?, marking kink

A/N: This is the first fanfic I’ve ever written I apologize for the shit writing, this was also loosely based off a conversation I had with a bot I made on character ai. Also no hate to Olive I love her

ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+

Its half past midnight and you can’t sleep, deciding to read you quietly get out of bed, the floor boards of the old children’s home gently creaking under your feet as you take a few step towards your book shelf.

Before your finger tips could graze the spine of the book you reached for you heard a quiet knock at your door, considering the odd hour you assume it’s one of the young children coming to you because of a nightmare, not wanting to wake Miss Peregrine and disturb her very structure schedule.

Instead, when you open the door you find Enoch staring back at you, dark circles had started forming around his eyes from lack of sleep you guessed. “Enoch? What are you doing up?” You spoke in a hushed voice so no one would be woken up, the walls of the house were practically paper thin.

He shifted awkwardly from one foot to another in the doorway, his gaze falling to the floor, “I could ask you the same thing ..” he muttered, clearly looking slightly uncomfortable, unsure of himself, this was unusual for him you thought, usually he was less fidgety.

You smile slightly at him, he was never someone to seek out company unless it was you, for some reason you and him had bonded almost instantly after meeting, “I just couldn’t sleep honestly, do you want to hangout maybe? Miss Peregrine can’t get mad about you being in my room if she’s asleep” you giggle at the last part of what you just said, remember the time Miss Peregrine gave a lecture after realizing you and Enoch had become friends, apparently because of us being teenagers we weren’t allowed to be in one of our rooms together without someone else there.

He let out an amused scoff as he remembered that day, thinking back to how mad Miss Peregrine had gotten after she walked into your room without knocking and saw the two of you sitting on the bed together talking. Her face going as red as a tomato, “You don’t think she’d be too upset if she knew you were letting a boy into your room this late at night?…She might faint.”

Enoch smirked, a hint of his usual cockiness returning with that familiar expression, you smiled and laughed softly into my hand, you moved away from the door so he could come in.

You walked over to my bed and sat cross legged by your pillows, watching him close the door behind him and sit by the foot of your bed, “It’s not like you’d try something, your so head over heels for Olive” laughing at your jab at his blatant dislike for the girl that has been following him around like a lost puppy since they met.

Enoch’s smirk quickly turning into a frown and a grumble of displeasure, remembering the way Olive had practically been stalking him since she arrived, the thought of that girl irritating him, his dark eyes rolling at the mention of her name. “Don’t remind me.. that girl is a little demon. I swear she’s been following me everywhere recently. He muttered bitterly, leaning back against the foot of the bed frame, crossing his arms and stretching out his legs in front of him.

“Awwwwww poor Enochhhh, she just has a crush on you, it’s kind of hilarious”, you move yourself so you’re laying on my back with your head next to his thigh, you laugh at the teasing of him knowing that he finds it a tad bit amusing. You yourself had developed a small crush on Enoch over the months that you had been friends. He was sarcastic, funny, sharp witted, kind hearted, had a soft spot of little kids, just the right amount of mean sometimes, and so fucking handsome.

“Plus it’s kind of hilarious watching her follow you around like a dog and you have to deal with it because you know Miss Peregrine would get you in trouble for being mean, and your soft spot of kids doesn’t help considering she’s a bit younger than us”. Enoch was clearly trying to keep an annoyed and grumpy expression on his face, his arms crossed over his chest, trying to keep a scowl on his face but ultimately failed when a small snicker came out.

The sight of olive following him around almost like a lost dog was actually quite funny as you said. He looked down at you as you laid on your back next to him “I do not have a soft spot for children.” He muttered in a grumpy voice, that was very much not convincing, you snicked at his extremely obvious lie. Looking up at him thought your eyelashes to make eye contact with him, he looked almost to handsome in the sliver of moonlight coming through your curtains, his short black loose curls still perfectly in place like they always were, his brown eyes that looked almost black from far away but in the light they looked like pools of honey.

“Ya I totally and completely believe you Enoch, you just simply want to dressing up as a fairy princess with Clair and Bronwyn and let them cover you in lipstick and eyeshadows, totally believe you”, you say with sarcasm and laughter in my voice, trying not to burst out laughing at Enoch’s attempt to keep his grumpy personality in tact around me.

He always seemed to smile more around you than most people, and god was his smile the most gorgeous thing you’d ever seen in a long time. Enoch tried his best to look even more grumpy and annoyed but a small smile tugging up the corner of his lips at your sarcastic remark, the memory of you walking in on him dressed in a pretty pink princess dress that Bron and Clair had forced on him popped into his mind.

“I only let them do that because they threatened to cover my room in glitter in my sleep if I didn’t let them dress me up..”, he grumbled defensively, crossing his arms over his chest, not wanting to admit that he had almost enjoyed it a bit. “We both know Bron is too sweet to do that, and Clair is basically the closest thing we have to an angel on earth. You keep telling yourself you had to though sweetheart-” You were laughing so hard tears start streaming down my face, you cover your face with a pillow so you hopefully don’t wake up anyone in the house with the sound of your cackling, you role over on your side facing Enoch from your stomach cramping from pure laughter and barely being able to breath without wheezing.

“God I missed hanging out with you like this”, you say trying to catch your breath and wiping your tears away. Enoch’s small smile only grew wider as he watched you laughing so hard that you couldn’t even breathe properly, the sight of your tears rolling down your cheeks combined with the nickname you had accidentally called him made his heart pound loudly in his chest.

“Yeah me too.. even if you’re completely insufferable most of the time” He joked, trying to hide how affected he was by you calling him ‘sweetheart’. “Oh hush you know you love me, you’d be so incredibly bored without me Enoch”, slight flirting had always been common in your friendship, especially on your side, you’d flirt with him naturally and then have to cover it as a joke so he wouldn’t know you’ve had a crush on him basically since you met.

Enoch was painfully aware of the way you’d often flirt with him, knowing it was all just a joke but he always secretly wondered if there was any truth to your flirtations “Me? Bored without you? I think it’d be way more fun around here without your annoying ass to bug me”, he teased in return, trying to act like the idea of you not around anymore didn’t terrify him.

You were suddenly feeling confident, most likely from the lack of sleep but it’s all the same, considering if maybe you should test if he feels the same for you, “Oh ya and you totally wouldn’t miss me at all, you know Clair tells me what you say about me right?”

Clair has never told you anything about what Enoch said about you before, but it’s a good way to see if he talks about you.Enoch felt like he just might have a heart attack from how fast his heart sped up in his chest, going from the usual pace to almost knocking against his ribs, the thought of you potentially finding out what he’s said about you made him feel like he was drowning.

“…what the hell has she been saying?”

He tried to play ignorant, keeping as stoic and unbothered look on his face as he could even though he was panicking inside, which was made evident by his accent getting thicker in the question. Liking the reaction he gave, you decided to mess with him a bit more, thinking of something that could get a bit more information out of him.

“Oh just that your hopelessly in love with me and she heard you talking about me in your sleep because her room is right next to yours”, you choke back the laughter that rises in your throat, she had told you he was talking about you in his sleep but nothing other than that.

If Enoch thought his heart was going fast before it was absolutely hammering in his chest now, it felt like it might explode from the sheer force of it. Panic rising in his throat as you joked about the possibility of him being in love with you, “what.” He exclaim almost incredulously, trying to fight against the redness that was spreading of his face, He couldn’t let you know how flustered and embarrassed he was.

You were a bit surprised at his reaction, except him to say something like her making up stories and not listening to her, but it was almost like he had said those things you joked about. Feeling a tab bit more confident you maneuvered yourself so you was now sitting up facing him. “Honestly I’m just glad Emma hasn’t reported back to you on what I’ve said about you, I’d be done for”, you chuckled out of nervousness and try to push down the anxiety growing in my stomach, what I was saying was risky. Thankfully if this interaction went south I could play it off as a joke.

Enoch’s heart was so loud it thumped in his ears, feeling a new rush of anxiety go through him as you confirmed that you thought about him in a similar way. Trying to act nonchalant, he let out a scoff and leaned back against your bed frame more “And what have you been saying about me? That I’m annoying? Cocky? That I’m way too handsome for my own good..?” He added the last part, looking for confirmation that you found him attractive.

you moved so your top half was now laying over his outstretched legs, a small blush rising to your face as you looked into his eyes once more. “I mean…that last part isn’t to far off from what I’ve said” You smile looked back on the many memories you have of Emma and you in her room, you going on and on about your massive crush on Enoch and her ranting about her crush on Jake.

