#I have had this drawing sitting around in my drafts for forever that's why it's more finished looking than everything else | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nickfowlerrr · 1 year ago

Text

your forever is all that i need.

pairing: max burnett x curvy!reader

warnings: angst! smut! some fluff! 18+ ONLY. kinda soft!dark max if you squint. warnings not exhaustive but if something needs to be tagged, pls lmk!

words: 7.8k

notes: this guy has been sitting in my drafts waiting to be finished for months and i finally got it done. i think i like it 🥲 i hope you will, too! please let me know what you think. 🖤

thank you in advance for reading. as always, comments and reblogs are more than welcome and so appreciated.

You keep your head down, the baseball cap you’re wearing pulled low to aid your attempt at keeping your face concealed. The duffel bag you keep a tight grip on swings slightly with each step you take down the long, empty hallway of the apartment complex.

You reach the door leading to the stairwell and make your way down the steps until you finally get to ground level.

Pushing the lone metal door open ever so slightly, you peek out and make sure you’re still in the clear. No one's around. You walk through and head straight for the gate that leads you out to the parking garage.

You can feel your heart racing, your adrenaline pumping as you cross the lot. Lines of cars, but not another soul in sight.

You get the urge to look back over your shoulder as you walk but you fight against it and keep on to the car.

You’ve missed his call twice already and you just need to get out of the city before you can muster up the courage to call him back..

You unlock the doors with the click of a button as you approach. Your eyes leave the car for maybe two seconds as you pass a large cement pillar, looking down to fish your phone out of the deep pocket of your coat.

There’s a blur in your peripheral.

You look back up, your heart seizes in your chest, and you gasp as you halt in your path.

You suddenly find yourself mere inches from him as he stands before you, his gaze harsh as he stares daggers into you.

His jaw is set, eyes dark as you do nothing but stare back stupidly. Where did he come from?

"Fuck, Max," you say with a heavy breath, "you scared the hell outta me."

You try and calm yourself, playing it cool. You wait for him to respond, to say something, but he doesn't. The pit in your stomach only grows deeper at his silence.

You lift your phone in your hand, doing a show of waving it at him, "I was just about to call you," you lie effortlessly.

Still, he says nothing. Eyes narrowing as he takes you in, his gaze falling to the bag in your hand.

You swallow your nerves, praying he doesn't notice, as you step to him. His hands are in his pockets as he stands tall, still looking down at your own. Your gaze is set on him, not for a second straying from his face as you stand before him, nearly pressing yourself against him; trying to search his eyes, urging him to meet your own.

When he finally does, a shiver runs down your spine, though you're not sure of its cause.

Fear, worry, or maybe just the proximity to him that you hadn't had in a while.

Maybe something else...

His eyes are nearly black with how blown out his pupils are and the intensity of his gaze has you even more taken aback than you were a moment ago.

You can't let it show, though.

"Hi," you draw out, brows raised in faux confusion. As if you have no idea why he's acting so off. But of course you do.

He must know.

God, of course he knows.

But he hasn’t said anything. So still, you keep up the charade.

You drop the duffle lightly and wrap your arms around him as you look up at him. You're so close, so much so that you couldn't possibly get any closer - but that doesn't stop you from trying as you lean up on your tiptoes, chin tilted upward with a delicate pout playing on your lips.

He eyes you, his hands still in his pockets as he does nothing but watch.

You brush your lips against his softly, not expecting him to kiss back - and he doesn't - but he doesn't stop you, either.

You deflate, despite the expectedness of his lack of response, and let your feet meet the ground again as you tilt your head innocently at him, arms still wrapped around him.

"Max," you scoff lightly, a hint of a question in your tone. "Hey, I'm sorry I missed your call, but I really was just about to call you back," you try to defend yourself.

He stares for another unnerving moment before finally he responds,

"Calls," he corrects harshly. "Plural."

Your lips part as if you're going to speak, but you don't. Instead, you pull away from him, your brows furrowing. You let your eyes scan over his face, trying to assess him.

"Why does that sound accusatory?" you ask, letting your taken offense be known.

"What's in the bag?" he asks sharply, ignoring your question.

You stare one another down for a long moment. The thundering of your heart only grows louder in your ears as you do.

