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lou-struck · 10 days ago

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Made With Love Part 5

Made with Love pt 5

OM Brothers & Datables x reader

Featuring: Simeon and a bonus character

SERIES MASTERLIST

Warnings: yandere Simeon, mentions of kidnapping, passing out, overexertion. Slightly suggestive behavior. Love Potion based personality changes, obsessive behaviors, mention of suggestive behavior, lots of teasing, kissing, touching, etc.

A/n: Thank you to everyone who stuck with me through this process, I know it took awhile to finish this mini series but I hope that it’s worth it.

As the Sorcerer's words echo through the dark, a disbelieving shiver trails down your spine. "Can you please repeat that, Solomon," you ask, hoping that your fatigue has made you auditorily hallucinate and everything will be fine.

His hand comes to rest on your arm, the comforting gesture does little to calm your nerves when the worry in his eyes shines as bright as the human world sun. "Depending on many factors, potions can affect individuals differently. As an angel, this twisted love potion may be much more potent on Simeon than it was on any of the Demons. I advise you to be on your guard when confronting him."

"So the kiss may not work at all?" you ask, trying your best to remain calm, but the slight tremor in your voice betrays you.

He shakes his head, "I'm afraid that's the case." His eyes fill with concern as they flick to the window. "I wonder if I should head back to the lab to try and create an antidote, in case you were to, to."

"In case I fail," you say dryly, understanding the severity of the situation. "But there still is a chance that I can help him, so I'm gonna take it. You should go back to Purgatory Hall; Luke should be…~"

Crap

For the first time in hours, you remember that you did not start this quest on your own. Poor Luke must be freaking out all by himself. You were supposed to check in with the angel, but after your DDD was waterlogged, thanks to Levi, you haven't been able to contact him at all.

"What's the matter Mc?" Solomon asks gently, grabbing ahold of your arm. The warmth radiating from his fingertips brings you back down to earth. "You look like you've seen a ghost.

"It's Luke," you answer, guilt flooding your features at just the mention of the little helper's name. "I was supposed to call him and check in while he has been working on the antidote but I couldn't. Do you have your DDD on you by chance?"

"Do I?" He furrows his brows and pats his pockets. Finding nothing, he frowns. "Sorry, I must've left it in the Banquet Hall. I recall having it when I arrived, but after everything that happened, I must've forgotten to pick it up."

You frown. Just standing around is wasting precious time, but you dread the words that are about to leave your lips. "You should head back. Get the others up to speed and check up on Luke for me, okay?"

"I don't want to leave you," he says; the fire in his eyes tells you that he means it with every fiber of his being. "Not when things are the way they are.

"Technically, I should be the safest out of everyone." you mention, "At least we know what Simeon wants with me; if one of you guys ran into him, it could be a different story."

The determination on your features draws a long sigh from Solomon, one that really reveals his age. "Are you really okay with trying to find him on your own?"

You nod, giving him what you believe to be a convincing smile. "There is still a possibility that I can break the spell on my own. But if I can't, I promise I will call for help.

"If that's what you think is best," he sighs, "But I can't say I'm happy with this arrangement."

"I know you aren't," you say quickly. "But thank you for going along with my plan."

Before he turns to go, he grabs your hand and looks deep into your eyes. "Please be careful, Mc. He may look the same, but that is not the Simeon you know. If things get dicey, just call for me. Please, Mc, promise me you won't try to be a hero and do this on your own. None of us would be able to handle it if something were to happen to you. I wouldn't be able to handle it if you got hurt."

"I promise. I'll be careful," you say solemnly and he shoots you one last glance, begging for you to change your mind before he turns and leaves through a door.

The feeling of loneliness comes quickly; all of your senses feel as if they have been heightened by your current fear. Every shadow that passes you resembles a hand ready to pull you into the darkness, and now you really want to go home.

Where could Simeon be?

The Library?

The Botanical gardens?

The Bathroom?

With the thousands of hiding spots in front of you, you can't help but feel a tad overwhelmed. Your heart rate rises and the stone pattern on the tiles blur under your overwhelmed gaze. You stumble slightly over a divot in the hall and reach out to a long end table to steady yourself.

The porcelain vase rattles but, thankfully, doesn't come crashing down.

Just as you breathe a sigh of relief, a low laughter reaches your ears, and you turn your end to the wall of shadows at the end of the hallway.

Ah, alone at last Mc," Simeon coo's stepping out from behind a pillar, brilliant white wings out on display as he takes you in with dark eyes. "You have no idea what kinds of fun I have planned for the two of us now that I have you all to myself. His usual angelic aura is replaced with one that is dark and menacing; against your better judgment, you are hit with an incapacitating wave of fear.

All it takes is one single step toward you for your courage to falter as one thought races through your mind on loop.

This isn't Simeon…

You turn and run.

At long last, Luke has done it…he thinks.

The Lab smells of black licorice and garlic as the angel's slightly elongated reflection stares back at him as he gazes into the Deep lavender concoction that is supposed to solve everything. This cure should make everyone stop acting so scary, and you can still have the Valentine's Day party you deserve.

But something feels wrong.

You haven't messaged him once through this whole process. Every time Luke stares at his empty inbox, his heart breaks a bit more as he imagines those obsessive demons taking you away forever.

Simeon'

What is going on over there?

Unable to wait any longer for the potion to cool, Luke takes it off its burner. The vial is painfully hot in his hands, but he doesn't let go as he puts a cork in it and runs out of the Lab in a flash.

The sudden burst of cold air in his lungs makes the little angel struggle to breathe, but he keeps running. The taller demons he passes on the street give him odd looks as he passes, but he doesn't have time to care.

Keeping his eyes trained on the wet ground below, he doesn't see the large man-shark demon stepping into his path until he makes contact with his slick, gray skin. Being much lighter than that massive demon, Luke bounces off of him and hits the ground hard.

His knees sting as they scrape the ground and turn an angry red color, but as he struggles to regain his breath, all he can think of is the potion.

Did he break it?

"Hey, little guy?" the demon he had crashed into earlier says, holding out a fin. "Are you okay? That was quite the spill."

Luke takes the fin and gets to his feet. He holds the antidote a bit closer to his chest. "I'm fine, I'm really sorry for running into you, but I have to go."

"It's cool, I get it." the demon says, smiling with his rows and rows and rows of jagged teeth. "Have a good one."

Luke nods and starts to run once more. His stomach twists and turns as he thinks of Simeon, of Barbatos, of you.

While his tired, little mind may be making him think the worst, he has this strange feeling that you are in trouble.

Simeon~

You're in trouble.

Out of breath, you find yourself in the middle of the empty ballroom. The crystal chandelier gleams in the moonlight as a few white feathers float gently to the ground, each one casting a new shadow in Simeon's image.

He's toying with you.

"Are you done running?" His voice echoes through the darkness. "You must be tired, poor thing, won't you come here?" his tone is soft, angelic, and it brings tears to your eyes as you fight your natural instinct to run into his arms.

Although you cannot see him, you can feel his presence, he isn't just watching you at this point, he's hunting you. The intense power radiating from the darkness causes your knees to tremble as you stumble over to the wall. Your body feels far weaker than normal, but your mind is still sharp.

The potion is clearly still effective on him, so it could be entirely possible that he truly is as possessive as the others claimed he was. Meaning, you can use it to your advantage.

"Simeon, c-could you please come out here?" you call, forcing your voice to waver a bit more than necessary to lure him out. "Please, I got rid of the others, so It's just us. I-i want to spend my Valentine's Day with you."

You pause, awaiting his response, but get nothing. If your angel heard you, he doesn't seem to be taking the bait. Squinting through the room, you search for any sign of motion finding nothing.

Walking over to the partially drawn curtains, your fingers close around the thick woven cord and give it a light tug. A bit more moonlight would make your search for Simeon a bit easier, but you find it doesn't budge.

Gritting your teeth, you pull at it again and again, until the velvet drapery slides, revealing a disheveled Simeon who greets you with a manic grin.

"You've done well my darling." he coo's those bright, beautiful blue eyes of his practically concealed by those enlarged hearts. "You found what was behind curtain number one."

His skin feels like it's on fire as his hand latches around your wrist. You gasp at the sensation and instinctively try to step away, but he doesn't let you.

You are enveloped in his steaming embrace as he nuzzles his face into your hair. The faint glow of his wings illuminates the room as his feathers cocoon you. Despite the circumstances, you relax under his familiar touch. "Please don't be afraid of me." he murmurs, his voice soft and genuine as he tries to comfort you.

"I'm not afraid of you Simeon," you answer truthfully, "I could never be afraid of you. Today has just been difficult."

"I know My Love," he says, smiling into your hair. There is something eerie in his tone that puts you on edge. "It must've been difficult playing this little game of hide and seek all by yourself, but you did it. You found everyone, Just like I thought you would."

As his words wash over you, your stomach sinks and you twist around to face him. "What are you talking about?"

He smiles as he grabs your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze as he eyes you with predatory hunger. "Did you have fun getting your special little moment with everyone else? Did you enjoy their pathetic displays of infatuation, picking off each lovesick fool one by one and sending them off with just a little kiss?"

The Venom in his words causes you to squirm in his hold. "You were watching me?"

"Since you stepped foot in this castle," he grins his nails gently tracing the side of your face. "But unlike those demons, I showed restraint and waited for them to get out of the way. Like always, they were too greedy to focus on the big picture."

Perhaps it's the unusual bout of exhaustion you are feeling, but you're having trouble seeing what Simeon is referring to as the 'big picture' as well. "And what would that be?" You ask carefully.

"Before now, I was always the one to make sacrifices when it came to spending time with you. Whenever I try, you always get taken away from me to either play peacemaker to those selfish demons when they cause problems they lack the mental fortitude to fix themselves, get treated like one of Solomon's little lab rats, or play babysitter to Luke, who is afraid of his own shadow." He is so vexed at the words spewing out of his mouth that his body temperature increases even higher than before, making this smothering contact stiflingly warm.

There is real pain behind his harsh words, the kind that definitely could be exploited by a personality-altering Love Potion; your heart breaks for the neglected angel. "Simeon…"

"So you can see it too?" I am done taking a backseat and watching everyone sweep you off your feet while I am obligated to give up my heart's desire." White feathers twitch as their owner stares down at you darkly. "So I will take you away and dedicate every waking moment of my life to keeping your content."

With wings like those, Simeon could easily carry you away from the Devildom, and judging from the look of desperation on his face, he is planning on doing just that.

"Please listen to me," you plead, placing your hand on his chest; his heart is beating out of control, "It's the Love Potion talking; you don't really want to do this. Let me help you."

He looks as if you had just slapped him across the face. His emotions are going from one extreme to the other. "How can you say that, Mc? How can you say that I wouldn't want to be near you at all times?"

"I'm sorry, I just never saw things that way until now." you apologize softly. "I never realized how little time we get to spend together. But I would like to fix it if you would allow me to."

The hearts shrink in size as you gently cup his overheating face, his blush looks painfully deep as you press your lips to his, softly at first, but the kiss quickly turns desperate as you think of all the times Simeon has had to play the good sport.

Although kindness is one of his best traits, you fell in Love with Simeon, not the worn doormat he perceives himself to be at the moment. You love his wit, his creativity, his warmth.

You pour your affections into the kiss, but something feels off.

Your body tingles as you feel your energy being drained from you at a rapid pace. Your arm becomes slack as it falls from Simeon's face and hangs limply.

Your eyes widen as you stare up at Simeon helplessly. A look of Victory on his face as he boops your nose. "Oh come on Darling; You're going to have to give me much more than that."

The doors to the banquet hall part for Solomon as he approaches, but as he sees the nine pairs of eyes on him, he wishes he could be anywhere else at the moment. When the awaiting demons realize it is just him, their eager, hopeful looks turn mostly cold and disinterested.

It stings.

"Diavolo is the first to greet him with a warm smile as the Prince strides over and pats him on the back. "Solomon, I am relieved to see that you have come back to us in one piece~."

"Where's Mc?" Mammon says interrupting his monarch, earring a murderous glare from Barbatos and a thwack to the back of the head from Lucifer.

Exhaling, his thoughts return to you, "Mc…Stayed behind to find Simeon on their own. I offered to help but they felt it was best if they faced him alone. Given the circumstances."

Satan sits up straighter in his chair, "That appears to be the best course of action," he relents. "We all saw Simeon; I fear if he were to run into one of us, he might become violent. But he would never hurt Mc, potion or no potion."

Asmodeus, the only one of the Avatars of Sin Solomon has a pact with, narrows his eyes, and sends the Sorcerer an accusatory glare. "There's something you're not telling us Hon; what is it?"

Signing deeper, he internally curses the demon for seeing through him so quickly. "There is a chance Mc will not be able to break the spell on Simeon with just a kiss. I heard Luke is back at Purgatory Hall working on an antidote as we speak in case they were to fail."

The room goes deathly quiet as everyone recalls Simeon's deranged promises from earlier. If you are at his mercy with no way of breaking the spell, he may have the upperhand and escape the Devildom with you.

"That is serious," Diavolo frowns, addressing the room, "We must find them and restrain Simeon before he does anything he'll regret. Mc's safety takes priority right now."

"Something's wrong," Lucifer says from his seat. "I'm having trouble detecting Mc's presence."

"Has the Dark Angel made his move already?" Levi shudders.

"Did you really give Simeon a nickname at a time like this?" Belphie asks, looking rather irritated. "I'm tired of waiting around while Mc is in danger."

Tired

That one little word causes Solomon's eye to widen as the passage of potion side effects flashes through his mind.

"I know that look," Barbatos says wearily. "What are you thinking about?"

"I think," he says, his mouth bone dry as he speaks. "We need to go find Mc, right now."

Simeon II ~

"Did you really think it was going to be that easy, Mc? Did you really think that I would just throw away the chance to keep you all to myself because of a little kiss?" He asks, his hand rising to gently stroke your cheek, forcing you to stare into his unnerving heart-shaped pupils. The hearts are dilating and constricting so rapidly they look as if they are beating. "I want more…"

"What's going on?" you breathe as Simeon holds your numb body like you're a porcelain doll. "Simeon, why can't I move?"

"Don't worry My Darling. It's not permanent, but this does make our dramatic escape a bit easier for me." He smiles, pressing another kiss onto your forehead as if he is mocking your earlier attempt of breaking the spell. Upon seeing your frightened features, he gently bushes a few strands of hair from your face. "Oh, don't look at me like that, Mc; my heart won't be able to take it."

"What did you do?"

His smile grows wider, "I didn't do anything. The one responsible for the little state of exhaustion you find yourself in, is you."

"Wha~"

"My selfless little love, did you not realize that with each kiss you gave to break the spell, you have been draining your energy?" he asks amusedly. "Or did you believe you were tired from walking all this time?"

"You're right," you say after a moment of contemplation. You have felt the tug of exhaustion but never even considered that breaking the spell would have an effect on you. You really thought you were feeling the effects of stress or not drinking enough water. "But how did you know?"

"Because I see you, Mc," he coos, "The others, time and time again, take advantage of that big, beautiful heart of yours. Let me help you. Let me take you away from all of this so I can worship you the way you deserve to be. Every day will feel like heaven; I will dedicate every waking moment to your rapture; you will be so content, you will never long for anyone else, only me."

He steps closer to the balcony doors as you scream at your tired limbs to move. Your Fingertips twitch slightly, but it's not enough. You need to buy yourself some more time. "Simeon, we can't do this. We can't just leave behind everyone else."

He stops in his tracks, "You don't love me?" he asks, his voice tender with emotion as hurt fills his bewitched eyes. The hearts have stopped beating, but yours aches at the accusation.

"Of course I love you Simeon," you say quickly, the wide, lovesick grin returning to his face at your words. "But I am happy here, and I know you are too. The other~"

"Will never stop using you," he interrupts, not taking his eyes off of you. "Aren't you tired Mc? Every day, you get thrown into the path of danger. And have to be the one to fix it. I saw what Leviathan did to you. I was this close to stepping in and striking him down, but then you broke the spell, And he was back to his pathetic self."

"That was an accident, he wasn't in control of his own actions." You say, coming to the thirdborn's defense. "But I still care about him."

"The others are not different, Beelzebub, Diavolo, Solomon. Their Love does not even compare to what I feel for you." Tears well in Simeon's eyes as he shakes. These words coming out of his mouth are so unkind; there is no way Simeon would say these things about his friends, his former brothers, and Luke, the one who looks up to him like an older brother.

"What about the Love you have for them? These are your friends, your family. How can you turn on them so easily?"

"Because you are~" he pauses, furrowing his brow as he tries to remain focused on his words, on his obsession. It seems that the real Simeon is fighting below the surface, trying to break out of the enchantment. "You are everything to me, the only Love I need. And I will do whatever I can to keep you safe."

He starts to walk out the balcony doors. The cold air makes you shiver as your stomach sinks in despair. You can't fail, not now.

"Simeon, I can't let you do this."

With your remaining energy you reach up to grab his face, kissing him once more, pouring not just your Love into the action, but everything else you possess. With Simeon fighting the battle on the inside, the two of your souls meet at the impact point.

Your muscles go slack as you and Simeon drop to the floor, exhausted. Your lids are heavy as you watch him blink away the hearts in his eyes.

With the fog cleared, he stares down at your weakened form with fear. "Mc? What happened? What did I do?"

"You're back. I'm so relieved." you murmur before you lose consciousness.

Simeon holds you gently, real tears streaming down his cheeks as he sobs out quiet apologies for only you to hear. Although the details come back to him slowly, he knows that he is the one to blame for the state you are in. Alive, but completely drained of energy.