Enoch’s breath hitched at the feeling of your top half laying across his legs, a new rush of excitement going through him. He swallowed back any nerves he had and tried to act a little arrogant and cocky, “Good to know you think I’m attractive.” He smirked, his heart pounding hard in his chest still, he was terrified and excited at the same time.

Deciding to take this flirting a step further, you move my hand to his arms that are loosely crossed over his chest, tucking your frankly small hand to his between his arms and tug his right arm towards you. Moving his hand so he was now holding your face, almost completely unable to look away from his eyes and before you could think you said, “Do you think I’m attractive?”

Enoch’s breath stuttered in his chest, his hand holding your face still as he looked down at you, the sight of you looking up at him through your eyelashes sent a thrill through him. He tried to continue his cocky nonchalant tone. Trying not to focus on how close you were to him, “Do you even need to ask? You’re the prettiest girl here, of course I think you’re attractive.”

Your eyes went wide and your confident demeanor dissolved at his words. A bright red blush spreading over your neck, face, and tips of my ears, shifting your gaze away from his now not have to the guts to flirt with him so straightforward. Butterflies filled your stomach in excitement and nervousness.

“Thank you… That means a lot coming from the most attractive guy on the island…”, your voice was barely a whistle for the last part of what you said, almost all confidence lost from your body.

Enoch felt a rush of pride go through him at your words, the confident smile returning to his face almost instantly. He had always been told he was attractive by girls in the past but when you said it, it meant so much more to him. He felt his body relax as the confidence returned to him, the sight of you suddenly so shy and nervous making him feel more in control, “I know I am, it’s quite obvious actually.” He jokes, not being able to resist a chance to show off his cocky and arrogant side, you laugh and roll my eyes at his joke, you’d always loved his sense of humor, “Oh shut up before I kiss you.”

You’d said it without thinking, almost immediately regretted what you just said a bit. You’d had the urge to kiss him since he come into my room and sat on the bed, if you didn’t care about anything you’d be making out with him by now.

Enoch had been in the middle of some smart-ass reply but he froze at your comment, the thought of kissing you making his brain go totally blank. His eyes widened and his cheeks coloured a soft red at the thought of you kissing him and the image of you straddling his lap crossed his mind, making his heart flutter in his chest. He could no longer resist the urge to tease you.

“And what if I want you to kiss me?”

“Don’t tease me Enoch, It’s cruel” you said with tinge of nervousness lashing my voice, you hadn’t kissed anyone in about 2 years but god did you want to kiss him.

The desire in your voice did not go unnoticed by Enoch, setting of a new wave of emotions in his chest, he’d never heard you sound like that before and it made his heart beat faster than he thought possible. He continued to look into. Your eyes, seeing the mixture of nervousness and desire on your face and feeling it echoed in his own chest.

“Oh yeah? Then do it.”

He challenged, his voice getting gruffer and his accent getting thicker, watching your reaction to make sure you weren’t uncomfortable. Without thinking you grabbed the collar of the sleep shirt he wore and pulled his face down to yours, your lips met and it felt like your body was lit on fire. Your lips fit perfectly together as you stayed there just savoring the moment for a while, your lips moving perfectly in sync.

Enoch let out a small sigh, his mind going blank as your lips met. Every thought was gone as you kissed. You lips against his felt like nothing he’d ever experienced before, like something straight out of a fairytale. He pulled your face closer to his as he kissed you, wanting you to be close as possible to him, wanting to hold you as if he was afraid you’d disappear from him.

You parted for a second and moved to sit on his lap, straddling him. Kissing him again and his hands moved to your waist, a soft groan falling from your mouth and being muffled by his. You moved the hand that wasn’t holding his shirt collar to his hair, threading your fingers through it and feeling the inky black strands between your fingers.

Enoch groaned as you moved to sit in his lap, his hands grabbing onto your hips, his hands gripping at your skin, the feeling of you in his lap making him feel strangely feral. Feeling your fingers in his hair cause another sound to come from the back of his throat, his lips left yours as he started to leave a trail of kisses down your neck, you let out a small gasp and soft moan at the feeling of his lips on your neck, before you know it he’s sucking marks on to your skin. Your hands move to the back of his neck and head, playing with his hair as he leaves love bites and hickeys across your neck.

Feeling your hands in his hair, your nails digging into his skin and the small sounds falling from your lips made him feel like he was drowning but in the best possible way. The sound of you moaning his name quietly only encouraged him to keep sucking and biting your neck, all he wanted was to hear more of you.

Three hours go by, next thing you know you are both naked under the covers of your bed, sweaty, exhausted, and completely euphoric. The sun is starting to just peak out over the horizon and come through a small crack in the curtains, Enoch holding you to his chest and rubbing small circles on your back while you lay there as happy as can be, “Told you, you’re hopelessly in love with me. The feeling is mutual though so I can’t really joke about it too much”.

You giggle at your own words and lean up to give him a small kiss on they jaw, Enoch chuckles and rolls his eyes at your comment, his hand sliding up and down your back as he looked down at you laying on his chest. The events that had just happened in this room over the last couple hours still felt like a dream, the feeling of you in his arms just felt so surreal. He tightened his arms around your waist, “Please, you’ve been hopelessly in love with me for months.” He jokes, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, you let out a laugh thinking about what would happen if Miss Peregrine walked in and saw the two of you like this.

“True I’ve been in love with you since we became friends. Oh god could you imagine if Miss Peregrine walked in right now? I think she’s spontaneously combust!” Laughing at the thought of her, she almost had a heart attack when we were just sitting on the bed talking about books, Enoch chuckled at the thought.

Miss Peregrine would have a field day if she walked in on us right now, the two of looking utterly disheveled and naked under the sheets. His hands continued to roam all over your back, never getting tired of the feeling of your skin under his hands, “She’d have me banned from your room in an instant. And we both know you’d never get a moments peace from all of her questions.”

“Oh good lord that’s true, she’d make me wear a fucking nuns dress for the rest of my life I bet. I’d still be too sexy for you to resist if she did though”, you say absolutely cracking up at the thought, you check the clock and see that we all have breakfast in an hour so Enoch should probably go back to his room to get fixed and look less like he just had sex for the last 3 hours.

Enoch laughs, thinking about Miss Peregrine’s reaction to finding out about the two of you together. The thought was equal parts hilarious and terrifying. His hands stopped roaming for a moment as he looked down at you, “I could never stop wanting you, no matter how ugly your clothes are” He teased before looking at the clock, groaning when he saw what time it was. “Damn. I’ve gotta get back to my room before everyone else starts waking up”.

You let out a long dramatic sigh as he gets out of bed, wishing he could stay for longer but knowing it wasn’t possible, “Ok love, I’ll see you at breakfast, I have to figure out how I’m going to cover all of these hickeys anyways.” You say groaning looking at my reflection in the small hand mirror you keep next to my bed, you had hickeys and bite marks from the top of my neck to my thighs “You’re so luck you’re hot or I would kick your ass right now, I’m so dead if anyone sees these”, you say laughing.

Enoch laughed as he watched you look at all the marks he’d left on you. The sight of you covered in love bites and hickeys that he’d given you, only made him want to climb right back into the bed and keep leaving them on you, “Oh I definitely know just how lucky I am when it comes to you. And to be fair I can’t blame myself when you look so damn good with my marks all over you”, he teased as he finished getting back into his clothes.

You blush at his comment, and then remember that you’d also left a hickey on his neck and he’d seemed to not notice it. He comes over and gives you a kiss on the forehead before kissing you on the lips and quietly leaving your room, giggling as you watch him leave before getting out of bed myself, putting on a comfortable knee length dark blue dress and trying to cover the hickeys on your neck with makeup.

Enoch quietly closes the door behind himself as he leaves and starts quickly walking back to his room, knowing that he needed to hurry and fix himself so he doesn’t risk being seen by anyone. The taste of you still on his lips, the sensation of you still burning on his skin. The walk back to his room felt like both the quickest and slowest walk he’d ever taken in his life. By the time he got back to his room he couldn’t help smile to himself as he remembered spending the last few hours with you.