You were nervous before, scared more of what you were planning than of what his reaction would be to it. You didn’t want to tell him face to face, not because you thought he’d be truly upset but because you knew you’d back out if given the chance - whether Max cared or not.

But he was here now.

And he's upset?

If he knows, then is this him trying to… stop you?

If it is, great.

You're fucked.

Your plan is completely and totally fucked.

All of this, or at least the courage you had to attempt it, hinged on the fact that you wouldn’t have to see him, to be this close to him, again.

Your willpower around Max was near nothing and you knew that.

Maybe you could just take your bag and go. Would he really try all that hard to keep you here? You doubted it.

You both move in the same instant, but he's faster.

As you were reaching to grab the bag, Max planted a heavy foot on it, keeping it on the ground and out of your hands.

Your eyes dart from his shoe back up to his face. You take a deep breath as you stand straight and keep his gaze.

Well damn. It’s starting to seem like he cares.

But still, you need to get out, you remind yourself.

You can work this. There's always a way out.

You aren't thinking a plan through, not fully, you just start talking. It’s instinct. Stay in character. Never give yourself away.

He taught you that.

"I was just gonna open it for you," you say, aggrieved.

You stay still as he slowly reaches down to grab the duffle himself, his eyes never leaving you.

You watch him right back, refusing to let your discontent show.

All that’s in there is what little personal belongings and clothes you have. It doesn’t mean or prove anything. Can’t confirm or deny whatever it is he thinks you were planning on doing.

And maybe, well maybe you don’t have to go… You can just pretend this never happened. Prove him wrong and keep up like you had no intention to leave in the first place.

Fuck, it hasn’t been a minute and you’re losing it already.

"Well," you prompt him, "open it."

He considers you and you take note of the way he grips the bag in his hand, his knuckles nearly white, his hand is clenched so hard.

"Go to the car."

You resist the urge to roll your eyes at his command and move to walk to your car before his voice stops you.

"No," he grits out, "my car."

You look over in the direction he motions toward and see it, the sleek black Benz you somehow missed is parked across the way, but still on. You glance back to Max and he's already walking to it. You know you don't have a choice, not really, so you follow.

He throws your bag into the back and suddenly turns on you when you get closer, stopping you from rounding the car to get in on the passenger side.

You find your back pressed up against the vehicle as he closes in on you, jolting you a bit as he pushes you back, stealing the air from your lungs. He rips the hat off your head and throws it on the ground carelessly as he nearly snarls his words.

"How stupid do you think I am, huh?"

Your mind goes completely blank as you're stunned.

You've never seen Max this angry before, his apathy - though you hated it - was the norm. Or had been for the last six months or so. You hadn't seen him react to anything with any real care at all, not even you, in about as long. And never had you seen a real reaction from him to such a degree as this.

His anger and proximity were the only things you could focus on. That and the scent of his cologne that was invading your senses. Vaguely you register the longing for him that you’d been suppressing, the familiar scent you’d missed since having been away from him making you a bit dizzy as he crowded you.

"You know I know every trick in the book. I'm the one who taught them to you. So who are you trying to hide from? Who are you trying to run from? Because if I didn't know any better, angel, I'd think it was me." His hand is on your chin as he holds your face, his other planted next to your head as he keeps you against the car. "But I know better, don't I, baby," he smirks coldly.

You blink, lost in the torrent storms of his blue eyes, before forcing yourself to nod.

"Say it," he seethes, smile gone just as quickly as it had appeared.

"You know better," you say obediently in a near whisper as your chest brushes against his with your every breath.

He nods, leaning in closer, resting his forehead against your own for the briefest of moments before placing a chaste kiss on your skin as you shudder at the contact. His lips are by your ear now as he exhales heavily through his nose, "So do you," he tsks before dropping his hands and taking a step back as you stay where you are, eyes wide.

After a second, he motions with his head, signaling for you to move. He lets his tongue wet his lips and sniffs, "Get in."

You do as you're told, no arguing. There's no point.

You fall to him.

You’ll fall to him every time.

The second you close the car door behind you, Max peels out of the garage.

You look in the side mirror as your hat, the car, and your foolish plan to leave alone all slowly fade away.

You buckle yourself in as he speeds down the street.

You could chide yourself for your stupidity but, you really weren't all that stupid about this. You kind of knew, deep down, he'd know; that he'd see it coming a mile away. You just really didn't think he'd care.