He had brought you back inside from the chilly balcony, allowing his wings to disappear. He does not feel very much like an Angel right now.

A stampede of footsteps approaches and he tenses up, waiting for the consequences of his actions to tear him apart.

Being completely drained of energy is a weird sensation.

You aren't unconscious, but you aren't quite with everyone. Many concerned voices come through your ears, muffled, as if your ears have been stuffed with cotton.

Mammon, as the fastest of the bunch, was the first to come to your side. You recall him sliding across the marble floor, stealing you away from Simeon's trembling arms, trying desperately to shake you awake.

"Why aren't they waking up?" he mumbles, his tone worried, yet angry, and you know he is looking at Simeon.

"They used all their energy," another voice, Solomon, says plainly. "It was a side effect from breaking the spell we were under. I didn't put two and two together at the time, but Mc gave us each a bit of their energy with their kiss."

"I see," Barbatos muses "So that was what was bothering you Solomon."

You feel your body taken carefully from Mammon's arms as you are cradled against a broad chest. Diavolo's voice is comforting in your ear as he whispers. "You did well, Mc; once again, the Devildom is in your debt." his warm power courses through you as you begin to recover a part of your strength.

"But when will they wake up?" Beel asks worriedly. "They need to eat if they want to restore their strength."

"Maybe we should let them sleep," Belphie hums. "That always makes me feel better."

"Yer always sleeping," Mammon sighs.

"I'm awake." You mutter weakly, opening your eyes. You are completely surrounded by your loved ones, the nine demons and the Sorcerer look weary but relieved to see you awake.

"You did it, Hon." Asmo smiles, smoothing your messed up hair. "You saved us all."

"And I'm sure I've never looked better," you quip, earning a warm chuckle from Diavolo and the others, but you notice something just out of the corner of your eye. "Oh Simeon.."

Simeon watches you from afar, still on the floor. When he notices you looking at him, he quickly averts his gaze, ashamed of his actions under the spell.

Seeing him like this breaks your heart. Sensing your distress, Lucifer breaks away from the group. You watch as he walks over to Simeon and extends a hand to his former brother. "Come on," he says, "Mc should spend the rest of the day with everyone they care about."

You nod encouragingly to Diavolo to set you down as Simeon takes Lucifer's hand, getting slowly to his feet. His steps are small as he approaches. "How are you feeling?" he asks softly.

You wrap your arms around him, and he relaxes under your gentle touch. "A little tired, but I'm glad that everything is back to normal."

"I'm relieved to hear you say that. But words cannot express how sorry I am for putting you through all that." he begins, this time looking around at everyone. "The potion seemed to feed on my inner insecurities, twisting my desires and taking control of my body, please believe me that the words I was saying were not entirely my own."

"I am sure we all said things we didn't mean," Diavolo shudders, recalling his earlier behavior, "But I promise you that no one here is at liberty to pass judgment.

"Even so, you were an amazing Final Boss Simeon." Levi gushes, the respect he has for his idol not diminished in the slightest.

"Oh, well thank you Leviatan." Simeon replies. "Perhaps this will make for an entertaining plot in my next novel. Perhaps you could assist me with the details."

Levi looks so overjoyed he is about to faint, so you step in, taking Simeon's hand and giving it a squeeze, "I'm just glad we are all together now."

"Does that mean we can get back to the feast?" Beel asks hopefully. "I'm starving."

"What else is new?" Satan sighs, turning his attention to you. "You had us worried, you have to stop doing that."

"Speaking of worried." Barbatos adds with a frown. "Where is Luke?"

"Oh my," Solomon pales. "In the excitement, I forgot to contact him when I arrived at the banquet hall. Should I go find him and tell him that the spell has broken?"

"Poor Chihuahua, he must be freakin out right now." Mammon sighs, running a hand through his hair.

"Perhaps you should go get him, Mammon," Lucifer says.

"I'm here," a small voice calls, pushing through the doors.

Luke pants hunched over, holding a small glass vial close to his chest. "I got the antidote."

"You created an antidote all by yourself?" Simeon asks, coming over to crouch next to his out-of-breath companion. "I am so proud of you, Luke."

"Me too," you hum, coming to the other side of him.

He preens under your praise but looks around the room, counting each individual with a frown. "Wait… Is everyone back to normal? What did I miss?"

The room falls silent as everyone glances at each other awkwardly, not wanting to discuss the more intimate details of your afternoon with the Little Angel.

"Mc was able to break the spell," Babatos answers simply. "But your alchemic success will not go unnoticed, I'll see to it that you receive extra credit in your chemistry class."

Luke's cheeks burn crimson at Barbatos' compliment. "R-really?"

"Absolutely, you did well Luke," you say kindly. "But I am sorry for not contacting you, I fell into the pool and my DDD was ruined."

"My bad," Levi mutters, his face turning redder than Lukes.

Diavolo, being the diplomat he is, claps his hands together. "Since we are all together now, I saw we all return to the banquet hall and enjoy the rest of the party. I believe Mc would enjoy some rest and refreshments."

"No more cookies though," Asmodues chuckles, sending you a playful wink. "I don't think Mc could handle any more excitement today."

"I'll dispose of them personally when we get back to the banquet hall," Lucifer promises you, placing his hand on your lower back, "But I will make sure to reward you for your efforts when you regain your strength."

"Hey, stop flirtin' with 'em, Lucifer," Mammon grumbles, yanking you away from the firstborn. "They've had enough of that today."

Mephisto (Bonus) ~

Although the President of the RAD Newspaper Club heard that today, Lord Diavolo had thrown together a private celebration in your honor and canceled his many appointments, he still decided to stop by the castle.

There is a large, elegantly wrapped present in his hands as he walks eagerly toward the banquet hall. Imagining the look of surprise on your face when you see that he has brought you some of your favorite gifts.

Presenting you with such a gift would surely make the Noble Demon look better in the eyes of his Prince.

It certainly isn't because he has feelings for you or anything like that.

It's just politics… or so he tells himself.

Checking his reflection in the hallway mirror just outside of the banquet hall. He readjusts his tie and smoothes out his hair, making it look just so.

With no attendants on duty, the doors open for him, magically revealing, much to his disappointment, an empty room.

'Where is everyone?' he murmurs, scanning the room. The tables are filled with food, and there is a large, unopened pile of gifts by the fireplace, but none of the attendees are around to enjoy them.

The dark hum of magic fills the room causing the demon to turn to the end table, where a small plate of heart-shaped cookies sits innocently seeingly appeared out of thin air.

"Strange," he says to himself observing the platter. The warm smell tantalizes his nose, and he is reminded of the sweet vanilla fragrance you wore to the ball the other night. "I wonder…"

He looks around sheepishly, hoping no one observes his little lapse in self-control. He had been taught by his governess from a young age that it is rude to take food from a gathering he wasn't invited to.

But he can't help it.

Raising the cookie to his lips, he takes a bite.

Tagging; @pixelcafe-network

#obey me nightbringer #obey me shall we date #obey me x reader #obey me #Diavolo x reader #Barbatos x reader #Simeon x reader #Solomon x reader #Lucifer x reader #x reader

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auraxins · 7 months ago

Text

notes: sunday x gn!reader, angst, post-penacony story (inc. spoilers)

vomited this out at 4am with no edits and no attention to coherency you're welcome goodnight

When you're granted access to visit Sunday, a part of you wishes that The Family had told you no.

His cell is imposing, far larger than he has any need for, with elaborate chains keeping his arms shackled above his head. There is something about the droop to his frame, the aversion of his gaze, his closed eyes, that tightens your chest.

He looks small.

He looks lonely.

(You're hurt, you remind yourself. In his endeavours to rid his world of the ardors of survival, Sunday had hurt you. He had hurt so many of the people you cared about.)

And yet there is a pain etched deep into his face when he finally looks up at you. Those golden eyes are tarnished, tired, but most importantly they are surprised. (Whether it's because he sees you, or that he's been warranted a visitor in the first place, you remain unsure.)

You take a tentative step forward. The guards outside move back into formation as the cell door falls shut.

Sunday doesn't speak. You don't think you want him to. He simply watches, with those pained eyes, as you decide what to do.

"I haven't forgiven you," you speak at last, choking down your nerves. "You know that, don't you?"

Dry lips part, then close. He opts instead to nod.

You take another step, and another, til a mere stretch of your arm separates you from the silken feathers around his head. (A distant, echoing voice at the back of your mind lists off all you might be capable of from this distance. Another cries out to flee.)

"I trusted you." Though you try to stifle it, your voice cracks. "You broke my trust, Sunday."

He can't seem to find the words to answer you today. It's a palpable change from how talkative you're used to him. (You wonder briefly whether it would be easier for him to speak back, or if you prefer it this way. At least you've the freedom to say what's on your mind.)

"You know, at first they wanted to arrest me too." A dry, bitter laugh escapes you. "The Family thought I was working with you. I wouldn't be surprised if they still did. Maybe that's the only reason I've been allowed to see you, so they can figure it out for themselves."

You move to sit, cross-legged on the floor at Sunday's feet. Looking up at him like this feels uncomfortable, strange, but it also gives you the perfect angle to get a better look at him.

Despite the dishevelled clothes and hair that are so clearly a result of the aftermath of his incarceration, he maintains a faint air of elegance. It is settled into the fine curve of his jaw, the delicate long lashes that frame those tarnished eyes- which continue to watch you with an amalgam of pain and surprise- and in the sweeping arc of his body as he leans forwards in his chair.

He's beautiful, as he always has been.

And yet it remains difficult to separate him from the image of that ascended monster you'd observed the Express engage in battle. The looming figure, the stark brightness of its porcelain form, had haunted you for days. Almost weeks.

(But Sunday himself has haunted you for far longer.

He continues to now, with his silence, with his gaze. Akin to a ghost, the man you have allowed to obscure your mind lingers fleeting and restless.)

When he speaks at last, after so many year-long minutes, you fear you've succumbed to a hallucination.

"I've missed you," he says. It comes out rasped, strained, accompanied with a heaving cough, but it rings out clear as day in the silence of his cell.

A soft jingling, then a harsh clank, draws your attention to the chains above his head. He'd tried to move his arm, you surmise, and failed miserably. You can't decide if you're glad he can't reach out to touch you like he seems to want. (Your fingers twitch at your sides, echoing the sentiment.)

Sunday once longed for freedom. In the sanctity of his office, he had told you as much. The metal that bites against his wrists and ankles now feels so terribly far removed from such a vision. (If he had the chance, would he have taken it back and spread his wings? Or has he always been fated to remain caged?)

Your chest heaves as you feel a tear well up in the corner of your eye.

(You can't cry here, not now. Not in front of him.)

One of the guards knocks on the door. One more minute. A sigh of relief falls past your lips.

"You're leaving already?" Sunday asks. If you didn't know better, you'd think those dulled eyes of his mirrored your own right now.

You don't speak as you walk to the door, waiting patiently for the guards to let you leave.

Through the final stretch of light that paints his cell, you take one more glance to him. You try not to catch what he mouths, but the sight is seared in your mind within an instant.

"Is everything okay?" A guard asks, arm outstretched to escort you from the prison.

"I suppose it'll have to be," you say.

#sunday x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader

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writerunnamed · 4 months ago

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note: I am both shocked, and grateful at the response this story has gotten. I didn't tag anyone, and I expected maybe a few people to be into it but you proved me so wrong. So thankful that you all like it, please don't be shy. Slide into the dms, spam me with asks, lets go nuts together. xo (thanks so much for going through and betaing this chapter @frannyzooey xo) Joel(stepdad), significant age gap, female reader. 18+ legal, reader is 20 (warnings: pov sex, shower sex, really inappropriate dirty talk, slight Dom-Joel vibes, daddy kink, heavy guilt) 4k word count masterlist

The guilt doesn’t creep in, it consumes like a five alarm fire. It’s weight holding you pressed to your bed as the shadows in your room stretch out with the fading of the golden hour light. The darkness helps, but not nearly enough to make any kind of a difference.

He’d left after, closing your bedroom door behind him with your slick still smeared all over his dick and the realization of what you’ve done keeps hitting you. It keeps dropping stones in your gut, further weighing you down, naked, in the incriminating wet patch on your sheets. You hear your mother open the front door an indeterminable amount of time after. Your face burns, your heart races, she has to know. Surely she’d felt it, like a phantom limb while she was working, a ghost knife in the shape of her daughter, stabbing her in the back.

You wait, barely breathing, sheets clutched in the talons of your fingersfor her to storm in, to rip you out of the house by your skin but it doesn’t happen. You hear him laugh, hear them chat as though nothing has happened. Your heart rate steadily lowers, and it becomes apparent that her wrath isn’t pending.

The ax hanging over your head is being held by you, and no one else.

You stay there, uncomfortable, ashamed, cold, until it’s late enough that the house falls silent. Then, and only then do you get up and change the sheets. You pad out to the bathroom and shower, silently telling yourself that it was a temporary lapse in judgment. It was a psychotic episode. It was a hallucination, there’s no way you’d actually done that. It must have been imagined, but then you clean between your legs and feel the soreness and curse yourself all over again.

You do your best to wash him off of you, wash the whole encounter, the whole mistake, and vow to yourself to never give it another thought. You console yourself with the thought that he must feel awful too, surely. He was probably lying there next to your mother, terrified with guilt. The devil on your shoulder, that cruel thing inside laughed at your naivety, practically yelling at you to smarten up. He doesn’t feel guilty, he’s probably snoring, his balls empty, his body pleasantly tired without a care in the world.

Sleep eventually finds you, giving you the blissful respite of the dreamless dark.

—

A week goes by and you can almost convince yourself it had been a dream. Your mother is her normal, distant, distracted self. Joel works and blessedly you have managed to avoid any unsupervised interactions. Your brain however, has splintered and each shard has its role. The first keeps you sane, it does it best to make sure you focus on anything but the event you will not name. Another convinces you that things have almost fixed themselves since… well, that. It fools you into believing that it was somehow a cure. Things feel better in the house. The tension is gone, Joel seems disinterested, your mother is preoccupied. A tentative truce has somehow been enforced.

There is another shard, an unwelcome and unruly and now untethered part of you that screams for a repeat performance. It begs and pleads for you to corner Joel and take what he gave again and again. The other aspects keep it restrained for most of the day. Work, responsibilities, the general needs and demands of the day take up most of your bandwidth but at night, at night it reigns supreme and without opposition.

In the comforting dark of your now tainted space, that illicit part of you floods your mind's eye with the vision of Joel there, in your bed. It recalls the feeling of his mouth on your nipples with crystalline clarity, makes you feel the way he molded your body to take him, the way you came around his cock with that word in your mouth.

You were grateful for the toy, but he’d been so frustratingly right about it not doing much. After him, the toy was a tease. It was barely a taste of what he’d been able to do, but it didn’t stop you from using it. It was the safest option, until you could find someone appropriate.

Or get the fuck out of that house and forget about the whole thing.

More days pass, and that tension filters through your defences, It glides in and fills every angle of the house, every corner with a need borne of your interlude.

Joel’s eyes linger again, he tracks your movements whether your mother is around or not. He smiles, he tests, pushes your limits with a passing hand on your lower back. His fingers linger when he hands you a plate or a mug, he sits close enough for his thighs to press to yours on the couch, the soft light of the tv and the lamp casting shadows across you both.

Your mother doesn’t pay attention, or doesn’t see it. You are not a threat to her relationship, why would you be? In any normal, healthy family this would never be something to be worried about, not in a million years. In a proper family, a stepfather would not fuck his stepdaughter.

A stepdaughter would not fantasize about it either.

The guilt builds the more time passes, but it wars with another, less wholesome feeling. Desire. Unadulterated lust. There is a part of you, a growing, strengthening part that craves him, that bombards you with different ways to have him inside you again, to beg him to fuck you harder, to give it to you longer, to beg for him to come inside you and mark you as his own and this scares you half to death.

Soon though, it eclipses that guilt and takes you to the breaking point.

It comes to a head one day, when you come home to both of them smiling and happy.

“Hey babygirl.”

He smiles when you set your bag down and you ignore the way your body comes to life with that endearment.

“Go on up and get dressed, I’m takin’ my girls out for dinner.”

Your mother beams, sliding her arms around his waist with a dreamy smile. “I got a promotion, Joel is going to treat us.” She’s in a very good mood.

“Oh, I’m alright, bit tired but you two go ahead. Have a drink for me.” You smile your sincerest smile, urging them to leave you alone. The toy floats in your brain, calling to you with the promise of the momentary relief it brings, however paltry compared to him.

“Nonsense. Go on, we’re all goin’.” He raises an eyebrow, and you sigh, already resigned. “Go on, don’t make me ask you again, we gotta celebrate.” There is a playful, yet iron-strong tone that you know in your heart you cannot disobey.

“We can go on our own if she wants to stay.” Your mom combs his hair back with her fingers, fixing it and he lets her, smiling down at her as you make your way up the stairs.

“We’re all goin’-” It’s the last thing you hear him say before you close your door and go about getting dressed.

It’s a pretty fancy steakhouse, a place you’d only ever been to once on a date. He’d put on a nice shirt, and your mom wore one of her nicer dresses. You couldn’t exactly wear leggings, so you’d dug out a dress of your own and trudged along despite your wish to be anywhere but.

He slid into the booth beside you. You said nothing.