[derangedanomaly]

Heyyyy- since you accept Obey me requests- here's my request ✌✌

Can you do Obey me brothers and their s/o being scared of then after a nightmare of an evil version of themselves?

Lucifer: His s/o's nightmare was them being eaten alive by Cerberus and Lucifer stood there drinking tea like he didn't care at all

Mammon: His s/o's nightmare was Mammon chopping off their body parts and being a backstabber

Leviathan: His s/o's nightmare was being drowned by him

Satan: His s/o's nightmare was Satan torturing them with a book called "Medieval Torture"

Asmodeus: His s/o's nightmare was their skin being pulled off for it being "hideous and ugly"

Beelzebub: His s/o's nightmare was being eaten by him

Belphegor: His s/o's nightmare was being choked and their eyes and mouth glued

Here's you're first ever Obey Me request!

Yay! Thank you for the Obey Me! request! I haven't played Obey me for awhile, and my hyper fixation is on Undertale right now, so this might be a little ooc. (Maybe) But I hope you'll enjoy! :D

Masterlist

Nightmares

(OM! brothers x reader)

Warning: Disturbing nightmares, panic attack (?), cannibalism, drowning, torture, death, maybe some headcanons of my own

❗️Background info: The brothers and you are sharing a bed in this.

Lucifer:

Lucifer is almost always doing paperwork, so he'll probably just sit on his chair while you're sleeping in your shared bed.

You never succeeded in dragging him to sleep, and you got tired after awhile, so you just gave up.

Lucifer does look at your sleeping form more than once while doing his paperwork though. And since there's no one in the room... and you're asleep.. he will smile stupidly while looking at your calm form. (You know, that ONE smile that's in cartoons. The lovey-dovey one.)

You usually have peaceful nightmares, or they're not really that scary to you. But- one night was different...it was....

Terrifying. That's the only way you could describe this scenery..

You truly felt immense fear, being in this black pit of darkness. Where were you? Oh how you wish you could answer this question with a confident smile on your face.. but you can't. You have no sense of direction, since this place doesn't seem to have no end..

After your eyes finally adjusted, you were met with Cerberus. Yours and Lucifer's pet.. well, more so Lucifer's. But he liked you very much too! He was always a great dog! Often guarding you, which Lucifer praises him for- but wait... why does this look very- intimidating now? You were never terrified of him before, but now, something tells you to run. Run as far as you can. But you can't bring yourself to..

Your soft breaths are starting to turn more heavy, as you basically start panting now, taking a few steps back from the lingering gaze of the pup you once, without any fear, petted. What is happening? Your hands are starting to shake, as you search for an escape, until you spot Lucifer, just right behind Cerberus. You perk up upon noticing him, hoping he'll help you out. "Honey!" You yelp at him, but didn't get to finish as Cerberus suddenly flung at you. You scream as you felt his teeth tearing themselves into your stomach. You frantically look at Lucifer's shadowed face again. "L-Lucifer?!" The last thing you saw was Lucifer's face, gaining a smile as he took a sip of his tea. His face...it was like he...didn't care at all. "You're just a dumb human" Were his last words, until your vision faded to black.

Your eyes flung open, finding Lucifer right in front of you, holding you close. "Y/n! Dear, is everything alright?" You flinched at the sound of his voice, and quickly shuddered away from his touch. He looked at you in confusion, trying to understand why you did that, but then it hit him. "You must've had a nightmare.. I saw you shuffling and flinging yourself a lot from my desk." You didn't respond. But you did stopped shaking. "Do you wanna talk about it?" He tapped the spot on his lap, gesturing you to sit, but you do not move. You're frozen in fear from what you've saw in your dream.. Lucifer, Cerberus... It was all so suffocating.. all because you were a human... Is this how Lucifer really views me? You take a look at Lucifer's face the second time, he's showing you a kind smile, wearing a soft look on his face. It's different from the one he gave you in the dream.. no. Lucifer wouldn't do that. And neither would Cerberus.. you softly smiled, as you finally went over on Lucifer's lap, laying on him, while talking about your nightmare.

Lucifer's gonna reassure you that he wouldn't even dream of doing that, and also says that Cerberus likes you. He wouldn't eat you :)

He's gonna pet your hair the whole time you're talking about your nightmare. (He has his neutral face on while you talk.)

Will take you to see Cerberus, to reassure you further. He doesn't want his partner to feel terrified of him! (Cerberus cuddles you the moment he sees you.)

Mammon:

Mammon's NOT a light sleeper. That's for sure, but that's a lil different when you two start sharing a bed.

Look, how can he be in a deep sleep when he has the most charming, beautiful, and overall great person (aka. You.) next to him?

He's spooning you most of the time, or you're spooning him. There's just no in-between. He's touch starved. 💀

He sometimes let's out snores while sleeping. (Just nudge him a little and he'll stop.)

Your breath hitched in your throat when you saw Mammon, your lover, rev up a chainsaw. You had tears in your eyes, as you couldn't believe that you'd fallen for a lie. Everything he ever said or done was fake.. You never felt this betrayed in your whole life... So much for being your most loyal demon of the pacts.. "Ma-Mammon..? Why??" You had the need to ask him this particular question as you moved away from the chainsaw.

His face wasn't seen. Only one big shadow covering it..you didn't even see his mouth. . . But you did heard him cackle at your words. "Why? What a stupid question. And my brothers say I'M the stupid one." Finally, his chainsaw made a contact with your arm, as you screamed. "You see-" he continued, while slowly cutting off your left arm. You yelled in pain.. you didn't know what hurt you more, the pain of feeling your body parts being cut off, or the betrayal that happened right in front of your eyes... "-You're......" You couldn't take it anymore as he was still cutting off your left arm, painfully slow. "-Just a useless human. I could probably sell your organs on the black market for a really good price." He finally finished cutting off your arm, as he moved onto your other arm.

But you decided to make a run for it, in hopes of running away, but it seems like Mammon's reflexes were too sharp, as he flung his chainsaw right at your legs, effectively cutting them, making you fall on the cold hard floor... Everything suddenly went blank..

You yelled, sitting up from your bed, making Mammon sit up as well. "Y/n! What happened?!" He looked at you in concern when he saw the terrified look you were wearing. He looked into your shakey eyes, lacking any spark of happiness... He frowned, taking your hand in his. You flinched at this, but relaxed once you heard these words coming out from him. "Y/n... Whatever it was, it's ok. Must've been a bad dream huh? It's ok.. you're fine, you're at home, laying in your bed next to your GREAT boyfriend!" You couldn't help but chuckle at his last words, slowly engulfing him in a hug. Yes... that's right, Mammon would never do that to you..

He might've acted strong, for your own good, but he started crying after he heard your nightmare. He can't believe his own ears. Chopping down your body parts? Acting like a backstabber?! He states, that it doesn't sound anything like him.

Cuddles you till morning 🥺

Leviathan:

You tried to sleep in the bathtub with him, but it was too uncomfortable. :(

He was so sad, he was really looking forward to it when you both finally decided to share the same bed. (Definitely imagined a scene from an anime similar to this)

It took some convincing from his side, until he decided to have a normal bed, just so you two can cuddle. (You just KNOW he fell deeply in love with you.)

He kinda regrets it, since he misses his bathtub, but after hearing your squeal and wide smile, jumping up and down, he wouldn't change his decision.

Your eyes widened when you felt cold water all around your skin. This was so unbelievably cold... You decided to take a swim in a lake with your boyfriend, Leviathan, but he wasn't with you right now.. which was odd, since you were sure he followed you all the way here.

Looking cautiously around you, you notice that the atmosphere completely changed..it felt surreal. Creepy. You slightly shuddered, until now coming up with the realization that you were in the middle of the green lake... The cold started being unbearable, so you decided to turn back around, only for you to feel something slimy wrapping around your leg. You jumped up, when your other leg was caged too. You felt trapped, your breath quickening as you frantically try getting out of whatever had your legs..

It's not until you're pulled underwater that you scream. You're being pulled more down, the sky completely disappearing from your sight as you look down. Surprisingly, you're met with your boyfriend. He has this evil smile, with a lovesick look adoring it. You felt immense fear, as you were pulled all the way down to him. He sighed, holding you close..