You thought he had stopped caring a while ago. That he’d just let you go.

It was a simple plan. You'd just finished the job, Max had the money. You were supposed to meet up with him back home, the closest thing to one you'd had, and get resettled. For the time being, at least.

But you had other things in mind.

Your stage apartment, the place you'd been living for almost half a year now, didn't hold much - but neither did your duffle bag. Just the necessities. Always.

You cleared out nicely, still had the old car Max got for the job, and had enough cash to get out of the city and to last you for a while while you'd try to get settled somewhere new.

You had enough practice being someone different, becoming someone else for the sake of the job, you were sure starting fresh away from here would be easy compared to what you'd been doing the past three years.

And you were sure Max wouldn't care. He'd certainly given you that impression.

That he was over you. That he couldn’t care less.

You were tired. and sad. and lonely.

You never thought you could feel that way with him. It tore at you, the hurt threatened to dismantle you completely.

He was so close, but so, so far.

That’s what hurt the most.

He was right there, but he acted like you weren’t. You thought you’d done something wrong at first. You still remember the first night you kissed him and he just… didn’t kiss back.

You pretended you didn’t notice his lack of reciprocation but you quickly whispered a goodnight before you eventually cried yourself to sleep while he stayed out in the living room on his laptop.

He didn’t even bother to mutter a goodnight back.

With each month it only got worse.

He’d stop by your apartment less and less and would always be out when you tried to stop by his.

You realized maybe you hadn’t done anything, maybe he was just done with you. But he didn’t end things. No, he needed you. For now, at least. Until you finished the job, or maybe until he stumbled onto someone new.

You remember all he told you about his old partners. He was burned once and he’d be damned if he ever let that happen again.

You’d taken his face in your hands, peering into the depths of his deep blue eyes and swore to him he’d never have to worry about that with you.

And you were keeping your promise, weren’t you? You hadn’t tried to screw him over. You finished the job, made sure he got the score. All you were doing was leaving him to his own devices, the way he clearly preferred it. If anything, you were doing him a favor. Seeing yourself out so he wouldn’t have to end things himself.

Because, really, what were you supposed to do if not leave and put you both out of your misery? You couldn't take it anymore.

You loved him so much.

You love him so much.

You don’t want to leave but you can’t stay. Not like this. You’d rather miss him by being hundreds of miles away than miss him while he keeps you just a room away. And you couldn’t be there when he’d inevitably find that someone new. You couldn’t just wait for the final sword to be pierced through your heart.

You wouldn’t be able to live through it.

The tension is thick as you sit silently, looking listlessly out the tinted window while the city passes by you in a blur.

It’s not until Max gets on the highway that you realize you aren’t going home. You look over to him, staring for a moment as you try to keep your heart from racing. You aren’t scared, just concerned. You don’t like not knowing.

“Where are we going?” you ask after a long few seconds.

He doesn’t respond, his face still stony as his anger radiates off of him. He puts on music without sparing you a glance and you take it as your cue to be quiet. He’s too angry to talk right now, and though he’s pissed at you, he doesn’t want to snap on you.

It’s almost midnight, the lanes all across the road almost completely empty as he keeps on driving. You give up guessing where you’re headed to after he passes the last exit you recognize without getting off and resign yourself to the unknown.

You look out at the dark sky, the stars glowing brighter the further away from the city you get.

You find some solace in that.

As you rest your head against the window, your eyelids begin to feel heavy as your breathing slows.

You try to fight off the sleepiness as it threatens to take you down, but it's to no avail. Within a minute, you're sleeping as Max continues down the highway.

—

You startle awake at the honking of a semi truck, jolting up from where you lay on the reclined passenger seat. When did you do that? You blink your bleary eyes open as the sun shines brightly outside. You recognize you’re still in the car as you unbuckle your seatbelt and sit up, fixing the seat when you do.

You swallow thickly and unpleasantly as you cringe. You feel gross and a little disoriented from the heat of the sun combined with the weight of your long sleep.

You look around and realize you’re at a gas station. Checking the time, you find it’s already past seven. You’re surprised that you’ve slept so long, and that Max had driven for the same time. It dawns on you then that you have no idea where you are, and after seven hours of driving, you’re even more confused than you were last night.