Your mother talks about her job, about how happy she is they’re taking notice of all her hard work and you’re genuinely proud of her. Growing up you don’t remember her holding down a job for more than a few months, Joel had changed that too. He’d pushed her to buckle down and take her employment seriously and it had paid off. It was just another one of those contradictory things about him, something you should have loved him for, a genuine, paternal thing but it didn’t mesh with your new dynamic.

Paternal. What a joke.

The food is good, and you enjoy it in relative silence while your mother prattles on about her work, her manager, her team while Joel smiles and looks her in the eye. It’s almost pleasant, almost normal, the three of you, mother, father and daughter in a dark little booth celebrating a win.

It’s almost nice, until you feel his hand on your knee under the table.

You jump, the shock of it making you drop your fork.

“You alright babygirl?” He smiles, genuine concern on his face as heat floods your body and you nod, frantically. With a tight smile you go to pick it up but he stops you, and ducks under the table to fish for it. Your mom laughs it off and you smile, blood pounding when you feel his hand again while he’s reaching for the fork. It moves your skirt up, exposing more of your thigh.

“I’ll ask the waiter for a new one.” He sits up and winks, adjusting himself so he’s a little closer. His hand lands back on your thigh and his thumb strokes at the skin, little circles that make you lightheaded.

“I think I need to use the little girls room.” Your mother puts her napkin on the table and for a moment you think this is your chance. If she asks if you need to go, you’ll jump at the chance – but his hand tightens, just enough to let you know to stay put.

She doesn’t ask, and when she rounds the corner he turns to you, eyes bright with the same lust you’ve been stomping down inside.

“Happy you’re here babygirl, been missin’ you.” His hand slides up until it’s pressed against your core. Your breath comes in pants, and you’re rendered silent.

“Been dreamin’ about havin’ you again. Been fightin’ the urge to sneak in and spread you out on that little bed, eat that pretty little cunt til you’re cryin for me to fuck you.”

He presses close, tilting your face up to press his lips against yours soft enough to tickle. “You been thinkin’ about me?” He presses another little kiss, and you pull away, terrified to see strangers staring at you disgusted.

No one is looking though, and he knows.

“Joel, stop, not here.” You’re frantic, heart racing, pussy leaking.

“Who am I?” he raises his eyebrows, expecting.

You close your eyes, letting out a sigh. “She’ll be back any minute.”

“Say it babygirl, say what I know you’re wantin’ to say. Who am I?” His hand lands on your thigh again.

It’s on the tip of your tongue and you hate that he’s right, you do want to say it. You want to scream it.

“...Daddy.” It’s barely a whisper, but it feels so good.

“Little louder honey.” He slides up, pressing his fingers against your clit.

“Daddy, please–” You give in, and it comes out almost a moan. There’s that sense again, of falling into a trap you hadn’t seen him set but it’s secondary to the self-satisfied smile on his face, to the way your body primes itself for whatever he deems fit. Your thighs clamp around his hand, the restaurant falls away and all that matters is his warm breath ghosting across your face, his strength, the press of his fingers.

“That’s better.” He smiles, and moves away and it’s with an unspeakable relief that you see your mother round the corner again, eyes on her feet while you adjust and move further away. The guilt gnaws at you, but the other thing rages, paints her as an interruption for a moment before you reign it in. She smiles when she slides into her side of the booth.

“How ‘bout we get dessert? I could do with a little somethin’ sweet.” He smiles, and she agrees.

They chat idly on the drive back to the house. She mentions how the excitement has given her a headache, and he urges her to go rest. It’s terrifying, the change in him: his attitude with her, his obvious care and the juxtaposition to his behavior in the restaurant.

Needing a break from the tension he built inside you earlier, you grab a change of clothes and run for the shower, grateful for the temporary oasis.

You try to take your time, to focus on anything and everything except the overwhelming need to be fucked into your matress. A few, blissfully steam-filled minutes later you hear the bathroom door open.

“Mom?” You call out, but after a few silent moments you think you might have imagined it. Until the curtain opens and Joel steps in as naked as the day he was born.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You let out a terrified whisper and your first instinct is to cover yourself.

“Calm down, your mama’s sleepin’. She was feelin’ drained' from work and everythin’ so she took an ambien.” He steps towards you, forcing you to take a step back. “This water’s fit to burn my skin off.” He hisses but doesn’t adjust the temperature.

He steps under the spray while you tuck yourself against the corner, shaking from the chilly tile pressing against your back. Your arm is pressed to your front covering your breasts, and the other is cupping your pussy, hiding your bits from his gaze. In contrast, he’s unbothered by his nakedness. His cock is soft, his arms are strong, his middle a little soft, but his beauty is undeniable. This is a man’s body, and you take it in with increasing want.

Your eyes betray you, your body betrays you, everything inside you seems to scream betrayal when he’s alone with you like this. He tilts his face up into the hot spray. He’s so fucking handsome, so virile, so hung. You kick yourself as you stare at his cock, already knowing that you’re going to give in to him, despite your mother being asleep just down the hall.

“Come on babygirl, get under the water with me.” He reaches forward, taking your hand and pulling you towards him. You let him, heart fluttering like a bird in a cage at the feel of him pressing you close to him. The water cascades over you both, steam billowing out and his hands travel the expanse of your back. They slide over your shoulders, reaching down to cup your backside. He pulls you closer, pressing his mouth to yours and you can’t help but moan.

He smiles, moving his kisses to your neck, your shoulders and that thing inside you wins yet again. Your hands press against his chest, they move over the muscles of his arms that you cannot help but stare at, they caress his back and up to curl through the hair at the base of his neck.

You pull his face to yours for a deeper kiss, the kiss you’ve been craving since he left you wet and trembling in your bed. He groans when your tongue licks into his mouth and then it changes. From an almost sweet exploration, to a desperate need to consume one another. His cock hardens against your belly and your cunt aches at the feel of it.

“Give it to me, I want it.” Someone who cannot be you begs him, clutching at his hair when he licks at your neck, his hands palming at your breasts as your back hits the tile again.

“What do you want, baby?” He lifts your thigh, wrapping it around his hip as he slots his cock at the seam of your cunt. He doesn’t press, just glides it between your legs, never notching the blunt tip of it at your entrance like you hope he will. The head of it nudges at your clit and he rocks it against you, teasing you into madness.

You know what he wants, you want it too. As hard as he is, as desperate as you know he is to slip inside, he has all the patience in the world.

He knows this. He also knows that you are much more desperate than him.

“I want your cock daddy, please, I need it.” You all but moan, some, pathetic, half-human thing burning with a fever, begging to be fucked like a whore. Begging him. The one person you shouldn’t beg this from.

“Such a good girl, such a quick learner.” He finally grasps himself in hand, making sure you watch him as he angles himself and slides home in one smooth, brutal stroke. The moan you let out is a loud, filthy thing.

“Shh, can’t have you makin’ all that noise honey,” He slips his forearm under your calf to open you up wide, his other hand coming up to wrap around your throat. He snaps his hips hard enough to make everything bounce and you cannot imagine ever being this fucking turned on, this hot for another person.

“Or maybe you do, maybe you want your mama to come in here, see how well her babygirl takes her daddys cock.”

You close your eyes at that, it’s too filthy, it’s too depraved but your cunt still drools out its passion for him.

“You get so wet when I tell you how well you take it, even here I can feel her soakin’ me.” He stares at the juncture of your thighs- watches himself spearing you with his cock. Your eyes are half-glazed, admiring the way his neck strains, the definition in his arms, the way his mouth hangs open. His skin red from exertion and the heat of the water.

He’s right, something inside feeds off his praise no matter how fucking wrong it is, you need it.

“Yes daddy, I like it.” You confess, already damned anyway.

“I know baby, I know.” He lets go of your throat and holds onto your ass before sticking his tongue down your throat. You whimper into his mouth, holding onto his neck for dear life while inching closer and closer to the orgasm building in your hips, in the base of your spine.

“Wanna feel her now, come all over me honey-“ he begs in your ear, his hips stuttering slightly and a madness overtakes you as you shove your fingers into his mouth and slip them down over your clit. He moans, pressing his palm into the hinge of your knee, somehow opening you up even more and then it’s there, in your fingers, in your limbs and in your very soul.

“Yes, that’s it baby, yes-“ he turns his thrusts into a grinding roll, and it’s with a horrified glee that you feel him paint your insides in his come. Your eyes glued to the place you’re joined, a curious thought springs up unbidden: nothing in the world could pull you away from him at that moment, with his cock inside and his hands on your body. That realization should scare you but it doesn’t. Would your mom bursting through the door make you come to your senses? Do you really want to know the answer to that question?

“Daddy… I can feel it really deep.” You say the words in what feels like a drunken stupor and he lets out a punched out groan, pulling out to watch as he drips out of the place you now know he fucking owns.

“That’s where it belongs, honey. Nice and deep.” He lowers your leg, but pulls you close and tucks you under his chin.

“Daddy loves you, you know that right? I’m so proud of you baby.”

You’re exhausted, but the guilt doesn’t come as quickly as the first time. It’s hard for it to make it through the comfort of the hot water, the cocoon of his arms, the steady reassuring thump of his heart under your cheek. The soft press of his lips to your forehead.

He stays. He washes your hair, cleans his come from between your legs and the fatherly lines of him blur even more.

It’s wrong. You know it. It’s obviously so fucking wrong. But it feels so right, it feels good, it feels safe for him to shield your eyes from the suds, for him to massage the knots out of your back, for him to kiss you soft, for his fingers to pluck at your soapy nipples.

When you’re done and in bed, you fall asleep, and dream of a steamy bathroom and soft, chapped lips at your temple.

–

The next morning finds you well-rested. That might actually bother you more than it should, comparatively speaking. That he would be the person to fuck you well enough to give you a good nights sleep seems like some cosmically cruel joke. Memories of your mother sleeping in on Saturdays after a night out with him make you groan into your pillow.

Any acceptance, any complicity was far and foreign in the unforgiving light of day. All of the comfort you’d felt in the tail-end of that unholy shower now angered you. It was manipulation, it was coercion, how could you do that? Let him in, in all of the different ways he’d managed to push inside you in the time since you’d been home, past your protective walls and quite literally between your fucking legs. It had to be something he’d done to make you crazy. A temporary insanity, surely,

You let out a huff, noting but almost unseeing the dust motes dancing in shafts of light coming in through the window. The guilt was heavy and hot in your belly, and not only because of the betrayal but because you knew, deep in your soul, that you would not–could not deny him. That was a fact.

The pillow at your side found itself pressed to your face to cover the groan of frustration at the cringy realization that you were just another woman with daddy issues.

Hours you laid there, torturing yourself with so many flavors of guilt.

Guilt at indulging, guilt at craving, guilt at knowing that you’d most likely doing it again, guilt at tentatively imagining other places you wanted him to fuck you. Guilt at the look of devotion on your mother’s face when he smiled at her. Guilt at the dark, cruel little thing that rejoiced at him wanting you so bad.

They were both sitting at the kitchen table when you finally came downstairs. Your stomach dropped at the sight of him sitting there, in his usual place with the paper in his hands. His face gave nothing away when he looked up at you, a talent he shouldn’t have.

“Good morning, sleep okay?” Your mom smiled, moving to the sink.

“Yeah, slept great.” You smile back and you almost feel Joel’s chest puff out. You ignore him.

“That’s good, why don’t you come do groceries with me? I’m going to do a big trip so you guys aren’t starving while I’m gone next week.”

She misses your frown as she empties the dishwasher. Something big wraps itself around you, something foreboding, something inescapable. His paper flicks almost imperceptibly in the corner of your eye and still, you ignore it.

“What do you mean?” You question her, but it’s almost prophetic, because you already know.

“I thought I’d told you, I have a work trip. A conference, because of the promotion. I’m leaving on Monday morning, and I’ll be gone until Thursday. I wanted to leave the fridge full so the two of you don’t have to worry. Want to come?”

She’s still focused on putting away the dishes when you finally meet his eye. Your stomach rolls at the wink he flashes you. You can feel his thoughts like a sunburn, skin tight with the burn of it, at the promise of all of the things you already know he’ll make you do.

The things you know, deep down, you’ll beg him for.

Fuck.

#joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel x y/n #joel x you #pedro pascal fanfiction #tw stepdad #daddy joel #daddy k!nk

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tea-party-with-drosera · 4 months ago

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Garp: ....Get out.

Ace:....

Garp: And who are you? My regret before I die?

Ace:....No.

Garp: Then what? A hallucination? Ha-ha.. Get off me. I haven't given up yet to apologize to my imagination.

The ghost slowly shook his head. The clapping on the floor increased for a moment, but soon almost subsided. It was black clumps falling.

Garp kept his eyes on the chains that were squeezing his chest.

Ace: I'm not an imagination... grandfather. It's me..

Garp: ...Why did you come, Ace?

Ace: Should I keep you company?.. Although I'd rather help, but..Luffy. He has already found out about what happened. He'll probably hurry over here.

Garp clenched his fists as hard as he could.

Garp: I don't need pity or help. It was..

The ghost's reply sounded like a glass bell:

Ace: For your family, which you're proud of, right?..

Garp: ....................

Ace slowly raised his head. Black streams flowed down his lips, chin, falling on his chest, in which there was a gaping hole. Only the fragments of the ribs were white and what was left of the vertebrae.

Ace: I don't blame you. And Luffy doesn't blame. Sorry.. That we've become your headache.

Garp: ...Still, regret.

Ace: How it looks depends on you... Survive. You and Luffy still have so much to do. And I'm just the past.. Please survive. And take care of yourself and Luffy. There is nothing more precious than a family in this rotten world...

For the rest of the night, the camera was illuminated by a dim white light. By morning, he had faded away and did not appear again.

Garp: ...I'm sorry.. Ace

#one piece #one piece fanart #portgas d. ace #monkey d. garp #vice admiral garp #garp #ace

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maniacwatchestheworld · 1 year ago

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DPxDC requested prompt #8

( @zylev-blog Heyo! I did the thing! Hope you like it! Obviously the Esparanto was run through Google Translate because like... Yeah... I don't know how to speak that... >.> )

Wulf couldn't remember how long he had been on the run for anymore. He had broken free from Walker's imprisonment, sure. But it wasn't long until someone else found and captured him. He wasn't sure who they were. Humans, certainly, but he couldn't understand the words they spoke, nor did they care to try to understand him. They had bound him in chains he could not break nor phase through, and somehow had been able to negate his abilities. It was only through luck that he managed to find an opening to be able to escape.

He had been running for a while now, but he knew they were always hot on his tail. He couldn't return to the Ghost Zone anymore. Too dangerous. Walker was surely eager for Wulf to return home and would certainly be well prepared for such an event by now. He would surely capture the runaway prisoner again if he did flee to the Ghost Zone, even if only for a moment, and he would have little chance of escaping the ghostly jailer again. No. He had to stay in the human realm. He didn't know how these humans were following and tracking him. But as he approached this massive and ominous city, he figured that this could finally be his chance to try and lose them.

At least he had successfully snuck his way into the city, but Wulf knew that he had to stay out of sight until he could find a proper place to rest. He had tried to hide his massive and inhuman build under clothes, but after a single accidental run-in with some little old lady who had clearly been startled and frightened by his size and appearance, he decided that it would probably be for the best if he stuck to abandoned alleyways and the sewers for now.

He didn't expect to find much down here in the sewers, especially not in the way of someplace to rest, so he thought that he was surely hallucinating when he came across what was seemingly something akin to a living room here in the depths of the sewers. He had been following an odd scent which was then followed by a warm light that seemed to dance only for him in the darkness, and it somehow led him here. This living room-like place was in a raised area of the sewer where it wouldn't get wet, even if the pipelines flooded. Arranged neatly throughout the room there was a couch, a television, a dining room table, and several chairs all of different kinds and makes scattered throughout the room. Attached to this room there was even an area where a fire blazed, keeping it and the rooms around it dry and much warmer than the rest of the sewer had been, and cooking utensils that had seemingly been set up to resemble something of a kitchen around the fire.

There were passageways deeper into this place, but Wulf was not about to dare to explore them. He had been running on empty for days now, and the apparent sight of this couch was too much for him to resist. Perhaps this was a trap set by the people pursuing him. But if that was the case, he would have to deal with that issue later. For now, he collapsed on the couch and let rest and unconsciousness take him.

"So you're finally awake?" A deep and growling voice greeted him the moment he shifted to open his eyes, but Wulf could not understand a word the voice said.

"Saluton? Pardonu, se mi entrudiĝis, mi nur bezonis iun lokon por ripozi…" Wulf began to sit up only for something to shove him back down again. The source of the voice, certainly.

"What was that? Couldn't make out a word you said there. Now tell me who you are, why you're here, and how you found my hideout."

It was only in that moment when Wulf remembered where he was and how he ended up here. He opened his eyes fully to look at person standing over him, but whatever he expected to see, he didn't expect... This...

There was a large... Creature...? Standing over him. It was standing on two legs like a man, but its skin was nothing like what he had seen on a human before. The creature was large, probably a similar size to Wulf himself, but was covered in a thick hide of scales. While it wore pants, it was not wearing a shirt, and it had the pointed teeth of a carnivore and eyes that ominously reflected the light of the fire.

"Uh... Saluton! Pardonu, kio estis tio denove? Pardonu, mi ne tre bone parolas la anglan. Se vi povus paroli iom pli malrapide, tiam eble mi povus… Ĉu vi diris, 'hideout'...? Pardonu, se mi entrudiĝis en vian kaŝejon, mi ne celis… Pardonu. Vi vere kaptis min senpripense ĉi tie. Lasu min rekomenci. Mi estas Wulf. Mi estas forkuranta kaj hazarde renkontis ĉi tiun lokon. Mi ne intencis transfuĝi. Kiel vi nomiĝas?"