"Now no one can steal you from my grasp.."

You sit up abruptly with a gasp. Leviathan turning away from his phone, also sitting up next to you from his laying position. Your breathing is uneven, your whole body shaking. You drowned..

Leviathan's voice stirrs you from your shock, as he laids a hand on your back, making you yelp. He jumps at your sudden yelp, as he looks at you in concern. "Hey, goofball... I-Is something wrong..?" You could only stare in fear, looking into his eyes. His gaze wasn't the same as how he looked at you in your dream earlier... It was filled with love and passion, not obsession and derangement... You finally snapped out of your shock, blinking a few times until describing Levi your nightmare. Safe to say he was devasted that you saw him like that.. he would've never do that to you! He's your sweet little introvert boy. This little realization made you absolutely at ease. Yeah.. that's right. He's your little snake..

Levi was so sad hearing you talk about your nightmare. :(

He doesn't want you to think of him like that, If it was a nightmare, it was probably provoked somehow.

He wants to know every detail that made you scared so he knows to never do that EVER. (Even as a friendly joke/banter.)

He's such a sweetie..

Satan:

Satan definitely likes to have you sleeping on him. It helps him relax, and it also calms him down.

He often runs his hand over your hair, petting you.

You and Satan read books before going to sleep, so it's pretty common for you to have a dream about the story that you heard before going to sleep.

The books in particular were never really gruesome or scary, because Satan wants you to hear a more lighthearted story before bed. But this time...this time you wanted to try something new... Oh how much you wish you didn't..

You couldn't feel any of your muscles.. and you also didn't had the energy to move anymore, you even gave up fighting it. Satan was in front of you, with a book titled 'Medieval Torture'. He tied you up while you were sleeping, and is now using every technique in the book on you.

The book had a total of 1000 pages.. and he was only on page 14.. you truly don't think you can survive this, but the most terrifying part of it all? Satan knows you can't survive this, yet he's still going.. you have no idea if that's because he's too engrossed in the book and it's techniques, that he doesn't pay your health any mind, or... He just simply doesn't care. Which seems really cruel and heartbreaking to you.

You cry out another scream as he finished yet another painful torture.. page 17. You just can't take it anymore..the look in his eyes that seem distant, the silence as only your screams are heard, no one coming up to help you.. you started to tear up, which takes his attention to you.. "P-Please..Sa-Satan..." Your heart breaks as he chuckles, hearing your pleas. "You're nothing but a lousy human."

You wake up with tears swelling up Satan's shirt, you freeze upon noticing that you're laying on top of him. You couldn't even get a word in, as Satan's voice rings out from underneath you. "Shh...Y/n, I'm here , I'm here... It's ok.. you had a nightmare, I assume? I knew I shouldn't read you that book.." his hand keeps rubbing soft circles on your back, which makes you relaxed almost immediately. The nightmare version of Satan is completely disregarded, as you look up at Satan's soft gaze. You softly smiled, getting your breathing in check.

Satan couldn't believe his ears when you told him about your dream.. he immediately knew that this wasn't just a nightmare. It seems too far fetched.

He has to do something about this, so you'll never have a nightmare that has him acting like this.. but being the avatar of wrath...that seems almost impossible. Since he easily lashes out at people.. but he'll try for you.

He would do anything for you.

Asmodeus:

Asmodeus and you have the most comfortable sleep! His sheets are very comfortable and fluffy, as well as his pillows.

He likely sleeps with you and him holding hands, or you spooning him / him spooning you.

You both wear matching sleeping masks! (They're so cute too!)

Soft tears ran down your cheeks as Asmodeus stood in front of you, verbally berating you... "Ugh. I can't believe that someone as gorgeous as me, used to date someone as ugly as you!" You flinched when he glared at you, showing off his demon form. You didn't know what to expect when he held you up by your hair. You screamed at the pain of feeling your hair pulled out. He suddenly reached for a pair of scissors, which were laying on a nearby table, he cut off your hair, making you fall back on your knees. You whimpered and shook.

"I think I know how to fix this hideous face." He suddenly showed off his long nails that only got longer, and sharper. You gasped at the sight. Was he gonna use these to... "Come here.." you screamed as he tore his nails in your thigh when you tried to escape. He tore your legs up, pulling out any skin that was showing, your muscles being the only thing on display on your legs. You were screaming in pain the whole time, until it abruptly stopped when he aimed for your head next. "I'm gonna make you shut up for forever." His nails tore through your skull, making you go numb in his arms..or were you already dead?

You breathed heavily, sitting up and taking your sleeping mask off of you. You start to visibly shake, your eyes full with tears. "Darling?" You hear the voice of Asmodeus, as he also lifts up his mask and sits up. You shake in fear. Still remembering how angry he looked in your dream... "..hey, you're ok. You're with me honey! No need to worry your pretty little head." He holds your cheeks in his hands, smiling down at you. After a bit of staring, you started to slowly return the smile, finally coming to your senses. Yes..this was your Asmo..

He was so disgusted by his nightmare version. How could he be so cruel towards his gem?! The audacity!

He gives you a whole skincare routine while you're telling him about your dream, listening very intently.

He feels slightly angsty that you probably see him like that deep down, but he keeps on reassuring you. He just doesn't want you to think about him like that!

Beelzebub:

Beel hugs you in a bear hug in his sleep

I swear, he has that soft snoring.

Beel sometimes drifts off to the kitchen to eat. Not before giving you a kiss though. 🥰

Hot tears ran down your cheek as you flung around, in attempt to escape Beel's grasp. But he held you pretty tight, to the point where you felt like passing out. "B-Beel?" Your boyfriend only glared at you, and threw you on the ground. You couldn't even get a scream out, as you only saw his shadow from your view on the floor.

"Hungry.." he looked to be in a daze, as his eyes shadowed in what you assumed to be hunger. You don't know how you even got in this situation.. and you certainly don't know how to get out. You whimpered when he roughly pulled your hand up to his face, and sniffed it. You shuddered, trying to pull your hand away from his face. He grunted in result, probably getting annoyed, which ultimately... Made you more frightened. He suddenly sank his teeth in your hand, pulling it apart. You screamed in agony, you were being eaten alive... By your boyfriend. You could never ever imagine yourself in this situation before...

You stirred awake, wide-eyed. It felt so real... You couldn't help your tears that travelled down on your pillow, and stiffened when you felt a pair of hands hugging your form. "Cupcake...? Is something wrong?" You immediately relaxed upon hearing Beel's voice.. somehow, even though you had a nightmare about him, you felt safe within his presence. You turned around and hugged him tightly. "I had a nightmare.."

He listened to every word you spoke to him. Feeling his heart break with each word.

He felt absolutely disgusted by his nightmare self. He does have a big appetite, but he would NEVER resulted in eating you alive. Goodness no!

He will be more affectionate with you from now on, trying to prove himself as loyal.

Belphegor:

Belphegor Is the one that's always not letting you out of the bed. He doesn't want you to leave yet. Just a few more minutes, yeah?

Belphie sometimes visits you in your dream, since he's the avatar of sloth. (HC! I have no idea if Belphie can look into people's dream in canon, but I think that it's a fun head canon :D)

Belphie avoids touching your neck, because he still feels guilty about suffocating you to death.

You sleep while hugging the other close. :)

You can't believe that this is happening again. Belphegor, your boyfriend, is choking you to death, again. But this time... It's different. Your eyes and mouth are glued shut. You can't see shit. "Pathetic human. I can't believe that it was this easy to fool you into trusting me. Again." Belphie laughed maniacally as his hands held your neck in a tight grip. You can't talk, see, nothing. This is utterly hopeless.. the past memories of this exact moment start replaying in your head as you shake in his hold.

"Wow, I can't believe you're this pathetic..." Belphegor spoke again, presumably to you, but it didn't sound like it was coming from him. Everything suddenly went quiet, your body falling on the floor. You got surprised when your eyes and mouth got unglued and you could see, and speak again. "H-Huh?" You got picked up from the floor, as another person hugged you close. You looked up to be met with Belphie, your Belphie. Your eyes widened, he looked really different then before as he kept hugging you close. "...I'm really sorry that you had to witness me like that again..." You didn't understand anything. What is happening? "I-I don't understand..?" Belphegor chuckled at your words, pulling away from you to look into your eyes. "You had a nightmare dummy. About me..." You frowned when you heard this. You weren't even scared of him right now, despite this awful dream. His presence is calming..