Max isn’t at the pump, so you figure he must be inside.

You get out of the car, rubbing your eyes before you make your way across the lot and into the store.

You see him right away as he stands at the coolers grabbing water. On your way to him, you stop at the small toiletry section and grab a cheap disposable toothbrush.

You approach him carefully as he turns and spots you, waiting for you to get to him.

“Hey,” you say awkwardly, not knowing what else to go with. “I just need the bathroom, I’ll meet you back at the car.”

You don’t wait for a response, not sure he’d even planned on giving you one, as you head toward the big sign labeling the restrooms.

You quickly find a stall and relieve yourself. As you wash your hands at the sink, you can’t help but cringe at your reflection. Your makeup from yesterday is smudged and you look a little crazy, admittedly. You are feeling more well rested, though, so there’s at least one thing to be thankful for. You never slept well alone, and despite the physical discomfort of sleeping nearly eight hours in a car, this was the first time in months you’d gotten more than four hours of sleep without disturbance.

You open the package and take out the ninety nine cent toothbrush with the toothpaste already included. You run the bristles under the water for a second before you quickly brush your teeth. You really just want the feeling of sleep out of your mouth. You scrub at your tongue before spitting out the remnants of the sudsy paste and swirling with a bit of water.

The toothbrush does its job but doesn’t leave you with the minty feeling you were hoping for. As you toss the brush and the ripped packaging in the trash on your way out of the bathroom, you debate snagging a travel size mouthwash on your way out.

You stop in your path as you walk by a display of sunglasses. You don’t know what it is about the stand that somehow takes you back but you find yourself wondering when the last time you were in a gas station was. It’s silly, but you think it’s been a long while.

You look around and don’t see Max, but when you glance out the large glass window, you find him putting gas at the pump. His brilliant blue eyes hidden behind his dark, name brand glasses.

You turn and start looking at the cheap sunglasses, grabbing a pair of pink bedazzled ones and trying them on. You laugh at yourself in the small mirror before grabbing another pair to try on.

You go through five or six different styles before you settle on a simple, sleek black pair.

You aren’t sure how much longer you’ll be in the car, but you know you don’t want the sun shining in your eyes.

Before walking up to the counter, you wander around the aisles a bit, glancing outside every so often to ensure Max is still there.

You smile at the soda fountain and though you’re tempted to get the largest size they have, you know you’ll be lucky if Max lets you bring even the small one into his car without a complaint.

You fill the 12 oz cup with crushed ice and some raspberry iced tea, taking a sip before filling it back up and snapping on the plastic lid.

You don’t know why you’re feeling so free.. giddy, almost. It’s a stark difference from last night, and so far from anything you’ve felt these last few months, too.

It’s nice, not feeling so sad. And the more you wake up, the lighter you feel.

You mindlessly drink your tea as it cools you with each sip you take.

You glance out the window and see Max putting the cap back on the gas tank, so you quickly make your way to checkout.

You set down your drink and the glasses and fish in your pocket for the crumpled twenty you know you had.

As you pull it out and try to straighten it, the young blonde cashier speaks.

“Glasses are buy one get one right now,” she tells you as she rings you up, popping her gum.

“Oh, nice. Thanks,” you say as you flit back over to the stand. You knew which pair you were gonna grab the moment she let you know about the deal.

You smile as you grab them and hand them to her to scan when you get closer.

“It’s gonna be $11.14. You want a bag?”

“Uh, yes, please. And can I get two of those scratchers, too?” you ask pointing to the glimmering black and silver dollar scratch offs. She hums in affirmation as she pulls two for you and adds them to your total.

You hand her the twenty and grab the bag and your drink before pocketing the change when she gives it to you.

“Have a good one,” she bids you.

“Thanks,” you smile, “you, too.”

You walk to the car and pull your jacket off before you climb in as Max starts the engine.

He eyes your drink and bag but doesn’t say anything as you throw your jacket into the back and then buckle your seatbelt.

“I got you water,” he finally says after a moment.

You look at him in return, “thanks,” you say softly. There’s still some tension lingering between you, but it doesn’t feel as harsh as it had last night. This right here is the problem. When you’re together, everything is better. Even when it isn’t.

“Are you gonna tell me where we’re going now?” you ask, watching him closely.

He starts driving, heading out of the lot and back onto the highway.