The figure standing over him just stated blankly at Wulf. Clearly not understanding a word he said.

"Do mi opinias, ke vi ne parolas Esperanton…?" Great...

"So I take it that you're not from around here. No matter. I'm Killer Croc. And I'm a big deal 'round these parts! So who're you, and what's the deal with... All of this...?" The lizard man poked a finger at one of Wulf's arms. Wulf could gather that the stranger was asking him about his fur and who he was.

This time when Wulf tried to sit up, this 'Killer Croc' didn't stop him. However he did find that his wrists and ankles had been bound with some kind of rope. For now Wulf decided to ignore it. "You. Killer Croc?"

"Oh hey, look at that! You can understand me some!"

Wulf took the positive tone of the creature's voice as a yes. "Via nomo estas Killer Croc." Wulf motioned towards the creature. "Mia nomo estas Wulf."

"Wolf...? That's rather on the nose..."

"I. Wulf."

"Got it, got it! So what's with the fur? This just a costume for some weird gimmick, or are you just a mutant freak like me?" Killer Croc let out a small chuckle.

Wulf was having a hard time making out what Killer Croc was saying through his accent, but given the tone of a question and how he pointed at him, Wulf figured that the lizard man was asking what he was. "Mi estas estaĵo de la Fantoma Zono. Tiel mi aspektas… Uh... I ghost from Ghost Zone."

"Ghost...? You're supposed to be a ghost...? I've never heard of ghosts lookin' like you before!" The lizard man laughed.

In response, Wulf turned his wrists and ankles intangible and phased through the ropes binding him before holding the loose ropes out to the lizard man.

Killer Croc was taken aback by this for a moment before grinning. "Alright. That's a neat little trick there. What're you? A criminal like me?"

"Criminal?" Now that was a word Wulf understood all too well. "You criminal? Hiding?"

Killer Croc let out a light laugh. "You really don't know anything about this town do you? Yeah, I'm a criminal." He nodded. "You?"

Wulf felt a little more relaxed. "Yes. I criminal ankaŭ."

"Well then. I suppose that I can let you stay for now, Wulf. It's good t'meetcha. I'm sure we have a lot to talk about." The lizard man held out his hand to shake. Wulf wasn't entirely certain what Killer Croc had said, but happily took the man's hand and shook it anyway, a big grin on his face.

#dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc prompt #dc x dp #dp x dc #dc x dp crossover #dcxdp #dc x dp prompt #dpxdc prompts #wulf #killer croc #waylon jones

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browneyesandhair · 6 months ago

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Non-Exhaustive List of Soulmate Fics: Klaroline Pt 1

Okay, I'm bored so I'm compiling my favorite soulmate fics. Here's the Klaroline edition:

Runaway by Cupcakemolotov

Summary:

Caroline has been running from her soul mate since she found him standing over her father’s corpse.

Hunt You Slow by Cupcakemolotov

Summary:

Discovering that the scourge of the supernatural was her soulmate would be enough to send any girl running.

At Horizon's Edge by Cupcakemolotov

Summary:

Sometimes when a girl goes on a shopping trip to pick up a new pair of boots at the local, and somewhat hostile, human space station, she accidentally aids and abets a prison break instead. What happens in the black really doesn't stay in the black.

The Howling by Cupcakemolotov

Summary:

Caroline's day goes from bad to worse to insane in a matter of moments.

Written On Your Skin by LaLainaJ

Summary:

It's a rather boring day, at the flower shop Caroline owns. And then The Original Hybrid walks in, and changes her life by uttering a few small words. They're words Caroline knows, words she sees on her skin, every day in the mirror. She's thought about her soulmate, who wouldn't have? But he's the last thing she ever would have expected, and the last person she should want. But she can't quite bring herself to deny their connection.

The Air We Breathe by slstmaraudersjple

Summary:

When Caroline learns that her soulmate is the thousand year old Original Hybrid, she cries, because she knows her world is ending. When Klaus learns that his soulmate is a baby vampire, he is intrigued, because he has waited his entire life for her. Soulmates AU.

Even When We're Ghosts by LaLainaJ

Summary:

He'd just been planning to collect his doppelganger, hadn't anticipated such strong resistance. Now, trapped in his wolf form, until he meets his soulmate, Klaus seeks alternative solutions. He doesn't believe in soulmates. Until Caroline Forbes crosses his path. Caroline thinks she's hallucinating (note to self, don't accept moonshine from old ladies) until her life starts getting... weird. The Mikaelsons aren't great at subtle.

the fate makes for a lousy poet. by for_darkness_shows_the_stars

Summary:

It is not unheard of. Soulmates born too far apart to ever meet. Caroline did her research thoroughly. It’s just rare. And for all that she’d known her entire life that her fated other half was dead long, long before she was even a gleam in her mother’s eye … it’s unfair. . Everyone is born with a soulmate. It just so happens that a millennium divides Caroline from hers.

I Wish I Was (I Wish I Was) by dressedupasmyself

Summary:

“I think that even if you find your soulmate, there’s some measure of choice involved. Maybe some people just make the wrong choices.” “Good,” Caroline said. “What if my soulmate is, like, the worst? I wouldn’t want to be stuck with him forever. I want some kind of choice.” “But that’s the beauty of it,” Elena sounded wistful, “Your soulmate might be awful to everyone else, but they’re the best for you.” Caroline scoffed. “Okay, whatever.”

Passing Notes in Secrecy by perfectpro

Summary:

Caroline doesn’t remember not having a soulmate. Her mom says that the drawings started when she was small, just a baby. So he’s clearly older than her. She doesn’t mind, thinks that it will probably be nice to be with someone who has a little more life experience. She thinks she's one of the lucky ones.

The Raven Hunter by LynyrdLionheart

Summary:

There is a killer hunting frat boys on campus. The Raven Hunter is a terrible name... not that Caroline has a reason to care or anything.

a part of something that’s bigger (than me) by Issay

Summary:

In the beginning she's a plaything, the mean girl brought low, made and unmade by decisions of others and Caroline never receives apologies for most of it. Elena fights for her happy ending and through all of her losses and dark despair she is never alone. Bonnie wins her freedom, powerful in her own right. Caroline is left with uncertainty and obligations. No, the story isn't kind to Caroline. So let's change the story.

oh there you are (i've been looking for you) by breakfasttako

Summary:

Caroline was born a fated one, which means two things: 1) She has a soulmate 2) She's going to die tragically young

What's a Little Ink? by Writerwithagoal

Summary:

What would you get as a tattoo if you knew it would appear on your soulmate?

Hallowed Ground by KiryTheStitchWitch

Summary:

Caroline's trip to Ireland was not going the way it was supposed to. She was expecting stories and myths, and instead finds that some legends are a lot more real than she could have imagined. And hot. Really hot.

Inadvisable by MissNMikaelsonSummary:Everyone has soul words. The first thing your soulmate will ever say etched somewhere on your body. Caroline always dreaded meeting hers. She had never imagined this though; she had never imagined him. He had all but given up. Just a one shot for one of my favorite pairings.

Midnattsol by BelleMorte180

Summary:

The man laying before her was her soulmate, someone who should have died a thousand years ago. Written for AU-Season week three

Ship of Bones by Cupcakemolotov

Summary:

When humanity struggles to maintain its racial identity in the cold reaches of space, Caroline Forbes has hidden the gifts her alien mother left her. But secrets aren't secrets forever.

Familiar Taste of Poison by Cupcakemolotov

Summary:

A great love isn't always a blessing.

Holding Out for a Hero by slstmaraudersjple

Summary:

Klaus would totally be able to focus on his plans for world domination… if only his soulmate would stop singing that thrice-damned song. But then there's silence, and Klaus grows worried. Soulmate AU where songs that one’s soulmate sings gets stuck in one’s head. CW/TW: descriptions of Caroline being abused by Damon but nothing graphic/explicit.

#the vampire diaries #tvd #caroline forbes #klaus mikaelson #klaroline #caroline x klaus #caroline/forbes #rec list #soulmate aus #fandom soulmates #browneyes shares fanfic #recs

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typing-catastrophe · 5 months ago

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new fic idea alert! ford's sleep deprivation causing him to "hallucinate" reader

what actually happens is that he can see another dimension that overlaps with is own (due to bills mind fuckery or multiversal travel shenanigans) in which r is trapped

r shows similarities to ghosts and/or demons (like bill)

i don't have a specific idea for a storyline just yet, but it's gonna be something along the lines of:

ford thinks he's hallucinating

r convincing ford they're real

ford not trusting r, but somehow ending up helping them

angst in form of ford harming himself by not sleeping because he wants to see r and r wanting him to take care of himself and sleep, although that will result in him not being able to see and communicate with r

please please send any ideas u have for this fic, i try my best to get writing this (tho currently i am working on several other ideas i'm so sorry; also couldn't yesterday because that day was busyyy)

Edit: find the masterlist here

#gravity falls #gf #ford pines #stanford pines #stanford x reader #stanford pines x reader #sleep deprivation #my writing #hallucination!reader story #sleep deprived ford

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mj-iza-writer · 4 months ago

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Whumptober Day 4

Hallucinations - Hypnosis - Sensory Deprivation - "You're still alive in my Head" (Billy Lockett, More.)

I don't see a lot of Ghost Whump, I love hauntings so much.

Whumper had been arrested, and was now awaiting court dates. An investigation was being conducted so he had a while to wait.

Police had been tipped off about violent noises coming from Whumper's home.

Police got there as quickly as they could, but it seemed to be too late for Whumpee.

Whumpee lay in a puddle of their own blood. Stab wounds covered their body... some more critical than others.

Whumper sat on the couch watching the body... knife still in hand.

Police made the arrest... Whumper went quietly.

"I'll have to figure out who tipped off the police", Whumper frowned as they waited in solitary, "if I ever get out of here."

They were deemed too dangerous to be anywhere else.

A flash of something caught Whumper's attention, but it was gone as quick as it was there.

"What was that?", Whumper frowned, "it almost looked like.... nah! I'm hallucinating."

That night, Whumper tried to sleep. It wasn't easy as the lights were left on.

Something moved from one side of their cell to the other and seemed to disappear into the wall.

"Whumpee?", Whumper jumped up.

Throughout the night Whumper had several nightmares. By morning they were rocking back and forth in the corner of the cell.

They could barely eat breakfast, but with the threat of force feeding they gagged down the food.

Solitary confinement was boring. The guards didn't interact often enough.

The guards knew what Whumper did. All of them agreed they belonged on death row.

The only time guards would interact with Whumper was when they would cry out for help because someone was in their cell with them.

The guards figured Whumper was losing their mind. They showed no sympathy though. Whumper didn't deserve it.

That night Whumper tried to rest, they were lightly sleeping when they had this dream.

Whumpee stood in the cell with them. Still covered in the stab wounds. Blood dripped from their body. Black goop flooded from their eyes like they had been crying constantly. Whumpee was talking... no yelling... but no sound. Whumpee approached the bed, something metal suddenly glistened in their hand. Whumpee lifted their arms in preparation to stab.

Whumper jolted awake before the knife went into them.

They yelled for the guards.

"What do you want?", a guard approached.

"Please I need help, they-theyre haunting me", Whumper gasped, "I killed them and they're haunting me. Tr-trying to kill me."

"For what you did to, I might agree with them", the guard chuckled, "I don't think you deserve sympathy or forgiveness, but why don't you try apologizing to the ghost."

Whumper nodded weakly, this haunting was seriously affecting them. They never felt so tired or scared in their life.

Whumper looked around the cell, "Whumpee I'm sorry", they begged, "I'm so sorry. Please forgive me", tears fell from their eyes as they pleaded.

The rest of the night, Whumper could hear Whumpee's yelling ringing in their ear.

They were fairly certain they didn't receive forgiveness from Whumpee.

The next night though was quiet, Whumper was even able to get a full night of sleep. The first since they were imprisoned.

Whumpee's eyes fluttered open weakly. They were too tired to care about where they were.

A gentle hand rested on Whumpee's arm.

Whumpee took in how warm it felt.

"Where am I?", Whumpee whispered.

"You are in the hospital. Do you remember anything?", a voice came from beside them. They were too weak to look around.

"I, um, I got stabbed.... I think", Whumpee whispered, "I thought I died. I was waiting for my body to catch up with me."

"You were very close", the voice comforted, "it took a lot of people. Highly trained people to get you to this point. You've been in a coma for a few days just so your body could heal."

"Whumper's in prison?", Whumpee turned toward the voice.

"Yes", the person nodded, "don't move a lot, you are still in bad shape. How did you know."

"It feels like I was there with them", Whumpee frowned, "who are you?"

"I'm Caretaker, I was put in charge of taking care of you for as long as you need me to", Caretaker smiled, but was startled by this. They recalled the guards mentioning Whumper's issues.

"Whumper doesn't know you're alive currently. We want to surprise them at their court hearing", Caretaker stood, "I will tell you more later. For right now, you need to rest. Here take a drink."

"Okay", Whumpee nodded, "thankyou."

A week went by. Besides boredom, Whumper was very happy to be rid of the ghostly visitor.

They were also elated to hear their first court date was scheduled soon.

Whumper sat in the courtroom, heavily shackled. Their lawyer was talking with him about a few things before the hearing started.

Whumper watched as a bigger computer was set in the witness stand. It was turned to the judge and jury first.

"Can I say a cuss word?", a small, weak voice came from the computer.

"For ehat you've been through, I will allow", the judge winked at the screen and watched as the computer was turned to the crows.

Caretaker was sitting in front of the judge as well. A stand in for Whumpee because of how weak Whumpee still was. All their notes neatly set to read over when their time came to talk.

Caretaker side eyed Whumper as the realization hit Whumper.

Whumper went pale.

"I lived Mother Fucker", Whumpee stated as strongly as they could.

The judge couldn't help but chuckled.

Without hearing anything else the judge slammed their gavel on the desk.

"Guilty", the judge stated.

Whumper was zoned out at the point.

Whumper sat in the bed of the death row floor.

"Whu-Whumpee lived?", was all Whumper would whisper as they slowly went mad, "Whu-Whumpee lived?"

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all.

@villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived

@sacredwrath @porschethemermaid

@monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz

@bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13

@notpeppermint @cyborg0109

@idontreallyexistyet

@painfulplots @whumpbump

@everythingsscary @skittles-the-whumpee

@expressionless-fr @theforeverdyingperson

@legendarydelusiongoatee @candleshopmenace

@whumpanthems @lavndvrr

@ivymyers @starfields08000

@a-living-canvas @lumpofsand

@watermeezer @indigoviolet311

@whumpy-mountains @3-2-whump

@risk606 @electrons2006

@paperprinxe @whumprince

@kaz-of-crows @mis-graves

@decaffeinatedtimetraveler94 @sausages-things

@ragin-cajun-fangirl @isikedmyself878

@daffyduckcommittedtaxfraud @valravnthefrenchie

@glennemerald @jasperthecapser

@does-directions @deafeninglittlecrown

#whumptober2024 #no.1 #no.4 #stabbing #imprisonment #oc #whump storytelling #trigger attempted murder #whump community #whump stuff #whump writing #whump ideas #whumpee #whump #whump scenario #caretaking #whumper

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samandcolbyfan · 10 months ago

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Colby x ghost| reader (part 2)

Colby knew that having an attachment shouldn't be something to be happy about and yet he was. He wanted to find out more about you. He was researching anything he could about you and asked you more specific questions when you appeared on their investigations.

Eventually he was able to find out where you were buried and went there with Sam as his support of course. They found your grave that had flowers next to it and a photo of you that was taken shortly before you died.

Colby couldn't stop looking at you.

“ She was so young and so pretty..she had a life in front of her”

he was devastated about your death even though he personally never met you. But the stuff he found out while talking to you with the equipment was enough for him to like you.

Another haunted place Colby seeked out you specifically, when they were doing the Estes method.

“ Y/n I know you're with us again, I know what happened to you was not fair and horrible and as much as I like having you around. You can leave and find peace if you want. You don't have to be attached, you are free to make you your own choice”

you were moved by his care for you, you could see a bright light in front of you luring you in. You moved towards it but looked back at the boys, at Colby. You didn't want to leave him. As a ghost you weren't supposed to feel anything but you did. You liked Colby. You wished You could have met him in person.

After what Colby said during the method you didn't appear anymore and he figured you actually left. He was sad, he missed you but hoped you were happy and okay wherever you were.

Then one day he went hiking to clear his mind and ended up on his favorite spot. But once he got there he noticed someone was there. Nobody came here for years so why now.

When the person turned around and smiled at him he thought he was hallucinating. It wasn't possible.

“ Y/n?”

“ Nice to finally meet you Colby”...

You wanted a part two of this and something with a ghost reader again so I came up with this. Hope so like it and keep giving me suggestions please 🧡

@reignsboy19 @lemonnightmare @cait-with-luv

#colby brock #sam golbach #sam and colby #sam and colby x reader #colby x reader #colby x you #colby x y/n #haunted #ghost reader #ghost #Colby x ghost reader #requested

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nocturnesanomaly · 4 months ago

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Chapter 8: Does it still hurt?

(Series Masterlist: Divine Violence) (Read on Ao3) (Inspired Playlist)

Series: The Divine Violence - chapter 8: Does it still hurt?