You nuzzled into his chest and cried. "H-Hey.. it's ok. I'm here...shh.." he wrapped his hands around your form and petted your head.

Belphie's worst nightmare became true. You had a nightmare about him. About that night... He hates himself for that mistake he once did, and he doesn't wanna lose your trust again.

But he doesn't blame you. It probably was a really traumatizing experience for you..

He'll make it up to you. Actually, after you both wake up, he will get up. Just so he could get you something..

A/N: you can tell when I was starting to get lazy. 💀

[multi-fxndom446]

Wherever you go

Gojo Satoru X Reader

Warning: Gojo may be a little ooc but I really don’t think that much, reincarnation, everyone’s alive. Best friend Tsumiki. Sukunas a professor, so is Nanami. Gojo and geto are students too.

Summary: After having the same nightmare almost every night everything comes to a head when you are met with his blue eyes and a whole life time of memories

Word count: 2.7k

Please don’t look to hard at particulars I wrote this immediately when I had the idea. Tsumiki and Megumi are still related.

I just woke up from a dream where you and I had to say goodbye and I don’t know what it all means.

The day started out like any normal day.

You woke up from the same nightmare, got dressed, did your regular morning routine then went outside to meet your friend, Tsumiki in the same spot you do every morning.

You passed by the same people every morning, most of them the owners of the small shops on the street. You said good morning as usual.

You went to the same cafe as you always did when you and tsumiki needed to work on an assignment, you usually picked the same seat every time but today there was already someone in your seat.

But other than that one hiccup, by all accounts this was just like any other day.

So why did you feel like your nerves were on end. Like you were missing something or like today was some important day.

You stopped in your tracks when you registered someone had taken your usual spot, your eyes staring holes into the back of the guys head. It wasn’t even like you were upset, you couldn’t claim a public table but something about him felt familiar.

His long dark hair tied up in a bun while he drank his drink seemingly waiting on another to join him if the drink waiting on the other side of the table was anything to go by.

“Hey come on, I see a table over there.” Your attention was brought back to Tsumiki who was tugging on your wrist and pointing to a table in the corner.

You could tell she was rushing you to the table since the cafe was starting to fill up so you let her drag you over and when you sat down your original table, along with the familiar man, was out of sight and you felt like you could breathe a sigh of relief.

But still you were on the edge of your seat. You were slow to pull out your laptop and by the time you did Tsumiki had already had hers open and was typing away.

It wasn’t until you set your laptop on the table and opened it did she sense that something was off with you. She watched you for a moment and you could feel her staring at you intensely so you put your hands on the keys acting as if you were about to type.

But your mind was blank and your fingers wouldn’t move. You glanced at her for a split second before looking away when you saw her leaning forward with a raised eyebrow.

“Are you okay?” She had finally asked after a few moments of you just staring at your computer that wasn’t even turned on. You just nodded slowly like you were also trying to convince yourself you were fine. “Y/n seriously what’s up? You look exhausted.” There was a moment of silence before she reached across the table to place her hand on your arm. “Did you have that nightmare again?”

The nightmare.

The same one you’d been having every night for the last year.

It started out simple enough, you could honestly barely tell what was happening and you completely forgot about it by morning like any other dream.

But over time it had gotten worse and worse. It became clearer to you every night until it reached the point of feeling like it was a distant memory.

It was almost as if you could see it happening like it was just yesterday. Like you were dying in the arms of someone just a moment ago. You could almost feel their warmth wrapped around you as they held on.

You could almost hear the trembling of their voice even though when you had this nightmare you could never hear a sound. You couldn’t hear the words being spoken to you or even see the face of the person who shook while they held you close.

Your gaze must’ve gone hazy as you recalled the nightmare because in the next moment you felt her hand shaking your arm slightly with a worried whisper of your name.

You looked up at her again and put on the best smile you could, waving her off with a slight laugh.

“No no, just this project is gonna run me into the ground.” Which wasn’t entirely a lie. The professor was known to be harsh in his grading and you more often than not stayed up late working on his assignments.

“Professor Sukuna?” You nodded and she gave you a grimace before leaning back into her chair, retracting her hand. You were glad she seemed to believe your lie. “I’m so glad I didn’t get him. Not like Professor Nanami is any better.”

You laughed when she let out a dejected sigh. “At least he gives you a little breathing room. Professor Sukuna has been non-stop assignments and projects.” You finally turned on your computer ready to move past the weird morning.

Just as you were about to start typing Tsumikis phone started vibrating with an incoming call. “Oh I gotta take this it’s Megumi. I’ll be back.” You nodded with a smile and told her to tell him you said hello.

Left alone, you finally started on your assignment and let everything else fall to the background. You needed a good grade on this, if you got one more bad grade in Professor Sukunas class…you shuddered just thinking about the malicious glare you had received more than you’d like to admit.

Just as you went to type something your hand stopped. A chill ran up your spine, an oddly familiar sensation like someone running their fingers lightly down your back.

You felt like your heart all of a sudden dropped or sped up to an ungodly speed that you felt like it was about to give out.

You realized belatedly that your hands were shaking. Out of the corner of your eye you saw someone outside the window walking by you. You saw the flash of white hair but it was enough to make you stop breathing.

You didn’t turn your head, you didn’t want to. You were scared all of a sudden. You felt your heart squeeze painfully in your chest at the lack of oxygen.

A whisper of pain slid up your side and the familiarity of the feeling had you wanting to curl in a ball and cry and you didn’t know why.

You felt like you might pass out and you probably would’ve had Tsumiki not come back with a smile on her face, unaware of your current state.

“Sorry Megumi was asking me about-“ her question cut short and finally your body started moving again. Your eyes looked over to her in question, wondering why she stopped talking. “Y/n..what happened? Why are you crying?”

What?

Your hand that was previously stuck over your keyboard shaking, reached up to run a delicate finger across your cheek.

You pulled your hand away to see your friend was right. You were crying.

You went to open your mouth to reply, to tell her you were fine- that you didn’t know why you were crying when a voice across the cafe stopped you dead in your tracks.

“Suguru!” An eerily familiar voice sung out and the words you were about to say stuck in your throat and it genuinely felt like this time you couldn’t breathe.

“Satoru.” Another voice sighed and this time you felt the tears fall down your cheeks and watched as they clouded your vision. “You’re late.”

You couldn’t register anymore of the conversation. There was a ringing in your ears and your head felt like it was going to explode.

In front of you, you could see tsumikis mouth moving in what looked like her calling your name but you couldn’t hear and you couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t breathe.

Tsumiki grabbed onto your arm again and forced you to look at her. She said your name again and this time you could faintly hear it. She motioned for you to take a deep breathe and you did and followed when she motioned to breathe out.

She stayed like that for a few more moments until she could see you came back to her. “What just happened?” She asked, rubbing your arm soothingly.

“I-I don’t know.” You wiped at your eyes. “I feel like there’s something I should remember but can’t.”

She looked between you and your computer before shutting it closed and doing the same to hers. You looked at her in confusion when she started packing up. “Let’s go somewhere. Our projects aren’t due yet, let’s get out of here.”

You watched her as she stood and she turned to you expectantly so you followed suit and packed up your things.

She grabbed your hand as she dragged you to the front of the cafe towards the door. You couldn’t help but laugh softly, thankful she was there.

Just as you got to the front door dead silence seemed to fill the cafe and you stopped in your tracks.

You looked to your usual table where the man with the bun was sitting waiting for his friend. Now though the friend was there, staring at you.

His bright blue eyes widened in shock and the sunglasses he had in his grasp fell to the table with a clatter. There was no one else in the cafe in that moment.

His mouth opened like he was about to say something but all at once everything came crashing down on you.

His eyes.

You can almost recall seeing his eyes somewhere…everywhere.

Your mind felt like it was splitting open as thoughts-as memories filled your head the longer you stared at him.

Nothing to clear but enough for you to be sure you know him or you should know him somehow. Like you knew him in some other lifetime.

Some other lifetime…

Your mind whispered back his name to you, Satoru. It came so softly as if you had heard it a thousand times and associated it with some kind of warm feeling.

As if you’ve stared into those blue eyes so many times you’ve lost count.