Wordcount: 5,9k

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x John "Soap" MacTavish x Gn!Reader

TW: (View masterlist for full series tw and tags) - DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, Religious Trauma, PTSD, Flashbacks, Hallucinations, Anxiety, Paranoia, Disturbing themes, Panic attack, Alcohol

Description: Simon takes you to the doctor in the morning, while Soap takes you to a bar in the evening.

A/N: My wrist is starting to flare up again, this shit is so hard to manage, ugh :( but I finally got the chapter finished. Almost ten chapters, I'm rather impressed with myself how far I've gotten already. My usual friend who reads through my stuff was unfortunately unavailable this time around, so I hope it's not too bad. Hope you all enjoyed <3

[Prev chapter / Next Chapter]

The sterile smell of the medical office is enough to make you want to collapse into a ball of an overstimulated mess. You felt guarded the second Simon had dragged you out of the house this morning, and here at the clinic it was no different.

The office itself is cosier than you'd thought it to be, there hadn't been a lot in the waiting room, and even the receptionist was exceedingly nice. And still, you couldn't find it in your heart to be as nice back to her. Your tone earned you a glare from Simon, but the man wasn’t one to talk, he hated trips like these as much as you.

"There we go...you're all good, let me just go finalize your file, and you'll be good to go," the doctor smiles at you. He'd been nothing but gentle and caring ever since you entered his office. Not that he had much of a choice with the imposing figure that was Simon, and your own death glares sent his way.

He rises from his chair and leaves the two of you alone in the medical office.

You slide your legs off the medical table, getting back up into a sitting position so you could shrug your pant leg back down. As you had suspected, you really hadn't needed to go here, but Price's insistence was something you couldn't get around.

As long as you took it easy, didn't do too much running, then it'd heal just fine with no extra help.

"I don't like him," you mumble to Simon when he hands you, your boots.

"You don't like any doctors" he grumbles right back at you.

You give him a glare that he remains unfazed to. "Am I wrong?" he asks with a quirked eyebrow, a knowing look on his face that made something inside your heart twitch.

He was wearing a black surgical mask; one Soap had shoved in his hand before he left the house. Price kept on insisting that he not be an idiot, and actually try to blend in a bit more. There hadn't been much protest from him, but he did seem more tense without the usual skull mask covering his features.

It was easier to hide behind a mask. To not let people see any humanity in you when you take them down. Every cruel act would be confined to the mask, it would a separation of who you truly are.

They had tried to force a mask upon you, create an identity they could shape and mould. They had failed with the mask, so they took something much more personal from you.

His mask was a choice.

Yours hadn't been.

Carved with tooth and nail, wooden and strong, it had been strapped to your face. Only a knife could cut it away the meaning it held even after you put it to rest. You could almost imagine it, the flesh peeling down from your face as you try to cut away the sins beneath. You could cut all you wanted; no amount of blood would wash you clean.

It would be so easy too.

The doctor had so many tools in here, each and every one could be used if you knew how, and you did.

Cut cut cut

Wash away the sins

"Spider?"

Ignore him

Your attention is brought back to him. It still feels foreign, that nickname on his lips so easily, as if he'd never stopped. It sounded different, with his voice being deeper, more brute.

He always kept his voice a tad quieter when he addressed you, compared to how he addressed someone such as Gaz. It was different, yet still lacked the warmth he held for Soap.

You try to see past the cover of his face, but it all remains hidden to you. Even with the smaller mask. You should be able to see his face, the smooth skin beneath, his locks of hair. Instead, it's all covered in black shadows, creating a terrifying display of limbs and mass.

He reaches for you again, a steady hand to support you down from the table. You flinch away.

He tucks his hand back, crossing his arms in front of his chest. A defensive manner you'd say, but there are more layers to it. He lets out a deep-rooted sigh and turns away from you, picking up the backpack he'd brought.

Essentials, Price had said when he shoved it into his arms.

Essentials for what you can't quite imagine, you weren't planning on being out long. Simon unzips the bag, placing it on the table next to you to rummage through it. He picks out a wrapped sandwich, shoves it into your hands so you have no choice but to take it. He gives you a pointed look.

"You didn't eat breakfast."

"I wasn't hungry," you protest, but by the growl of your stomach, you aren't given much choice than to accept it. He keeps staring at you, and you realize a little late that he intends for you to eat it now. With a huff, you open it up and take a bite. It's actually not too bad.

The doctor comes back in soon after, forcing your muscles to tense up once more. He gives you a few painkillers, on the house he says, despite how you protest to it. Simon takes the bag for you, probably to make sure you actually kept eating your meal.

"Bloody hell...cold is starting to get annoying," Simon grumbles when the two of you exit the clinic.

"At least this place actually gets snow...most places I've been to recently have just been cold and wet...no snow," you tell him quietly while looking over at a young family of four going further down the street, probably on their way to the market.

"If we're lucky we'll have a white Christmas here too" Simon says in the same grumpy tone. He didn't seem all that excited about it. Maybe he'd rather be at home, and not out here. You'd understand that, not that you had anything to look forward to yourself.

"Lucky?" you raise a brow he doesn't get to see, your attention still darting between the people walking by and in and out of stores.

"Gotta look for the positives Spider..."

Simon gains your attention back with a wave of his hand, he gestures towards the store just opposite of the clinic.

"We should pop in before we head back...need a couple of things for dinner," He starts walking without much of a confirmation, forcing you to pick up the pace to keep up.

"Didn't Soap say he had a surprise for dinner?"

He lets out a rumble of a chuckle and shakes his head, "Yeah but something tells me it's not going to include a lot of actual dinner"

Soap has an eager smile when he leads the flock of you to his most recent discovery. He'd insisted the lot of you needed even a moments' relaxation, to do an honoured tradition within the group. It had been in your suspicions, but somehow you still find yourself slightly disappointed that it's just a bar.

"Beautiful corner piece of the town...or well...that is what ah was told," he takes the step down to the dark wood door. He opens it paying no mind to it's creaking in complaint; quiet music lures the lot of you closer to the dim lighted bar. He gestures with his head towards you, beckoning you inside.

You step forward with your question as you descend behind him, "are you sure this is really a good idea-"

An abrupt hand grabs your arm and saves you what could've been a nasty trip down the extra two stairs that comes after the door. "Easy! Watch your step," Soap chuckles, quickly letting go of your arm when you find your footing and take the last steps fully into the bar.

The rest follow close behind, some more eager than others at the prospect of a drink and some downtime without the stress. Someone answers your question, but you don't hear it. You're too busy looking at where Soap's touch had been, as if you expect burn marks to suddenly appear.

Three of the men walk past you, not minding your little stop in the middle of everything. They go to find a table in the back, taking in the rest of the bar. It's small and quaint, not room for many, but not a lot seems to even frequent this place.

You feel Simon's looming presence behind you. He's refusing to move past you, intent on not letting you be the last, for whatever reason.

You follow after the others. No need to hog the space and attract more attention than you undoubtedly already do.

The booth they've found sits up against the wall, close enough to the bar but also in the lower light of the back. Price and Gaz have taken a seat inward, Soap takes a seat at the edge next to Gaz and Simon next to Price.

You stop for a moment, contemplate where to squeeze yourself in. Soap moves further in and makes space for you next to him. You sit down with little other choice, but quietly appreciative of not sitting in-between the burly men. There was space to make a quick exit should you ever need it.

Simon's eyes meet yours briefly before you rip them away, putting your attention to Gaz and Soap who are already collecting the group's orders to go get them all some drinks.

"And what about you, Spider?" Gaz asks, an excited smile on his lips; he has a pretty glint in his eyes.

Of course. Alcohol.

When was the last time you drank any? Hard to say.

"Uh...yeah, whatever you're having," your mind is only been half there since the morning. Your thoughts occupied, as they often are. You survey the area, looking for the familiar faces, but your own mind sabotages your attempts.

The shadows are persistent.

You could only hope that the alcohol would silence them, even if only somewhat.

This was going to be an interesting night, that was for sure.

He set off enough time. A proper goodbye.

It's time to go. Simon knows it's time, the only way out of here is waiting for him, yet he can't get himself to move. The suns coming down, and you're still not here. He looks at his watch, the ticker going at a steady rate. It couldn't be his timing that was wrong. Despite your usual punctuality, you're late. 5 minutes he can handle, 10 even, but you're still not here and it's been 20 minutes.

And you were missing it.

Maybe you were still angry with him. Still too huddled up in your own thoughts of childish betrayal. He understood why you were upset, but he didn't understand why you were so hell-bent on resenting him for it.

He was getting his way out; you should be happy, right? It's what the both of you have been wanting for years. Since you were little kids and barely even knew each other. It was his only way out; he wasn't going to pass on it to keep you comfortable.

He would come back. He'd swear it to you, to any god that's never answered his prayers. He'll come back for you, to take you with him. When he's got enough money, a place of his own and a secure way out. He'll come save you.

He'll promise it as many times as he needs to, until you believe him, until you have enough reassurance to wait just a little longer.

But he can't wait for you forever.

He lets out a sigh, tugging his coat closer around himself. It's getting colder, the night air can be relentless.

"Where are you, spider..."

The graveyard looks lonely without you. It's hard to believe this is the place you've spent so many years, a morbid refuge only the two of you truly know. He could walk around blindfolded here if he had to, one time you even made him for a fun game. Perhaps it wasn't the most respectful thing for the dead, but you two kept them company in their cold, dark graves.

You'd all end up in the ground eventually, some sooner than others.

He had to go.

If you wouldn't come to him, he'd come to you.

He'd walked the way to your place countless times. Had sneaked around just the way you showed him. A rule the two of you had whenever you didn't come, typically you'd gotten grounded, because you never missed your hangouts, never. You showed him just where to step to not be seen, just where to hit the window to your bedroom to get it loose. A faulty lock that never got replaced.

He used his own precision to crawl into your room with as little noise as possible. A skill he hoped to refine when he got his place in the military.

He did it like clockwork, crawled inside like it was nothing.

But you weren't in your room, either.

It's not often Simon allows tears to rise to his eyes these days, but this hurt. It really fucking hurt. He was going to miss you way more than you knew, and you didn't even seem to care. Where the hell were you.

There had never been a whole lot to look at in your room. It was pretty bare-bones, always neat and clean because there were consequences if it wasn't. Too white and bare for his own taste as well. He might not be much better in decorating, but your room still seemed to be overkill in the amount of nothing it exuded.

Simon sat down on your bed, wincing at the creaking springs. He could only hope your absence meant that of your families as well. They'd never quite taken much of a liking to him, something about his lack of faith, something about his lack of showing it, or just about the family he came from. The reasoning never stayed the same for long.

"Oh, spider...what am I going to do with you..." he runs a hand over his face, following an exhausted huff.

He couldn't ignore it any longer. The time ticked on, and he didn't have forever. He didn't time, he never had enough time.

In a last effort to contact you, he grabs a page of your notebook, scribbling down a parting message for you. Hopefully you'd find it, hopefully you wouldn't hate him or blame him for how this is turning out. He tried.

He places it on top of your pillow, staring at it longer than he should. He knows he should get a move on, that the world won't wait for him, but part of him can't get himself to move. He still hopes you'll walk through the door any moment now. That you can get some time together, even if it's just a few seconds so he can kiss your lips and apologize a million times over.

The sound of the opening door makes his heart skip a beat; he turns around with a haste he didn't have before. He's disappointed to see it isn't you, only to be panicked at the knowledge that it really isn't you.

Simon is frozen in place, looking at the unfamiliar adult before him. He's got a piercing gaze, there's no question in his eyes, as if he already knows who and why Simon is here.

Simon's eyes dart up to the man's hair, something unnatural about the blonde colour, too bright and too slicked back to give off any comforting vibes.

"They're not here," his voice is icy cold, stating the obvious.

"I know-"

"You should leave, they don't need you here."

Simon's brow furrows at his words, taking offence to the near insult thrown his way. Who the hell even was this guy, and why did he care that much. One look at the time, and he reminds himself that it's not a fight he has the time for, not even to question the man.

"Yeah...whatever... I'm leaving...tell them I'm sorry I missed them," he walks towards the door, intent on leaving on more conventional means than he came in. He stops In front of the man, only now really realizing how big he was compared to Simon himself.

"Excuse me," he tries to walk past, but only receives another glare from him.

The message doesn't need to be spoken aloud for Simon to get it, but it doesn't make him any more happy about it. "Bloody hell, man, are you serious," he complains and crosses his arms.

"Get out."

The air has a crisp sense of the oncoming dark winter. Hell, it was practically in the middle of winter already by all the damned snow that just kept falling everywhere. It made for pretty scenery but came along with a cold Simon wasn't a fan of.

Still, it wouldn't keep him from ruminating by himself, smoke in hand, as he took time away from the stuffy atmosphere the bar started to adopt.

Unfortunately, Simon has a habit of stewing on old memories when he's left to his own devices. Typically, he goes over things in his past, painful memories like the good ones. Of his younger days in the military, of when he met Price, of how he became ghost, newer additions being his early relationship with Johnny and how it's evolved.

He finds it gives him a sense of peace to ruminate over his choices, whether good or bad. To analyse situations and prepare for similar ones, no matter the circumstance or person. Though ever since being shipped out here, his thoughts seem to only ever be on who his spider used to be.

Trying to piece together the puzzle of your mind and figure out how you became so. It's one of the greater puzzles of the universe. At least to him.

He exhales the smoke from his lungs one final time as his thoughts come to a close over the last memory. How he left you behind. Not a fond memory, and even then, his mind is a muddy walk to go through.

He pulls his cigarette away from his lips, lets the smoke run its course. There's not much left of it, and it was his last light. He'd be damned if he didn't savour it. He could likely bait Price into buying some more for him when he makes his own run to town for more cigars. If they even have any. The captain did have a particular taste, as much in people as his smoking habits.

This place hadn't been much help when it came to gathering intel. He was getting restless in the lack of progress. He knew it to be a delicate process, but normally he'd been able to probe somebody about something by now. He'd have a goal to focus on, instead he's left to wondering about too many things.

The only thing that was keeping him in somewhat of an amenable mood this evening was the towns’ ability to provide a decent drink.

If he was being fair to his own faults, he'd even allow himself to acknowledge how nice it was to be out with the entire team again, with you again. He'd been surprised to see you eager enough for a drink, finishing it off even faster than Johnny or Gaz.

It was nice to see you comfortable, to see you smile. Even if the alcohol likely had a part in getting you to be more open to them. You got a lot more daring, that was for sure, a lot more talkative. Not many of your stories made much sense, changing course and directive half-way through, but you did speak rather fondly of the old team you'd been with a few years ago.

Even if he hadn't been in on your life in a long time, he was glad you'd found comfort in others when he wasn't there to provide it. Even if you had changed, deep down you still kept the same quirks from when you were young, though of course more muted.

He exhales the smoke from his lungs along with a deep sigh. He wanted to get closer to you, but it felt like an impossible prospect. He didn't understand how Johnny made it look so easy, he could be at the ends of the earth, and he'd still make friends wherever that would be.

His attention is lured back to the door at the sound of the little bell ringing above it.

He watches as you come stumbling out of the little bar, almost tripping over your own feet as you take the three steps up. He raises a brow at your form, you definitely hadn't looked that drunk when he was in there. What the hell did you drink.

"You alright there, Spider?"

You garble out some nonsense before coming to stand beside him, leaning all of your weight back on the wall behind you. "Yeah...M'fine..." you said in the most unconvincing voice he's ever heard. He keeps his eyes on you, surveying your expressions. He wasn't about to let you barf all over him.

"You know... I wish I'd found you a bit earlier...you're all so nice..." you let out a little huff as if you'd been running for a while. You let out a quiet giggle, something he truly doesn't think he's ever heard you do, at least not like that.

"Yeah... It's good to have you back, Spider..." he almost allows himself to spout out how much he's missed you. It hangs in the back of his throat, right along with his emotions. It's not the time. He doubts you'll even remember this conversation in the morning. But maybe that was all the more reason to do it.

"Why did you even join up, spider?"

You don't answer at first, and he thinks that maybe you've already clocked out mentally for the night. Your head turns to look at him, something unreadable in your expression. "You never came back..." you sound sad, small in your voice.

His brows furrow, his mouth slightly open before he snaps back to reality and takes another puff of his cigarette. He realizes this is probably the first time you've seen this much of his face without the mask. He'd been lucky enough that it was late and not many around to stare at his ugly mug...but you.

He feels out of place under your gaze, an odd need to crawl away and hide in the darkest corner he can find. It's a foreign feeling with you.

"Figured I needed to do something with my life, and it's not like I had many other opportunities waiting for me back home," you turn your head away once again. For a moment, you sound completely sober, the conversation doing more for you than any amount of cold air ever could.

Then again, the more you seem to stand there, the more your grimace widens. In a swift motion, you push yourself away from the wall, putting your weight back onto your unsteady feet. You push past him, to the edge of the building, the little alley gap in-between.

"Hey where are you going!" he shouts out confused. You turn the corner of the building, disappearing into the darkness. His brows furrowed as he took another puff of his cigarette, hoping you'd emerge shortly after. Maybe you just needed to walk it off?

When he hears the horrid sound of your retching, he knew he was wrong.

"Oh, bloody hell," he throws his cigarette to the ground, crushing it against the pavement before hurrying over to turn the same corner. Surely enough, there you are. Bucked over and barfing up your insides, which seems to be more stomach acid and alcohol than any food.

His movements are as gentle as he can make them, not keen on having you flinch away from help when you're like this. He places his hand on your back, the other supporting your shoulder so you don't fall over. You don't seem to react at all.

"Steaming Jesus, ah was wondering where ye ran off to."

Simon turns his head, seeing Johnny come closer to the two of them. "How much did they drink..." Simon grumbles in a worried tone. When you seem finish puking, he helps you back up, steadier on your feet this time. With a groan, you lean back against the wall behind you.

"Ffffuck..."

"Didn't think ye drank that much...don't hold ye alcohol too well," Johnny gives you a cheeky grin.

You tip your head forward, losing your balance like a newborn foal. Simon is quick to act, gently cupping your cheek to hold up your head, so you don't hurt yourself. "You need to get back to the house and sleep this off..." he didn't think your tolerance would be this shit, but he doesn't recall you ever having much of a tolerance to begin with.

"Help me with them, will ya" Simon moves your arm, helping you use him as support. Johnny takes your other side, helping you lean on them both before they embark on the way back. They help you stumble back out of the alley, where they're met with the questioning stare of Kyle.

He lets out a low chuckle at the sight, "time to go, then?"

He'd found it amusing then, more frustrating now. "Spider- no- do not-" he puts a firm hand on your waist so you don't trip over your own legs down out of the car. You lean all your weight on him, and he has to do a mental double take to not keel over right along with you.

Getting you inside is a struggle and a half. Simon isn't sure where your little spouts of energy are coming from, but they surge through you at a random pace. You're almost worse than when you had just gotten freshly drunk in the bar itself.

"No, no... we need to.... ffgh-" you try to tell him something, but he doesn't have half a mind to listen when he needs to get you inside as quickly as possible. You refused to wear a jacket, and he will not have you freezing out here without you even realizing it.

Johnny comes up next to him, helps walk you inside, despite your little protests and seeming urgency to be somewhere else. "C'mon, let's get ye inside" he hooks an arm around yours and together the two of them manage to get you in.

The way to the bedroom is just as annoying and long as it was to get you to the car and back home in the first place. And then as the three of you reach the door, Price calls Johnny away intending on talking to him about something important, leaving Simon to bring you in and into your bed.

"There we go," Simon huffs as he gets you to lean on him again so he can close the door with a click. He tries to walk you in the right direction, but fails to steer you towards your own bed, charting a course for the one he and Johnny shared instead.

It didn't matter too much for one night, the three of you could switch if needed.

"C'mon love onto...the...bed," he manages to walk you backwards until the back of your knees meet with the bed and makes you fall down on to it with a huff. You mumble something incoherent again, writhing a little bit until you seem to deflate on the mattress.

Simon lets out a deep huff, standing back up to look at your dishevelled form. He'd dealt with Johnny drunk enough times by now, but at least he wasn't trying to run in ten different directions as if you were either late to something or running for your life.

Seeing as you'd clearly be incapable of taking care of yourself before you fell asleep, he might as well get to it. "Okay Spider...let's get you ready for bed," he mumbles and crouches down to take off your shoes, one and then the other.

"Mh...no..." you writhe a little bit.

"It's alright...you can sleep in a minute," Simon assures you, but he's not entirely sure if you even hear him. He walks over to your closet, rummaging through for something else to wear. He's stunned by how little you have, it's barely a hunt for it, it's right there within eye height.

He brings the other set of clothes over to your bed, not paying too much attention to your mumbling. He leans back again, running a hand over his face. How exactly was he supposed to do this. He doubted that you would change clothes if he asked you.

"M'sorry love but...well...you gotta," he lets his words trail out realizing you were definitely not listening to any words of assurance he was trying to give you.

Just gotta get it over with, and quick, you were starting to rile up again, and he wasn't about to go chasing after you again if you got another sprout of energy.

He leans over you and unbuttons your pants, but he hesitates as he pulls down your zip. Something in him feels awkward, and he switches his course of direction to your shirt instead. His hands gently reach for the edge of the white fabric.

"No-....m'not......can't....ready...."

His hands take a hold of it and with just as gentle movements he starts to pull it up your torso.

"No- NO! Father, please! Not again-"

He lets go like he's been burned. His eyes wide as he takes a firm step away from you in pure shock. His own heart pounds, his mind reeling to understand what just happened. You clutch your shirt around your abdomen, your body shaking like a leaf in the wind. Your body scrambles to lay further away from him on the bed.

His own hands shake, the worst-case scenarios running wild in his mind of all the possible ways he could've just hurt you.

And still, he doesn't understand your reaction.

"Spider..." he says quietly, carefully. You don't respond to it, so he calls your name even softer.

Your breathing is too rabid for his liking, but he doesn't want to risk touching you again. He doubts you'd react positively to it, and he knows that feeling.

At first, he's at a loss at what to do, how to make you calm down, but he realizes it's really so painfully simple. There's nothing much he can do, but he can do what he had wished someone had done for him way back.

Careful to not collide with your shaking form, he lays down beside you. You instinctively roll onto your side and curl up even further, but you don't turn away, so he takes it as a good sign. Your eyes are shut tight, and your body still trembling just as bad as before.

"I'm here..." he whispers quietly, without knowing if you can even hear him. He extends his hand between the two of you, he doesn't touch you, but it's there whenever you're ready. He doesn't know how long the two of you stay like that, and whatever Price needed Johnny for, he's glad it's taken longer than expected.

He doesn't move, almost doesn't dare breathe any more than necessary as he keeps his eyes on your form. His little praises and words of encouragement doesn't seem to do much, but his heart feels desperate.

Simon takes notice of every little movement, of every twitch and hitch in your breath when you slowly open your eyes to meet his. They're glassy, tears threatening to spill over, but they never fully come.

His hand grabs unto the sheets beneath to not reach out and touch your cheek, to be ready to wipe away any tears that may fall.

"M'sorry..." your apology is quiet and raspy, and for a moment it feels like you're still just the scared kids from back home, trying to survive in a world that's not built for them.

"It's just I-"

"You don't have to explain yourself..." he cuts you off sharply. He doesn't know if it was the right call from the deflated look on your face. You nod, biting your lip softly.

"Simon..." your voice is soft and searching. Your shaking hand bumps into his, and he takes it in his, feeling the coldness of your skin.

"It's okay..."

"Please don't go."

"I won't."

His answer is firm, it's the truth, and he would swear it to you if you asked. He's not going to leave. Not again. Never again. He's here to stay whether you push him away or not, he's here by your side, watching. Always.

He makes a decision on a whim without forethought. Simon's arm hooking around your waist and pulling you closer until he can envelop his arms around you and keep you close to his chest. You tense at first, before you relax in his hold, resign your drunken state to him in favour of falling asleep in the arms of the only person who's ever truly made you feel safe.

"M'not going anywhere, Spider..."

Simon doesn't dare move as you lay your head to his chest, and feel his heartbeat beneath his skin. He doesn't dare move when he hears your breathing even out. He especially doesn't dare move when he can feel your body go lax, and sleep take over you.

The door to the room opens with a quiet creak, and Johnny's footsteps comes closer to the bed. "Mh ah see ye got a head start then..." Johnny's smirk is too wide on his lip, and Simon could easily wipe it off if he wasn't holding something more important at that moment.

"Should ah be offended? Jealous even?" Johnny is merely teasing, but it still elicits a groan from Simon.

"Get in here, dumbass."

Johnny lets out a quiet chuckle, looking down at him with a fond smile. "Let me just...scoot in here..." he crawls unto the bed, struggling to make room for himself, but with a bit of adjusting to your sleeping form, Simon manages to make space for him.

"Are you done wiggling around trying to wake them?" Simon mumbles with a thick layer of sarcasm.

"Ah am not trying to-"

"Ssh!"

Johnny settles in, unashamedly cuddling up to your sleeping form and peeking at Simon over your head. "Goodnight, grump" Johnny whispers quietly, reaching over you to squeeze his arm. He lets out a quiet sigh, letting his own body relax down into the mattress.

"Goodnight, Johnny" Simon murmurs, watching Johnny ever so slowly join you in the realm of dreams.

As he lay there with two of arguably the most impactful people he's ever met, he can't help but feel a sense of warmth within him. Not a physical warmth, but a warmth that blooms in his heart. It's unexpected, but not entirely unwelcome. The thoughts that occur with them are dangerous, unsure, things he'll undoubtedly have to entertain when the sun rises again.

But for now, he's content with holding his unknowing world in his arms, and let the warmth lull him into a peaceful sleep.

Likes, Reblogs and comments are always appreciated, love ya! <3

Taglist: @unlikelyaperson @ghostlythots @kaoyamamegami @lilynotdilly @chickennn-soupp @spicyspicyliving @ellabellabunny123 @woodlandgirl22-blog-blog @haipasa

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captain-mj · 1 year ago

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Okay, so I'm very sick rn, and could use an order of Fluff, please.

Maybe some GhostSoap where Ghost gets deliriously sick and is having hallucinations, and Soap just stays there and comforts him through it all?

Wrote this while a tiny bit depressed so I hope you like it

Ghost never got sick. He just didn't. The mask kept him from getting most airborne illnesses (presumably) and he was careful to never get infections.

But somehow. Someway. He had... something. Didn't matter. The fever that wracked his body was vicious and cruel.

Soap was currently sitting with him and fretting. He was muttering about medicine and what to do and stuff that made Ghost's head hurt.

Someone... spoke. His head jerked towards it but it didn't repeat.

"Simon." Soap called to him, putting his hand on his warm cheek. "You're burning up." His voice sounded very far away.

Gentle hands laid him down. For a moment, he felt like a kid again, safe and sound in his mom's arms. He heard someone whimper and wondered if Soap had hurt himself.

Soap carefully tapped his cheek and he opened his mouth on command. A pill was slipped into his mouth and then some cold water followed. Ghost closed his eyes and drifted.

Something called to him again. Speaking to him sweetly. "You need to get up."

Ghost grunted, his head aching. The hand came back, gently running through his hair.

The voice faded to a soft humming. One of the Beatle's songs. His mom's favorite.

Ghost softly hummed along and he swore he could smell her perfume.

Her absence hit him hard as the perfume disappeared. He keened softly, reaching out for her hand again. When he was sick as a kid, she'd give him plain toast and maybe a cup of tea until he felt up for soup. Always the same. Some cheap mix of chicken and vegetable.

Ghost wanted that. He wanted her hand on his hair and his childhood bedroom.

Soap kissed his forehead. "Simon. Why do you look so sad?"

Ghost looked at him and winced. "Johnny... Please don't leave me."

"Hey, I'm not going to leave ya. Gonna stay right here."

Ghost grabbed his hand and kissed his wrist.

"You're burning up." Soap said softly. He grabbed a rag that he dipped in cold water and gently puts it to his forehead. "I'm worried about you."

"No medics. Please."

Soap smiled sadly. "Alright. I'll stay with you until you feel better." He gently put the rag on his cheek and then on his throat.

Ghost groaned softly in relief and smiled. "Thank you. I love you." He missed Soap's sad look.

The hallucinations could not be kind. They couldn't stay as just a sign of grief.

A skeleton stood there. It watched him. Body unnatural.

It popped it's head off and held it out to him.

"Your mother's skull. You killed her."

Ghost closed his eyes tight, afraid.

"Your brother's rib cage. You killed him too."

Ghost covered his ears and the whimpering came again. It didn't occur to him that he could make those noises.

Soap put his arms around him and pulled him to his chest. "I got you, Simon. I got you."

Ghost shivered hard and he pulled up just long enough to take off his shirt. He pressed into Soap's body, feeling the heat rolling off of him. When he tentatively opened his eyes, there was nothing there.

Soap kissed his sweaty hair. "Later, we'll take a shower okay?"

Ghost turned around and hugged on to him, face buried into his skin. "I love you."

"Stop saying that. You're only saying that because you're delirious."

"I'm sorry. I guess I should say it more often. Don't want you to doubt that." Ghost rubbed against him like a cat.

Soap sighed softly and gently ran his hands up and down his back. "Alright, Simon."

Ghost rested against him, enjoying the warmth. Later, he might put on his mask and pretend this never happened. But the part of him that he normally kept shoved down really hoped he wouldn't. He hoped he'd kiss Soap sober and say he loved him again until he realized he was telling the truth.

But for now, his whole body felt like it was on fire. His head hurt. His muscles were sore. So he rested there, safe and sound and with Johnny's heartbeat in his ears.

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #simon ghost riley #johnny soap mactavish #call of duty modern warfare ii #cod mw2 #ghostsoap #cod #soapghost #ghoap

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irritablepoe · 6 months ago

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My ao3 fics - Masterpost

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Bungou Stray Dogs

Multiple Chapters:

how do i say goodbye (22/?) - follows ranpoe's relationship post-canon

embrace the sound of enchantment (3/?) - royal au for ranpoe with ranpo as the prince and poe as his servant

communication methods (7/8) - stalker/yandere poe with a very willing and encouraging ranpo

Ranpoe Oneshots

i could never forget you - ranpo and poe decide to meet up, though even after waiting for an hour, ranpo doesn't show up; hurt/comfort

in the low lamp light i was free - ranpo comes home from defeating fyodor. poe takes care of him

too much at once - poe is overwhelmed at a party; ranpo takes care of him

the feverish heat of yours - omegaverse au, omega!poe and alpha!ranpo

awake on a midsummer night - poe has his obsessive moments. ranpo does too.

do you regret meeting me? - ranpo asks poe exactly that; poe shows him how much he loves him

(un)holy ghost who haunts your home - poe has a dissociative episode when he's outside with ranpo

betrayal from the beginning - poe is kidnapped by fitzgerald; ranpo saves him

meet me on the rooftop - ranpo and poe have a conversation on a rooftop while looking at a sunset

keeping an eye out (while i flirt with you) - bartender au, lots of flirting

you hold me hypnotized, i'm mesmerized - character study/inner monologue of poe

mine to possess - pre-canon poe and his brother talk about ranpo; he's at his worst here

a worthy opponent - may the better one win - pre-canon interaction of ranpoe before the mystery game

i'm sorry - hurt/comfort; self-esteem issues

Other Oneshots:

kill me with your kindness (i'll gladly surrender) - fyolai; fyodor needs a hug

bleeding memories - mushimizo; character study

tell me you're part of me - fyodor and poe meet because of business; fyodor tries to get poe on his side

a hat a day keeps the bad thoughts away - multiple fandoms; crack fic about hats

are you getting sentimental with me now? - poe and fitzgerald; poe is at his worst when he shows up to breakfast; fitzgerald takes care of him

shared grief of broken men - fitzgerald and poe talk a bit about grief and life

courtesy visit - gone wrong (no clickbait) - poe and lovecraft go on a mission together

a ship for the two of us - bramcraft; they're enjoying a meal (a ships crew) together :3

Moriarty The Patriot

pillows to ride on in a maid dress - louis; i'll not elaborate, the title says it all

need a little help with that? - continuation of "pillows to ride on in a maid dress" with james bonde

Vicious

let this bullet pierce you - victor finally hunting eli down

torture me lightly - post-canon; victor sees hallucinations

with my last breath i think of you - victor dies and thinks of eli

Crime and Punishment

your help heals all my wounds (17/?) - post-canon events of crime and punishment; razras; dunya/sonya

affection - oneshot; razras

there will come a soldier and a poet - lotr au; poet!raskolnikov and soldier!razumikhin

Jackaby

not a word of gratitude - jackaby is alone. he'll always end up alone

don't turn away with this heavy heart of yours - abigail and jackaby talk about jackaby's emotions

Arcane

rest now - viktor is extremely sleep-deprived and faints. jayce finds him

these are not all of my fics, if you want more go check out my other works. a lot of them are written for whumptober 2023, so mind the tags on them. mind the tags in general lol.

the fics are all restricted to ao3 users only because of ai scrapping, i'm very sorry

thank you for reading through this and if you decide to read them thank you as well it means a lot to me <3

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chiyoso · 2 years ago

Text

HIGANBANA

syp. the breakup was traumatic to say the least, but horrible as it was, you were free, you felt free, even when hidden under the abyss, that longing for him, you felt renewed after a few months, years of healing and under going a lot of self care, everything was moving fast, but it was peaceful—until that one, specific voice that you have missed hearing, called out to you suddenly in your expedition for coffee.

content warning. oneshot · ghost from the past · modern au · female reader · exbf!blade · angst · heavy and sensitive topics · public indency (secret handjob) · y/n mentioned.

author notes. NOT ME MAKING THIS SO PERSONAL?? 💀

Blade, who heaved a heavy sigh sat by the cafe window, swirling his coffee at hand as his mind worked endlessly. He was seated alone at the table where you and him used to go to frequently back to when the two of you were together, his thoughts continued to wander back to that faithful day all those years ago, where he broke it off with you.

His mind consisted of memories of your reddened face, weeping against his knuckles as you held his fingers delicately, pleading him to stay as the desperate words of 'i love you's' 'please' and 'don't leave me's' fill the room in your depair, the echoes of your broken voice caused by him would envelope his heart with a deep sense of regret and heartache.

Choking heavy sobs, gripped his hand tightly in yours as the voice that pleaded to him reached out to the corridors outside your apartment, letting your neighbors know of an event that caused your happy, cheerful persona to shatter, faltering into nothingness.

But he was the one who ultimately he broke it off with you because he knew he couldn't stand seeing you get hurt, anxious from your overthinking mind that was filled by negativity that affected your state of mind heavily, and the both of you know that it was caused by him at every time of light and of darkness.

Willingly or not, he broke it off with you even as you pleaded on your knees, begging pathetically as you cried your eyes out, gripping and burying your face to his knees. He broke it off with you because he was aware of the self disrespect you were causing to yourself, and that was all in the result of him. He couldn't bear it the thought of you hurting yourself in such a heavily, toxic way, he didn't know how to handle it or—he couldn't handle it.