Tsumiki tugged you out the door before you could think anymore and by the time you were just down the street turning the corner you saw him run out of the cafe, looking both ways frantically.

But your voice wouldn’t let you call out to him so you let your friend pull you away from him.

~

It wouldn’t be until weeks later that you would see him again. It wasn’t like you had been avoiding trying to find him but he never seemed to be at the cafe the same time as you.

And with you finishing your project for Professor Sukuna your visits to the cafe became less frequent

The memory of him was always on your mind as well as some underlying feeling that you couldn’t seem to reach. Like something was on the tip of your tongue but it was gone from your mind when you thought too hard about it.

So you stopped thinking too hard and just let his memory sit there while you went on with your life.

Today though was different. Today you did go to the cafe and this time alone. Tsumiki was out with her brother getting him ready for a school trip.

You were sat at your usual table that was vacant this time around. The whole cafe seemed to be vacant today with only you and one other older lady sitting at the far end.

You were just finishing up some homework you had for another class, your laptop open and a pen and paper next to you as you jotted down notes.

The bell above the front door chimed but you paid it no mind, you were too focused on the notes to care who came in.

But then the chair in front of you scraped along the floor as someone pulled it out and sat down. Your hand froze mid sentence and your gaze stayed down as if scared to see who was in front of you, even though deep down you knew..

“Do you know how long I’ve been looking for you?” Finally you glanced up and were met with bright blue eyes. Your breathe hitched as those prodding memories from before started to slip back into focus.

It felt like your brain had been dunked into ice water and pulled every memory into the forefront of your mind. Like you finally broke the barrier that held all of these old feelings from you.

You can see a memory, although blurry it was there. His face was slightly blurred but you’d never mistake those beautiful eyes and the striking white hair.

You could barely hear him talk, the words sounding too far away but you understood enough to know he was trying to convince you to stay where you were.

“Wherever you go, that's where I’ll follow.” You could hear yourself telling him. The phrase alone causing another pang of hurt to course through you.

He’d told you those words before when you were teenagers and you were about to go on a mission alone.

He’d never let you go alone and in turn you never let him go alone.

As more memories came to light the clearer they became. You could see the look on his face like he knew he wasn’t going to come out alive and he didn’t want to take you down with him.

You could almost feel the trace of his fingers down your jaw as he gazed at you almost like it was the last time.

You could see in your mind's eye now why your side hurt so much. It was because Sukuna had driven a hole through your side.

Sukuna

You could feel Satorus warmth wrap around you instantly. And finally finally you could see your nightmare clearly, you could finally see the person who was holding you while you died.

You could see the person who was trembling, you could feel as his tears fell onto your cheek, you could taste the metallic taste of your own blood and you could finally hear the words he spoke to you.

“This is why I told you not to come.” His voice trembled and you can almost feel yourself frown, not used to hearing him be so vulnerable. “I can’t lose you too. Please not you.”

You remember your bloodied hand coming up to caress his cheek. You didn’t respond, you couldn’t even if you wanted to. You just smiled at him and hoped your eyes conveyed all the love you held for him.

Then your eyes closed and you could feel his head drop down to your neck where he let a few quiet sobs go before he took a deep breathe and whispered against your skin. “Wherever you go, that's where I’ll follow. I promise.” Then he squeezed you tightly one more time then layed your body down.

He gave your forehead one last kiss before he went to fight knowing full and well he would be joining you in death soon enough.

So many memories. So many moments.

You watched as hundreds of shared kisses flitted through your mind. Thousands of hugs and gentle caresses.

You were never a firm believer on reincarnation but you know these memories you’ve lived these memories and there’s no denying that.

His touch brought you back, his cold hand softly cradling your cheek so he could wipe away the tears. He had a pained look in his eyes like he had waited for this moment for so long.

“Satoru-“

“Seven lifetimes.” He let out a small huff at the confusion that crossed your face. “That’s how long I’ve been trying to find you.”

“You-“ your words choked. He had waited for so long. Did he have these memories the whole time? Or was he like you and only had nightmares of when you were separated? “I’m sorry.”

He was quick to get to his feet and pull you into his arms while you cried. More and more memories came in slowly and it finally felt like you had found a missing puzzle piece to a forgotten puzzle.

“I promised I’d follow.” You nodded against his chest.

“Thank you.”

His arms wrapped tighter around you. You had a million questions but for now just being in his arms safe and sound again was all you needed.

~

Hope yall like it

[i984]

Sweet Words Make a Lovely Shade | Part 1

|Pairing|: Wednesday Addams x gender neutral reader.

|Warnings|: Ooc! Wednesday Addams, mentions of gore, Wednesday being uncharacteristically tame, reader likes to test boundaries, Wednesday gives bone-breaking hugs, no beta; we die like my brain cells.

|Summary|: You test your luck by putting Wednesday Addams in a compliment jail. 

|Word count|: 2.7k words

|A/n|: I ended up not changing a thing. I took some liberty with your request 💡anon, hope you still enjoy it! | Part 2 is available in my masterlist.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Love  

It does wonders for a person. 

And for you? Well, it makes you spew the utmost revolting, foolish, and absurd things out of your mouth—Wednesday's words, not yours. You think it's her way of saying she likes the compliments you practically shower her with. 

At first, you didn't even realize you were doing it. You could be sitting next to the raven-haired girl in class, having some lunch together, reading books in the library, or on your occasional walks around town, and you only have one single recurring thought that you can't seem to get out of your mind; 

Wednesday Addams—your precious sadistic little girlfriend—is so pretty.  

And not to be shallow or anything; after all, you like her for many different things. Her intelligence, wittiness, and her I-don't-give-a-fuck attitude. Her obsession with everything macabre, the monochromic-colored outfits that perfectly suit her, and the way she uses words you can't even begin to comprehend half the time. 

But then there's the way her hair has that lustrous glow, and then the rare grin she cracks when it's just the two of you, the constant little pout in her lips, and don't even start about her plump dark burgundy lips; Oh, you wanna kiss her-  

"-so bad," you mumbled out absent-mindedly, and Wednesday slowly looked up from her double cap—mouth gaping slightly at the suddenness of your words—her eyes blinking rapidly at you.  

"Oh- no no no I was just thinking and I got distracted because your lips look SO pretty!" Your voice was louder than you had intended for it to be, and you quickly covered your mouth—a pointless act as the slip-up had already been done. 

Wednesday only spared you a sharp glare before standing up from your shared sofa booth, already heading towards the Cafe entrance. Before you can even explain yourself, she had already bolted out, leaving you and her double cap behind. 

You know that Wednesday is not big on PDAs; soft kisses and gentle touches are reserved for private quarters. And even then, you can tell that her moves are calculated—afraid of doing too much that she'd find herself in a compromising position. 

But you didn't miss the darkening of her freckle-painted cheeks as she snuck a peek at your figure from outside Weathervane, and that's when you realized; 

Oh.  

Well, this is gonna be fun. 

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You walk to your dorm room with a dopey grin on your face, recounting the things that happened earlier.  

You've figured it all out. Wednesday might act like she isn't affected by other people's words and opinions about her—and in most cases, this is true—except when it comes from you.  

She caught you wearing a hoodie of hers? Now you have three more in your closet. You respond a beat late to some disputable thing she mentions? She immediately apologized for being insensitive and asked your take on the subject. You told her that she looked good in that checkered sweater? Now she wears the piece of garment all the time. Ask her to binge-watch all 10 seasons of My Little Pony with you? It would give her nightmares for weeks, yes, but absolutely.  

You quickly realize that you're one of the few people lucky enough to have Wednesday tolerate you to a certain degree. So you do the obvious—run after Wednesday after leaving some money on the table, and then shout at the top of your lungs, "I LIKE YOUR LIPS WEDNESDAY ADDAMS"  

You swear to God, you've never seen someone bolt out of your view so quickly. She didn't even spare a single disapproving glance at you—on normal occasions she would—but now, as people stop in their tracks to see who your words are pointed to, she's gone, nowhere to be seen.  

It's cute, how much she's affected by your words. And that's why, as you open your dorm room door, you walk straight to your thinking desk past a figure, planning to come up with new ways to fluster your girlfriend. 

Wait. Past a figure? 