You two loved each other so much at such a bad time in your lives, that the memory of you in vain and your hauntingly beautiful voice that weeped for him, continued to torment and echo inside his soul, all these years until now.

Dammit. His vision would hallucinate your tears as blood instead everytime he worried about your health after the breakup, which one he thought of everyday and every second, but he couldn't do anything as he was the very one who also asked to never keep in contact again, he was the one who left you in your weakened state, and he dreaded himself for doing so. He would have nightmares of your exhausted, tear stained face as the rain that day poured heavily, just like your tears as your sobs and pleas for him to stay, continued. Everytime the whether becomes gloomy, he would be reminded of you without missng a beat, the weather will never stop, will continue to shower him with the intent of reminding him of what he did to you. He loathed himself to death at the thought of your whole being in shambles because of him. He would wake up in a cold sweat as the sounds of your weeping would ring through his ears afterwards, forcing him to go insane with his own tears while he basked in the air of regret and longing, for you.

He was having another episode as his hands begin to tremble, setting his coffee down shakily as he held his own hands together, thinking it was you who was embracing his cold, callused hands with your warmth instead. As soon as he left you in your apartment with his belongings, he felt like he was stabbed a thousand times over with a blade that was honed to perfection. When he looked towards the end of the empty corridor, all her heard was your hysterical weeping, and fuck—it killed him, it killed him over and over again which each pace he took.

His breath shallowed, gripping his head as he wallowed in regret and shame—The sound of the cafe's bell, interrupted his negative train of thought, cutting it short as a familiar figure walked into the building, a presence he longed for, appeared before his widening eyes, it was as if fate was toying with him, mocking and punishing him for the torment he caused you.

You, who was the same person he was thinking of, looked and acted like a whole different person. You genuinely, heavily changed and he was there to bear witness to it, to witness you once again.

The moment your heels stepped inside into the familiar surroundings around you, he found himself trouble breathing as his glistening eyes found its way to you—You who was deprived of your innocence and cheerful demeanor, replaced with a cold, mysterious and elegance instead. You, who was vastly different to the you back then in your demeanor along with your physicality and outfit. You, who was so upbeat, energetic and friendly before, now replaced with a professional, icy allure that intrigued the people within the cafe, assuming you were a business woman who was grabbing a quick lunch. He was frightened and smitten by the sight of you again, he felt his throat lump as his shaky hand hovered and trembled over his mouth.

You held your head high when all Blade remembered was your lowered, puffy gaze that stayed down in defeat.

You, who walked with a radiating elegance towards the cashier remembering how clumsy you were in your steps often that caused you to cling often to him with a cheery smile.

You, who just... looked so incomprehensibly so matured, divine and amazing to look at that even he and others basked in your sudden appearance.

He couldn't find his voice when you ordered your usual drink, such a simple action of yours, led him to a vast majority of memories that involved your love for coffee, your dates together, the actual times you two were happy—before it turned sour.

He had absolutely no idea what to do, he missed you, he was terrified of approaching you, he wanted you to acknowledge his presence, he wanted to let you know he was here, he was here.

Please look at me, please hold me in your arms again, please let me know everything is alright with, please reach out to me again, please tell me you still love me, please, please, please I beg y—

His thoughts were cut shortly from the sensation of his tears that dropped to his cheeks, behind his glasses. Your back was turned to him whilst waiting for your order, but that was enough more than enough to feel his whole soul tremble before your presence, he felt sickeningly horrified with the thought of ruining your beautiful self who felt so new, so ethereal—you felt reincarnated, you felt so different to him that it was hard to believe you were the same person whom he dated back then.

Blade shuddered at the sight of when you fixed your hair back to your ear, showing off your earrings that he swore he bought for you before, he felt his hands grow cold and quiver upon touching his face when he saw you wore the promise ring he gave you in your index finger instead of your ring digit. He held back an audible choke as he saw your eyes linger to the accessory he gave you on your finger with an unreadable expression.

“Dammit, I-” He was about to speak, possibly call out to you when he saw you take your order in your hands, before striding away towards the cafe's door. His breath labored, quickened as you briefly glanced to his direction—or more like you were reviewing your nostalgic surroundings again, unaware of your past lover gazing back to you. His heart shattered when you didn't freeze, he thought his being was ignored as you went out the cafe, walking along the window where he sat by, he felt a dread in his soul when you two aligned for a moment, you who passed him, and he who stood by, unable to move a muscle.

The baggage of reality sank within him, visibly struggling internally, just remembering the presence he witnessed just moments ago, now slipping once again in his grasp.

Blade, who muscled were tensed, found the courage to move, and scurried off his seat, he was weaker than he thought as he stumbled in place, catching the attention of multiple people whose looks filled with confusion and concern.

Blade placed himself towards the window, leaning himself as support as he gazes outside, hoping you were still in a radius to catch up to. He used the walls to drag himself out, his weak legs taking him outside the cafe, before landing his eyes on your back once again.

“Y/N!”

You froze. A coldness seeped into your veins as you hear a familiar voice, unfortunately you were in doubt as you only stopped in your tracks, looking around in confusion only to the line of your sight. Deep down, you didn't want to turn around, because possibly, possibly that was truly his voice that you heard. Nonetheless, you handled your emotions well now in contrast to the past. You took deep, long breaths, shrugging off the nostalgic pain that was bubbling inside your heart, before continuing to walk along the pavement infront of you, and—

“P-Please! Wait!” The familiar voice pleaded.

Fuck, fuck... Goddammit. You cussed under your breath, your heart and mind wavering as you come to a conclusion that you weren't hallucinating, hearing such a voice you haven't heard in awhile.

You took a sharp, shaky inhale, composing yourself, before looking over your shoulder. Masking the intense emotions you were harboring as you laid your eyes upon a familiar sounding person, who was jogging towards, but you were unsure as his attire, appearance heavily contrasted to the man who you expected to look much more differently.

Holding back your emotions expertly, you shoot a faint smile, accompanied with a confusion that was apparent in your face. Your eyes glossed upon his whole being, observing him and his body language. His attire was fitted to the tall figure's physique, enhancing his enticing muscles that looked like he worked hard for, the cotton hugged his form tightly, and your gaze was subtly hovering over his body more than you should've. What was most striking were his glasses, as well as the red, dangling earring that felt too familiar for you, but you begged yourself to not assume anything as of this moment that was placed upon you.

He was panting, holding his knees as he arrived in your presence, within your intense gaze. He was quivering at the sight of your watchful eye that looked down upon him, like how he did when he saw your body on the floor that begged him to stay all those years ago.

“Hm?” You hummed in confusion, keeping your faint smile on your face as you stare at the top of his head—only then your breath hitched that once he tilted his head up to you, the sight before you hit you with an intense wave of familiarity and sense of nostalgia as you viewed his features, you were doing your best to maintain your emotions, and that you did as your smile stayed, only slightly wavering.

Blade, whose face was flushed from jogging to you, observed your features once again, and the closeup of your more matured features that were enhanced elegantly sent him to an oblivion. You looked absolutely ravishing in his sights, the both of your eyes lock for a moment as he stood straight, revealing the height difference between you two, but instead of flinching, you held your ground, continuing to lock your gaze with the man's familiar, dilating red irises.

His heart continued to crack, noticing you not recognizing him as you were expertly hiding the emotions you suppressed, the emotions that you never, ever wanted to show anyone again, apart from the man whom you loved only, you were absolutely doubtful in this moment as a tense air trickled around the both of you, even if it felt like you two were strangers, the both of you showed a sense of familiarity, but one's emotions were held back, the other, whose emotions were apparent in their face.

Both of your lips parted at the same time to speak, also noticing wanting the other to talk yet retracting their words, you chuckled briefly before plastering a faint, warm smile to him—and he melted almost immediately.

“Yes?” You took initiative, your expression remained warm as you gaze to him, he was a heavily attractive figure who was oozing with a familiarity that overwhelmed you.

Blade was silenced to the voice that he was talking to, you held a level of endearment and elegance that he found so enticing, he noticed the way your skin glowed in contrast to before from your unhealthiness, on how the dark circles in your eyes lessened, you looked healthy and happy, and that relieved apart of his soul that an audible sigh escaped his lips.

You were heavily different, but he knew you were still the same person as before. A frown subtly grows on his lips as you turned to face him, only to look at him like you didn't recognize him. It's not like you were ignorant to the tense air of longing and nostalgia, but you wanted to clear your doubts first and foremost by the man that was towering you.

Blade took a sharp, shaky inhale, one that you noticed as he ran his fingers through his hair, staring at you like you were the forbidden fruit in the garden of Eve. So different, yet the same person whom he wanted to make amends with.

“...Y/N.” Your breath got caught in your throat as the familiar voice said your name, his voice ringing through your ears. She fell silent, savoring the familiarity of his voice that seeped into her eardrums as a flood of memories that associated with the sound of his chords surfaced. A moment of silence ensued as the sounds of cars, the city and the sight of the both of you staring so intently with one another.

“Bladie?”

You broke the silence, your gaze mirroring the intensity he held while he looked at you.

Blade, had felt a weight lift off of his chest as you recognized and called him by his nickname. As if his memories, too, had surfaced intensely once more, staring to remember fragments of lovely memories between the two of you, just off by your sweet, matured voice that called out to him.

Simultaneously, he also unfortunately remembered leaving you in the past with no contact, him telling you to not contact him for your sake again. Except, looking at you and your enchanting features again, and speaking to you once more... It felt as if time had been reversed for him, and he regretted his choice deeply of letting you leave his grasp.

"Yeah," He responded to you weakly, offering a faint, sad smile towards you, wanting to say so much more but it was all laid out as thoughts only.

You look so fucking good. I'm so happy you're okay, I'm so relieved you're okay, I'm so happy you're healthy and glowing, you look so fucking hot, I'm so fucking sorry for everything, I'm so sorry for hurting you so much, I'm- I'm so sorry for leaving you, I missed you so damn much, I—

“You look well, Bladie.”

He took a sharp inhale, hearing your voice mutter his nickname whom you said with a tinge of affection that interrupted his overflowing mind with thoughts. He was in a daze, his emotions were spiralling endlessly as you gaze to him with an expression of genuine warmth, plastered for him to only witness. He had expected you fully to lash out at him, dismiss him, scream at him, maybe even throw the coffee in your hand, but he was only met with your affectionate and endearing demeanor that made him breathless, speechless. You reminded him of the kindness that made him slowly fall for you in the past, reminding him that you yourself, had welcomed him wholeheartedly despite his cold and dismissive demeanor back then.

“Hardly.” He responded softly, a sad smile crossing his slightly quivering lips, his eyes savoring your whole being. You let him lower his gaze to your body and outfit, flattered once more on how those piercing, red irises took every inch of you, reminding you once more of how he treated you when he wasn't all unkind and cold towards you. You were always stunning to him, but you were dressed like someone who was important now, someone who was living a life of business and elegance, and he was so damn happy when he noticed the eyebags that lessened around your eyes, the lack of color in your skin now filled with a glow, showing that you were more than healthy in contrast to before. You were safe, and that's all that mattered to him.

“I mean it Blade,” You added, chuckling softly, your eyes mirroring his wandering gaze towards his long, navy hair. “Seems like you still dye your hair hm?” You tease, reaching out to the ends of his hair length.

He flinched slightly to your moving hand, not expecting you to do such a thing, but he let it happen, his heart beating out of his chest while he gazed lovingly to you.

“I miss you.”

He blurted out in heat of moment in your affectionate touch, his reddened face, faltering into something of fragility.

You flinched in response, your expression turning into a grimace, yet you kept your emotions in control in contrast to him—and he swore he heard his heart crack slightly observing your features.

“You ended us.” Said firmly, with undertones of sadness that was becoming more apparent. She retracted her hand from him, causing Blade to reach out with a whimper before stopping himself, it was like separating a puppy from its master.

Your sad smile made him anxious, because he knew you were right, you were always right... Even if you didn't mean to be in all kinds of situations.

“I know-... I know I did...” His voice faltered.

“I was hurting you- and you knew that well Y/N, and-”

“And you thought leaving me in that state was the best solution?” You said firmly, referring to all those years ago.

His breath hitched upon hearing your firm interruption, he lowered his gaze in shame, his guilt, eating him alive from inside out.

“I... I thought maybe us going our separate ways would be best,” His mind was in shambles. His hand reaches out to his hair, gripping his head as he tried composing himself, but it was hard, seeing you unchanging and firm which he was terrified off yet he found himself loving your piercing gaze towards him.

“I will remind you what you didn't absorb before,”

You said, taking a step forward, locking your eyes to him. He tried avoiding your direction as he wallowed himself in guilt and shame, not long after, he felt your fingers tilt his chin towards you, causing him to flinch and stare into your gaze with his, glistening and widened.

“I will never, ever, ever, let anyone else—love and hurt me except for you and only you. Even after all our struggles, I have never once imagined myself with another, you were hovering inside my mind almost every. single. day. You will forever be my drug, and I feel myself relapsing when I take in your saddened, loving gaze.”

“I-...”

Please take me back.

“You...”

Please love me again.

“I-I...”

Please stay by my side.

“...”

Please be hold me in your arms again.

Please, please, please. Please be mine again, please make me yours again, please let me hold you, please shower me with your love once again, I was stupid, so fucking stupid. I was stupid enough to let you go and waste all those years without your presence, I was braindead, I was weak, I was so fucking dumb, please fucking take me back, I miss you, I miss you, I miss you—

His tears overflowed and you witnessed a storm that cascaded down his cheeks. Droplets of depair that trickled down along his jawline like the beads from the grey clouds that coated your windows. He was crying silently, yet you felt his internal struggle from the red, glistening irises that dilated at you. You retracted your hand from his chin, your expression slightly wavering from the trembling man before you.

“I loved you, I promise- I give you my word... I-”

He then brought both of his hands to his face, covering his tear stained features as he weeped endlessly, his tears peeking out through his fingers as he started to break down.

“I still do, I'm still so fucking in love with you Y/N. I-I just couldn't... express it properly before, and I was-”

“But- you... you said you—”

“I WAS STUPID—He was stupid! He was some dumb, immature fuck who took you for granted because he was a little, traumatized cunt who- who couldn't accept that someone like you would... would love him without conditions-...”

He continued to cry his heart out. The both of you causing a slight commotion in the streets but the both of you did not care at all. His hands were stained from the flood of tears that seeped between his digits, that caused you to gulp a lump down your throat, still trying to maintain your composure—but his sounds of sorrow reminded you of yourself, weakening your forged mentally that you worked hard to accumulate and train over the years without him, during his absence.

The drink had started to cool, just like the veins that made Blade's whole being tremble while he sobbed quietly.

You then glance behind him, looking past towards the cafe again, before returning your gaze back to him, pondering to yourself for a few long moments, all while your deafening silence made him feel overly anxious.

The sounds of your heels getting distanced from himself alerted him as he lowered his hands, quickly darting his gaze to your direction, feeling his heart shatter and break, thinking you were finally done with him. He ran his moistened fingers through his air as a sigh of defeat and heartache escapes his lips. His eyes started to dull and blank before—

“Bladie,”

The sound of your voice calling out to him lightened his glossy eyes up once more, before quickly turning his head to you over his shoulder. You were infront of the cafe's door, looking to him with such warmth and affection that reminded him of a look you once gave to him when you professed your love to him in the past.

“C'mere pretty.”

You weren't done with him, you were far from finished with him. If only he knew what you've been feeling since recognizing him, your lovely ex-lover. You felt swell, you felt unquenchable love and admiration towards him in his act of love, mixed with regret, talking about in the trying times of your past with him.

You didn't have to beckon him twice as he immediately obliged, wiping his blushy, tear stained face, striding to you at once, with relief and excitement washing over him like a lost little puppy whose owner just came back to the house. He felt his heart in his throat, overwhelmed in the fact that you called out to him so lovingly once more with your voice, coated and thick with affection.

The two of you made your way back to the cafe, causing stares to befall upon the two of you, some customers had recognized you from your earlier arrival while others were baffled to see you with the handsome man who was previously sitting at the window seat. The public setting was filled with a weird sense of envy, attraction and jealousy from the people that paid attention to the both of you in their peripheral visions.

But, you two were unaware as both of your intensifying feelings that were bubbling within the two of you fogged your awareness in your surroundings, not to mention Blade, the tall figure towering behind you, clung onto your waist closely, absolutely terrified of separating from you. The two of you made your way towards both of your usual seats, even if the staff and interior were different to all those years ago, the previous sweet old manager didn't change anything drastically in the spot where you used to come frequently. (Requested by Blade himself previously.) Except, instead of a two-seated table, it was a cushioned four seater with half wall that surrounded the seating.

Had it been that long? Had it truly been a long time since visiting this place? It—

“Hmh-?” Your thoughts were shortly interrupted by the feeling of Blade's hands, squeeze your waist, now realizing his cheeks were rubbing against yours, embracing you from behind needily as he moved his form closer to you.

“I'm sorry,” He cooed softly, continuing to rub his cheeks against yours. His right hand then moved up along your curves, towards your neck as he circled his thumb over your throat.

“For?” You tilt your head up, letting him bury his face to your shoulder as you sigh in satisfaction, your hand, moving along his hair behind him as he started to coat your skin with his lips while you savored kisses on you, closing your eyes.

People were staring—Or they couldn't help but stare from Blade's display of affection towards you, the two of you stood standing as he continued to lovingly and needily plant warm, tender kiss along your neck from behind, not having a care in the world as his emotions and actions did the talking.

"For... not expressing my love properly.”

He planted another kiss.

“For leaving you.”

And another.

“For letting such-... such a beautiful thing we had together, die because of me.”

And another.

"And... for being so stupid,"

He softly muttered against you, exhaling a warm breath that grazed your skin, planting a soft, wet kiss this time.

“So fucking stupid,” He whispered breathily this time, with a soft groan escaping his lips. You mirrored his shallow breath as he began to suck along the veins in your neck, coating your skin with warm saliva that he happily placed.

“So stupid...” You repeated his words with a quiet moan, your hands running through his hair, pulling him closer as he started to suck on your neck more eagerly, loving your reactions.

“A big meanie.” You said softly with a quiet chuckle, running your fingers through his hair more eagerly.

He then turned you around to face him, gripping your waist tighter, leaning you back against the cushioned seat's backrest, while you tried to hold your cold drink in your other hand steadily as he continued to press his moist lips along your jaw, causing you to grunt and take shaky breaths.

“A- A big, mean, dummy...” You whimpered quietly, closing your eyes, your breathing becoming more shallow as he continued to suckle on your neck needily.

The nicknames you gave him made his heart flutter. He was so happy to be with you again, to feel your touch once more in this way.

He chuckled against your skin, feeling heavy with overwhelming love and euphoria. There was a time when you called him the same names in the past. He buried his head even further onto your neck as you ran your fingers through his hair more firmly.

“Hmh, fff..—uck...” He groaned a little more audibly, getting aroused from his own actions towards you, causing more attention from the cafe as their heads sharply turn towards the source of the noise, revealing two-intimate individuals that were displaying such affection in the midst of the public eye.

“Quiet,” You hushed him with a coy smirk, retracting your face from his lips while he mindlessly followed the direction of your skin that was moving away from him.

“We're attracting attention Bladie,” You said, moving around the seat, pulling him towards beside you, placing your drink and belongings on the table.

“don't care...” He babbled quietly, his volume barely above a whisper.

With one swift motion, he pressed you against the window behind you, burying himself on your neck, continuing to give you affection with his lips along your collarbones. His hand grabbed your thigh, moving it up to the sofa so he could be between you while his needy kisses started to attract attention from the suckling sounds of love and affection. You dug your fingers over his hair, causing him to moan out softly once more against your neck that was slobbered with his needs.

“Still as sensitive as ever, I see...” You whispered with a hushed chuckle while he whimpered consecutively against your neck.

He hated the fact that you were still composed well, he hated the fact you weren't succumbing to the pleasure he knew you were receiving in heavy amounts. You would be freaking out with muffled, loud moans if he did this in public—which he didn't before, so whatever this... unbridled, intense attraction, lust and love, it had mature to far something greater, and the both of you felt these unspoken, raw feelings that was seeding between the two of you in this loving moment.

“Don't test me babygirl, you're just as sensitive as me, you know that.” He chuckled against your skin, before turning your own words against you, as he started to trail his tongue along the lines of your collarbones, lingering his warm, wet tongue on your sensitive parts while he teased your clothed, inner thighs.

You gasped sharply, shuddering in his touch as an intense warmth swelled on your slicking cunt.

You attempted to hold on to the string that was holding your composure together, but how could you? A more aged, mature and rugged Blade was between your legs, letting his paternal, manly instincts cave into his fogging mind, devouring your skin like his very life depended on it—and it did in this moment of reunion with you.

“Th-That's right Bladie, you remember my every sensitive spot all over me don't you?” You said trying to sound confident as you were previous, you were breathing more shallowly from the teasing of his circling finger inside your inner thighs, and that didn't help your arousal at all.

Blade chuckled softly in your words. Yes, he did remember those sensitive spots of yours, through and through, he reminded himself in the most loneliest days his life in your absence, reminding himself of the intimacy with you, stroking his pumping cock to the explicit photos and videos that he took (with consent) with you and kept even after the breakup. He would have a raging hard on whenever he glances to his lockscreen of you, just the look on your face would make his cock twitch. Even in his work in the Stellaron Co. Company, if he had a random erection, he would pay Silverwolf with money to distract Kafka to let him sneak off into the men's comfort room. Wanting to stroke his thick, swollen cock to you, watching you in his phone getting fucked relentlessly by him, imagining that time together while he needily pumped himself, grunting along with you in the speakers.

To the present, in a typical ex-boyfriend fashion, in his lustful need for you, wanting to tease and break your defenses once more, he placed your hands over his clothed, hardened length, that was twitching under his cotton, sinking his teeth onto your neck gently, while his hot, moist breath against your skin sends chills down your spine. As he did so, he pushed you further against the window as people passed by with intrigued looks on their faces outside, the two of you were heavily trying to seduce and break one another, and the both of you loved it so damn mich.

“Look how excited it is princess,” He moaned, grinning up against your ear as he nibbled your earlobes, teasing you.

"Mm." You hummed with a mixture of a groan, your hand that was on his erection started to squeeze his size, causing him to groan against your ear while his hand on your thigh tightened.

Unlike previously in the past, you would absolutely lose yourself in a moment of intimacy like this with him, yet now—you were handling it with a wavering level control whilst still being sensual. You were absolutely way too different in his eyes, but you were still the same person he ached for, sinfully and lovingly.

“So lovely...” You moaned out softly, circling your index along the bottom of his shaft, rubbing it as he towered over you, whimpering needily against your ear.

Blade felt a pang of guilt deep down, knowing how much self-control you were exerting now in contrast to yourself from before. The thought of you holding back so much just so you wouldn't fall for him all over again hurt him to his core. Once more, he leaned forwards and kissed your neck, slowly and passionately. Your groan was all but quiet anymore, and so was his voice as he whispered to your ear.

“So are you, princess,” He said breathily against your neck, feeling the blood pump in his dick, hardening in your touch.

While you were massaging his clothed boner that made him continue to whimper against you, your hazy eyes unwillingly glances past him, realizing a number of people in the cafe have become audiences to your heavily intimate feats of display.

Your halfway opened lids return to his, your other hand moving up to his chin while you planted warm, tender kisses along his jawline, making him tremble further.

“Bladie, we're still in public...” You said against his jaw, continuing to cover him in your wet kisses, causing his aching cock to twitch more.

You were right though, it's funny how one gets lost in their own world, especially that had his mind that was covered in a mist of pleasure and arousal. You pointed out something that should have been obvious to him all along yet he couldn't fanthom to bring himself back to reality, he missed you dearly and undeniably, and it was truly obvious.

He reluctantly, slowly, pulled away from you, his face flushed and his breathing heavy. His erection continued to pump as he subtly glanced around, noticing the stares from the people surrounding you two, causing the audience to flinch at the mercy of Blade's red irises and look away from the scene in a hurry.

A vast majority of their faces were flushed, men's hands were shifting in their pants, adjusting their erect boners inside their pockets while the women squirmed uncomfortably in their seats. The cafe had suddenly had an air of intimacy, an aroma slick with warmth, created by you and Blade.

He then returned his gaze to you, smirking as he reaches out to your chin, tilting it up to him, nearing your moist, plump lips.

“Do I care, princess?”

“Precisely why I reminded you,” You responded without missing a beat, leaning forward to him as your warm breath glossed upon his lips, causing his to part slightly with a whimper escaping his lips.

“I know that nothing would stop you from claiming me once again in this moment,” You said with sultriness, moving your head towards him, licking the corner of his lips, teasing him.

“Fuck,” He groaned sensually, his pumping cock hardening again.

Never in his life would he expect to witness such a sinful, filthy side of you. He had no idea what had happened to you, but both his old and newfound affection for you had locked in, he saw you in his future once more if you allowed him to think of such things, he saw you in his bed, being bred relentlessly by his sex that was rutting into you mindlessly while you moaned his name over and over incoherently. He saw the future of his seed within you drip out from your full, slobbered cunt that would guarantee a next generation for him and you, he wanted you so fucking badly, he needed you in his life again, he needed to—he wholeheartedly, genuinely desired your whole being once more, he needed to love you once again, he needed to make you his again, claim you, and he didn't mind doing it infront of the people who looked at you lustfully, and the thought of others taking you for themselves, caused a fire to flicker inside him, a burning, seething posessiveness that welled up within.

His quivering lips along with his visibly twitching boner raged, trying to capture your lips but you denied him with a coy, lovely smirk, dodging his lips that sent a frustration that mixed from his desires.

“Bladie,” You hummed, moving your finger along the length of his hard-on, whispering sensually to him.

“Please princess,” He choked on his words, his groans reducing to soft, needy whimpers. His pants began to stain as his precum suddenly spewing out from him just from your light touches and your hot, sensual breath that continued to graze his ear.

You retracted your face, your other hand moving to the corner of his mouth that was moistened from his saliva, he was drooling, he was experiencing more pleasure than you realized, he was absolutely aching in need, he was dying to have you touch him, to feel him, to love him. He was turned the fuck on, and so were the others in the cafe, all from your oozing seduction and sultriness that you were emitting from your actions onto Blade.

The cafe's air was heavy with lust and erotica in your feats with Blade, and your actions were visible to the outside as well. The ones who would enter the place would be welcomed by a view of flushed, reddened faces, giving the two of you side glances while you and Blade bask lovingly in the both of your presences.

“Look at you Bladie...” You breathed out, now rubbing your thumb across his moist, plump lips. You didn't let him touch your thumb as his tongue was peeping needily from his mouth. His pupils turn into hearts gazing towards you in a daze, his hands then travel to your neck, holding onto you weakly as his hard length continued to throb between your legs.

“I- I don't ffff...—ucking care any-...anymore,” He grunted as he parted his mouth more, showing how watery his insides were for you. He was showing a whole 'nother side to him that heavily, drastically contrasted to him back then.

“You look like you wanna be fucked dumb Bladie,” You hissed with a sultry groan, shoving your thumb inside his mouth, his dazed efforts finally being rewarded as several audible whimpers escape his lips, while your other hand began to grab his twitching erection that dewed his pants with a stain from his early fluids. You led his slick tongue, doing circular motions all over it that coated your thumb with his warmth.

“Open,” You commanded, and he obliged without a second wasted, opening his entrance panting heavily while your fingers under his chin pulled him closer, viewing his erotic, lewd expression.

“I love- I love you so fucking much-...” He moaned softly, babbling incoherently as he professed his undying love for you once more in his messy state, and that snapped the thread of the last bits of your composure, retracting your thumb from his mouth and bringing his face firmly as your lips finally connect with his from the once in a lifetime encounter.

“Fuck Blade,” You groaned against his lips, slipping your slobbered tongue against his while your hand continued to massage his clothed cock, stimulating him, driving him to oversensitivity from the overwhelming amount of emotions and physical feelings he was currently experiencing.

“'s good... gonna cumm.. gonna cumf...” He babbled softly, mindlessly against your warm euphoric mouth, feeling his throbbing sex under the fabric start to twitch intensely.

Your ears twitch to the growing sounds of whispering, accelerated breathing around you, your half opened lids glossing subtly past Blade once again to see a few couples in the cafe heavily flushed as their women have started to tease their beloveds in the same manner as you, while the singles and the staff silently observed the two of you from afar. The flushed staffs were conflicted in their internal struggle, wanting to prolong the show you two were giving the whole cafe since you were bringing more people into their place, bustling with customers from the attractive view both Blade and you showed, and at the same time, violating the code of conduct for public decency.

“You taste so goodmmf...” Blade groaned, his hips jerking against your hand as he was reaching his high, you rubbed your thumb along his shaft quickly, causing him to moan against your mouth once more as his hands gripped your thighs for support.

“Bladie quiet,” You commanded softly once more, retracting your mouth from him, laying him on your neck that he automatically sucked on, muffling his noises of love while twitching in his seat.

“Be mine... be mine.. be mine again princess...” Blade pleased desperately, his arms wrapped around your waist, panting heavily as he tilts his head up, revealing his blushy skin and his half opened lids that glossed with tears.

“Be mine once more... I- I beg you... I'm-”

His words got interrupted by your quickening hand, stroking his clothed, leaky cock that was staining his pants further.

“Baby I'm gonna cummmf...” He moaned against your skin, panting heavily like a dog as his body continued to squirm between you in his seat.

“I love you”

You whispered lovingly against his ear, biting his earlobe afterwards. Your words causing tears in his half lifded eyes, tightening his grip around you while he groaned against your neck.

In the heat of moment, you quickly unzipped his pants, revealing his swollen pink tip that was oozing with precum, causing his breath to hitch and forcing himself deeper onto your skin, biting it to muffle his erotic, sensual deepened moans. Your thumb began to circle his swollen, leaky tip sending overwhelming pleasure in his sensitive body, before finally giving him the satisfaction of stroking his thick, veiny cock, pumping him as the cushioned seats covered your actions.

“Fuck, fuck... baby I'm-”

“On my hand sweetheart, cum for me,”

“I'm cumming, I'm cumming, I'm—”

“Shit—” he cussed under his breath burying his face onto your chest, feeling his balls clench at your command as his aching cock spasmed along with his body, sending his fluids onto your hand while your thumb rubbed his shaft, overstimulating him, causing him to jolt against you as his hold around your waist tightened.

He panted heavily against your chest for a few long moments, while you brought your hand up that was covered in his sin, to your face, licking his secreted fluids all over your digits and palm, also revealing the fact to the cafe that you just gave him a handjob to him that some had wished to witnessed.

I'm gonna marry you, I'm gonna make you mine, I'm going to give you my babies, I'm going to—

Your other hand moved towards his chin, pressing your lips against his, this time more lovingly and gently, interrupting his thoughts as he automatically matched your rhythm as the both of you were synced in euphoria and love.

“I love-... I love you so fucking much goddammit,” He said with every gasp of air he could manage as he didn't want to part from your lips.

“Again.” You commanded, continuing to kiss him lovingly with all you can, parting your lips for him to access needily while you looked at him dead in his halfway opened eyes.

“I- I love you,”

“Again Bladie,”

He moved himself up to you, his hand reaching out for your cheek as tears began to stain his cheeks once again. You helped put his softened sex inside his pants again while you planted soft kisses all over his lips.

“Be mine again Y/N, be mine once more. I want to be your lover again, I want—I want you, I need you in my life again.” He sobbed softly against your cheek while your lips repeatedly touched his.

“I missed you so much... P-Please—”

“Yes, fuck- Did you really think I was happy in your absence in my life?” You interrupted, kissing his tears away with every drop that cascaded down to his cheeks.

“You're fucking mine from this point on again, actually, the moment where you called out to me, I couldn't resist my desires for you deep down, I still belong to you until now dammit.”

Your words only caused him to sob further, his arms found his way around your neck, pulling you against his body as he sobbed quietly next to your head. Your firm tone, the way you were speaking to him, it was all intoxicating to him on how much you grew in the years without him, the way you claimed him instead, the way your hands slither towards his slender waist, caressing it. He felt so fucking loved and all of it was caused by you, and only you from then on.

“Listen to me Blade,”

You didn't even need to repeat at all since he was already so intent on savoring your voice from the moment you ordered your drink earlier, until now.

“You will be loved by me, you will be savored by me, cherished, lusted, and everything else. All your days will be filled by me and only me from now on, do you understand?”

He felt drunk in your words, you felt so different and not at the same time to him, but he didn't care, he loved it, he loved you so wholeheartedly.

“Marry me,”

He blurted out, causing you to snap out from your confidence, replacing it with bafflement and shock, feeling the sensations in your cheeks as well. You then found yourself gazing towards him, your chin suddenly in his grasp as he forced you to look at him.

Your eyes diluted as you feel your cheeks grow hotter from the question you weren't aware if you heard correctly or not.

“B-Blade?”

“You heard me,”

“Marry me lovely,”

You fell silent. Your accumulated defenses over the years from his absence crumbled to his touch, you felt safe once again, causing you to mirror his teary eyes.

“D- Dumbass... You're supposed to ask that,” You chuckled softly, wiping the beads on your eyes that were on the verge of dropping.

He blinked a few times, before leaning in to rub his cheek along yours, chuckling along with you.

“Is this your schtick now? Playing hard to get?” An amused expression grows on his pretty features, as his thumb rubbed along the lines of your jaw.

The you before in the past would back down from his tease, looking away and turn beet red in silence. Except, he was talking to a woman who conquered her own emotions, being you.

“Yeah?” You mirrored his smirk, bringing both of your hands to his waist once again, leaning onto his neck while your warm breath automatically sent shivers down his spine.

“Says the one who was literally hard just now,” You chuckled against his neck, before planting a soft kiss that made him flinch.

“Not my fault that y—”

“Bladie, you're the one who started fucking my neck.”

“Ah.”

“...”

The both of you burst out in loving laughter, holding each other close as you embraced tightly afterwards, with remnants of your giggling that he missed so dearly, echoing within his ears, completely washing away the fact that the two of you had led a life of pain previously. Absolutely no one could deny the undying and unchanging love that was oozing in the both of your auras, even after years without being in each other's presence.

“Well?” Blade hummed, against your cheek, giving you soft, tender pecks while his thumb rubbed your other.

“Well what?”

“Babe, c'mon...”

He squeezed the both of your cheeks attempting to make you budge for an answer, he was trying to stay playful, but he couldn't help but feel anxious from your lack of seriousness that he desired in his previous important question.

Sensing his impatience, a faint smirk wells up on your lips as you bring your hands to his hands that were placed on your cheeks. You gaze longingly to his scarlet irises, your smirk replaced with a warm smile before whispering;

“Til' Death do us apart, Bladie.”

dont get back with your exes <3

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