You turn your head to see Wednesday Addams standing still, looking daggers at you, and you know things are about to go down.  

You smile coyly at her while taking a seat. The raven-haired girl's gaze trails your every movement. She looks almost predatory in this state. Like she's about to tear you apart to shreds. 

You hold your head high as you speak, "Is something wrong, Wens?" A pet name. You've heard Wednesday made it clear time and time again to Enid that she was against pet names. And you've never called her one before. But you're willing to gamble your life this time just to see how far she would tolerate you. 

So you maintain your perfect facade, and it was all worth it as you see Wednesday's eyes widen at the morbidity of your words—the good kind, you'd assume—and you saw her mouth open and close a couple of times, trying to say something deprecating and failing acutely.  

She stands awkwardly like that for a moment; her hands making little gestures as if she was trying to make a point while maintaining her look of utter disbelief at your behavior. 

You figured if you didn't egg on her a little more, she wouldn't let her guard down, so you decided to turn your back on her and pulled out a book to read. 

"What are you doing?" You can hear the stress in her words. You can picture her look right now; her jaw clenched, teeth gritted, brows furrowed in dismay. 

"I'm reading a book, as you can see with those pretty brown eyes of yours." You flipped a few pages, eyes tracing along the shape of letters and words, not really paying any mind to the actual content. 

"All right then," exasperation is evident in her voice, and you have to fight yourself from snickering at the situation. 

You've always been very careful around Wednesday, trying not to agitate her into giving you snarky comments—she still gives them nonetheless, and you find it amusing as time goes by—but curiously, she's not giving you any at the moment. And if you are to guess, it's probably because she physically can't bash you for your words. Not when she's fighting for her life with feelings she refuses to acknowledge most of the time. 

You hear her footsteps grow distant—she's heading for the door, you figured—and you don't even bother to look up as you say, "Come back soon, tesoro,"  

The sound of footsteps ceased. 

"Are you really going to keep doing this?" You can tell by Wednesday's voice that she is trying so hard not to burst at your display—you were never like this after all—from rage or the compliments, you don't know. But you figure you'll find out if you pick the right words. 

"Keep doing what, Wens?" You spin in your chair to her, your voice dripping with honey, with faux innocence. You can see her face turn colors into one of carnation, her lips thinning into a line as she tears her gaze apart from you. 

"You. Know. What." Wednesday strains every word, her tone is low as if to intimidate you, but you know the ball is in your court. 

"What? Telling you how pretty your lips are? In front of a lot of people? 

"Yes, exactly-" 

"And that I wanna kiss those lips of yours so badly? Dark plump lips like yours are my favorite, by the way," you look at her in the eyes as you speak, and you let your gaze trail down her face, and Wednesday fidgets with the hem of her top. 

"Oh wait, actually, you are my favorite." 

Wednesday glares at you—an act that usually works with Enid and everyone else when she wants to avoid certain conversations—but you are unfazed. You have her exactly where you want right now, and judging by the absence of a knife in her hand, you're going to assume that she's more than okay with what you're doing.  

"But wait. Oh. Is this about the fact that I know you blushed so hard when I complimented you? Every single time, did you notice that?" You stood up from your seat, throwing the book atop your desk.  

"I know you like it, Wens," you smirked, the nickname easily sliding out your tongue the more you said it, "I know you like me."  

"Oh, you are so full of yourself-" 

"You know what else I like? The way your pout grows bigger—as we're speaking right now, yes," and you see her face growing a scowl as you take a step closer towards her, "and now you're clenching your jaw slightly, god, you look so cute doing that."  

"I do not look cute, and if you cut my words off-" 

"Do you know that your micro facial expressions are probably the most adorable thing I ever get to witness?" 

"-again, I will cut your tongue and force-feed it to you."  

You ignore your girlfriend's words, continuing the torture you've devised for her. "No, not probably. Definitely the most adorable thing ever."  

A broad grin sprouted on your face, the one Wednesday always calls 'the idiotic grin' but you know she secretly likes it, and you can't be happier right now. You're experiencing a power trip; adrenaline rushing through you to continue your teasing despite the possibility of being mute in the future. 

"And that? Right there. Just now. The way you just announce dangerous threats? And sometimes about people's demise? Now, that is attractive."  

Wednesday decided that she's had enough of your antics. Her hand reaches for the doorknob, and you trail after her out of your dormitory. 

"Do not follow me," Wednesday hushed, and you walk beside her trying to catch up as she seems to speed up her pace.  

"I'm not following you, we just happen to be walking in the same direction- Oh, hi Bianca!" You see the girl waving back at you as you both walk through the quad; Wednesday did not acknowledge Bianca's presence as usual. 

"Oh yeah, that reminds me. Remember when you totally beat the shit out of Bianca in that oral test last week? That is also incredibly attractive."  

Wednesday seemed to pay no mind as you continued your horrible strings of compliments, except for the fact that she's practically running through the corridors right now, embarrassed of being caught blushing by any of her peers. 

You know that at this point, you're threading a thin line between her turning into putty at your words or her leading you to a grave site, ready to smash your head with a rock once you get there. 

Well, she's heading towards Ophelia Hall now, so it's safe to say you won't be visiting the realms of the dead today. 

"It would be wise for you to quit whatever skulduggery you're doing if you don't want me to slice your head off at fencing class-," 

You raise your hand in mock defeat at her words, and you can see Wednesday's knuckles turn white in a fist as she continued her words, "-which will start in a couple of hours. So, leave me-" 

"Oh yeah, that got me thinking of how good you look when fencing. I mean, there's a reason why I never ever spar with you during class."  

"Yes, and it is your remarkable ineptitude in the sport." 

You shoot her a look of false hurt at her words, "How dare you- Well. I mean yes, but also have you seen yourself?" You speak out of breath, your legs slowly catching up with Wednesday's pace.  

"Yes, of course. I've been staring at a mirror in the middle of my sparring," Wednesday rolls her eyes at you, "and that's why I've been on a losing-" at this, you can see Wednesday practically seethe in anger as she chokes the word out, "-streak against Bianca Barclay."  

"No, silly, it's because I would be in complete awe," you decided not to comment further on the sore issue, opting to clear out the tension with—yes you guessed it—more compliments.  

"I mean, the all-black outfit? Your menacing strikes and your calculated steps, not to mention your disheveled hair and the concentrated look on your face?" You clasp your hand in front of your chest, eyes looking up dreamily at the memory, while the girl beside you scoffed in irritation. 

You're now at Ophelia Hall, and Wednesday continues her brisk walk toward her shared dorm room. You don't have much time left if you want to break her composed demeanor. 

"And yes, if I sparred with you, the exact situation you mentioned earlier would've happened. My head sliced off the very first second into the spar." 

"And I'd assume you wouldn't want that. So don't make me do it." 

"Quite the contrary, I wouldn't mind. I bet dying by such skillful hands would be an amazing experience." 

You can see the door now. Wednesday knows this as well. If she gets inside and locks you out, maybe you'll shut up and spare her from the torture that makes her gut feel like it's ripping her apart from the inside. 

"What do you think of adding my head as a mount on your room's wall? I'm sure Thing would appreciate the addition of another dismembered body part in the room." 

If Wednesday wasn't agitated before, she definitely is now. As she opens the door to her dorm room and turns her body to you, you can see that not only are her cheeks of blossoming color, the tips of her nose and ears are as well! It's as if this is the first time blood has rushed to her face, and you'd argue that she looks dangerously magnificent like this; face sneering but eyes unable to maintain eye contact with you. 

She spared you only a short pointed glare, before closing the door to your face. You can hear her voice ring moments later, "Stop pestering me on my writing time or I will take you up on that offer. If you decide to omit my warning, make sure you say something adequate, as I will personally make sure it will be written on your gravestone as your last words."  

Her threats have never felt so empty, not with her obviously shaky voice—not when you know she's staring at her typing paper blankly right now, unable to type a single word as you can't hear any clacking sound of the machine's keys. 

The gears in your mind turn at an insane speed, and with the bravado only you possess, you belt your next words for the whole dormitory to hear,  

"I AM CRAZY FOR YOU, WEDNESDAY ADDAMS!" 

There was only silence. Then, you hear the rapid clickety-clack of your girlfriend's shoes, and you jump backward when Wednesday yanked the door open. 

This is it, you thought.  

You had been too cocky, thinking that you could get away with harassing the raven-haired girl—if compliments can be considered harassment, that is—and now you're going to pay the price. In the most gruesome way imaginable, if you know anything about your girlfriend. 

Wednesday storms at you, and before you can even try to escape, you feel her arms wrapped strongly around your figure in a death grip. She's about to tackle you to death, and you brace yourself for the upcoming impact- 

-that never comes? Her arms just stay there, her head buried against your chest, and you are at a loss for words. 

It's unfair, how easily she makes you feel flustered. You've been trying to get a reaction out of her all this time, and she barely cracks. But now as she hugs you, you practically melt into her embrace; your mischievous agenda is long forgotten. 

When you regain your senses, you take a breath— about to comment on the situation before she cuts you off with a; 

"Shut up. I hate you."  

You smirk at her words before sighing in contentment, eyes closing as you soak in the rare moment, "I love you too." 

"But I will never shut up about this- OW-" 

Wednesday left you rolling on the floor in pain after landing a punch in your guts. 

"Now, you will."

[batsvnte]

𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞. 𝐃𝐚𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐧𝐠

Changing courses of time cause baby, you are perfect - Mr Floyd Larry

(▰˘◡˘▰) ❥ comfort , established relationship ^ gn!reader | you’re the only person who he can truly find solace in - ooc maybe, incorrect grammar, spelling mistakes, not proofread, bits of headcannons if you squint

Xenos’s notes. art belongs to mulihaohao on twt

Those silent moments when he goes to sleep is one’s where he used to dread the jarring nightmares that haunt him. Ones that were reminisced of the past memories filled with pain and suffering and ones that were the haunting voices that echoes in his mind. Ones that he wished he could lock away forever until the next life that he can experience.

Sometimes they would replay in the back of his mind at any given moment. He usually would forget about them but once alone in the archives, Dan Heng would be reminded of them. The face of the man that always finds him. He could hide within a planet that was off the charts, and the red spider lilly will always bloom in the darkest part of the world. At times he would see the face of the woman who uses the moonlight as a veil. To hide how her past was nothing but a tragic story. Yet her red eyes were a void of madness ready to overtake her mind and bring her to the point of no return.

He can never run from those memories of his past.

Waking up alone in the dark room that he wishes that the nightmares will go away. He only remains awake for a few hours of the ‘night’. Both mind and body was tired. Dan Heng was a bit grateful that most of his comrades were off of the train to see him in this state. All but one person who decides to stay behind.

And here he had found himself in front of your cabin of the train. The door had a bit of decoration from your travels that would be easy to remove if needed. But it was an addition to your charm.

Contemplation gnaws at his thoughts. He didn’t wish to bother you. If your were focused on your hobbies or perhaps even sleeping, he didn’t wish to distract you from it. Dan Heng couldn’t process that you were right in front of him already. He had already knocked on your door in the moments of him being stuck in his thoughts.

“Dan heng?”

Faint dark rings circled his eyes. He could barely keep his eyes on you much less himself. Dan Heng just avoids your eyes entirely.

“Can I stay with you?”

Those short words were barely heard. It was a few seconds of processing what he said before the door was opened a little wider to let him in. A subtle gesture that he appreciated. He didn’t hesitate to let himself in the room. His aquamarine tail dragged behind him slowly. Brushing against your legs barely as he finds himself now in your bed. After a few short moments you back into the bed that was still radiating some form of warmth.

You knew why he was here. It didn’t take many words for you two to be huddled up next to each other within five minutes. It wasn’t unnatural for him to be this cuddly when he was sleepy. You didn’t mind it for the most part, which only led to you being squished between the mattress and him for most of the night. Along with the addition of his tail coiling around the two of you and the mattress itself. You didn’t ask about what it was that caused him to wake up and seek you out. A vague idea of what was going through his mind right now, but you didn’t question it. You were too tired to anyways.

Dan Heng couldn’t help himself for the most part. Intertwining his legs with yours and keeping you close to him is a blissful thing that he found comfort in. Resting his head above yours whilst you snuggled into his body.

He wished he could stay like this forever. Even if the time comes to wake up from his now peaceful slumber, he couldn’t ask for anything more than this.

[thesecretwriter]

nightmare - steven grant.

pairing: Steven Grant x female reader

warnings: angst – steven has a nightmare which leaves him startled, fluff – you’re there to comfort him, smut – smutty undertones, ooc!steven grant.

summary: in which y/n comforts steven after he has a nightmare.

word count: 900 words

a/n: been thinking of steven lately and how much I would love a man as soft as he is! 

minors/ageless blogs dni.

masterlists  

The first emotions that ran through your body when you heard his muffled cries were empathy and concern. His form was trembling next to yours, faced etched with fear. Your first instinct was to wake him up.

“Steven, wake up baby. Its okay, wake up,” you said as you leaned over him and stroked his hair comfortingly.

Sweat collected at his brow and his curly hair was a mess at the top of his head.

Your gentle touch to his head seemed to bring him out of his dazed state.

Even in the dark you could see the fear in his expression. He looked around the room alarmingly before settling his gaze on you.

He leaned up on his forearms.

“Darling?... it- the nightmare. I’m sorry,” he couldn’t form a proper sentence as he tried to reel his mind back to form coherent thoughts.

“Shh, its okay baby. It was just a nightmare. S’not real,”

You moved your body closer to his and let him settle his head against your chest as he leaned into you. Your hands made their way to his face and head to comb through his hair.

“It felt real. You were there one moment and gone the next. It all happened right in front of me and I couldn’t do anything,” he explained as he recalled his nightmare.

It’s obvious he was talking about his nightmare, and you knew the one thing he needed right now was someone to listen to him. 

“The thought of losing you… its terrifying. You’re all I have,” he whispers into the dark room.

“I’m here and not going anywhere. You will always have me here with you Steven,” you lay a kiss to his forehead as he closes his eyes for a second.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to go back to sleep,” he says sadly.

“And that’s okay,” you exclaim, knowing that he is going to feel bad.

“I’m sorry I woke you up like that,” he apologizes.

“Baby. One thing I know for sure is that you are not going to apologize for something you cannot control,” you make sure his eyes is on yours as you say this to him.

A small smile graces his lips.

“I love you so much,” he says and leans up to connect your lips.

The kiss is soft and gentle.

“I love you too,” you say back as you break the kiss.

You knew that you wouldn’t be able to sleep either if you knew Steven could not sleep. So, you opted for making some tea.

“I’m gonna make us some tea, okay?” you ask him as you get out of bed, causing Steven to move off you and lay on his side of the bed.

He lays in bed, staring up at the ceiling when his thoughts begin to wonder to the many times you had helped him in such situations.

You both had been dating for roughly over a year at this point. Having your presence in his apartment felt normal, like this is what his life was meant to be. Having you there in times of need and returning the favor if you ever needed it Before you, he lived life by a schedule, scared to come out of his comfort zone, but the moment he encountered you – that all changed.

He decides to join you in the kitchen, wanting to be near you in that moment.

You’re facing away from him when he walks into the kitchen. You were pouring the sugar into the tea cups since the water was still boiling. 

You feel him before you hear him. Steven stands closely behind you, caging you between the kitchen counter and his body by putting his hands on either side of you.

“I don’t think I appreciate you enough,” he murmurs into your ear as he lays soft kisses down toward your neck. His hair tickling you as he angles himself to kiss your neck. 

Goosebumps erupt on your skin as his hands roam your body beneath you sleep shirt. 

By now Steven has his body flush against yours and you feel all of him.

You feel your arousal growing for him.

“Steven,” you whisper.

“Yes baby?” he whispers back with a hint of a smile in his words.

“Need you,”

In a split second, he turned you to face him and hoists you to sit on the counter, being careful as to not push the teacups over the edge.

His lips are on yours in an instant, he wastes no time, getting straight to the point of wanting to feel you close to him. You’re pulled flush against his body as he kisses you sloppily in the best way possible.

“Fuck,” he murmurs as he pulls away from the kiss.

You look into his eyes and see them filled with desire. You always feel the most beautiful when its him that looks at you. There’s just something about the way his eyes look into yours.

“I guess we’re not having tea,” you chuckle as he hooks his arms around you, and you tighten your legs around him. He carries you like this back to the bedroom.