The sun blinds you as you shield your eyes and quickly fish out the bejeweled pair of pink sunglasses you’d gotten free.

Max looks over to you briefly before returning his gaze to the road and your heart soars as he smiles to himself at your glasses.

“We’re less than an hour away,” he answers you without really answering you.

“You drove all night?”

“Yeah. You know I don’t mind a long drive. I have patience,” he says the last word more harshly as he adjusts his grip on the wheel.

There it is, you think to yourself.

Of course he wasn’t letting it go so quickly. He’d bring it up when he was ready to talk about it, and as he shifted his complete focus back to the road, you knew that time wasn’t now.

You watched as his jaw ticked slightly and you sighed to yourself.

Grabbing your cup, you took small sips from the straw, enjoying the way the drink went down. Cool, sweet, and smooth.

It relaxed you, easing the twisting of your stomach.

You settled in your seat and pulled out your phone.

You weren’t surprised by the lack of notifications; there wasn’t really anyone you kept in constant contact with, aside from Max.

As you looked up out the window, you were struck by the beauty that surrounded you. Gorgeous trees lined either side of the highway, and it was hitting you now how far away from the city you really were.

Max gets off at the next exit and you’re even more surprised by the naturescape you find yourself driving through. You’re on a two way road now and there’s no other cars in sight. As the road winds up and up, the sun is blocked out by the trees. Only glimmers of sunlight streaming through them every now and again as you continue on. You push up your glasses and look over to Max as he keeps driving, looking more relaxed once again.

It isn’t until you come upon what seems to be the start of a very long driveway that Max looks over at you.

You don’t return his gaze as you're wonderstruck at the massive house he’s driving up to. The long winding drive leads to a garage that is empty when it opens for Max’s car. The front yard is expansive and though it still blends into the wooded area, it’s well maintained.

You don’t even realize your mouth is hanging open until Max’s fingers gently take hold of your chin.

“You think this is nice, wait til we get inside,” he says before rescinding his touch, shutting off the car and getting out. He walks around and opens your door for you as you unbuckle.

You get out and pull your things from the back seat while he goes to the trunk.

You follow him and you're stunned when you see it’s packed full of his things. You stare stupidly as you watch him grab his own duffle and a suitcase before leading you out of the garage and up the path to the front door.

He unlocks the door with a key and pushes inside before stepping aside and letting you in.

You stand there in shock as you take it all in.

It looks like it came right out of a magazine. Everything looks so perfect. Cozy and comfy, and deceptively expensive, you’re sure.

You turn to him, a question in your eyes.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” he asks. You continue staring, eyes slightly widening as your brows raise; you’re unsure of what to say.

It is what you wanted, what you’d talked about late at night when you’d stay up telling each other everything. Secrets you’ve never uttered to another soul, all about your deepest, darkest desires, your dreams, what you truly wanted out of this life.

You remember the exact night you’d told him this specifically.

“A nice house,” you’d whispered into the dark as you laid against him in his bed, your head on his chest as he held you under the covers, listening intently as you spoke. “A big yard. Somewhere, away from the city. Near the mountains, maybe? Doesn’t have to be fancy. But I hope it’d be cozy. Pretty,” you smiled. “But I wouldn’t be picky. Just a nice place of my own. Somewhere I could finally call home.”

You had spoken the last sentence so quietly, so full of distant hope and longing, and mostly to yourself, you hadn’t been sure he’d even heard you.

He had stayed quiet after that, the only way you knew he was still awake was his hand smoothing up and down your skin, almost tickling you as he lulled you to sleep with his gentle touch.

That had been the night before you were set to meet your mark. The last night Max had held you so lovingly. After that was when things started to change. He was always on the phone, or on his computer, always meeting up with someone. Growing more and more distant. Too busy for you, his apathy only becoming more evident with each passing day.

It had been a long six months.

“Isn’t it?” he asked again, his voice pulling you back to the present.

You nod, blinking to hold back the unexpected wave of tears you could feel wanting to form.

“But,”

“But nothing. It’s what you wanted. It’s what you deserve.”

You shake your head as a lump in your throat forms. “I wanted it to be real,” you murmur, voice tight. You don’t know what it is you’re doing here. What the next job could possibly entail, but this is just… a different sort of cruel. Like all you’ve ever wanted is being dangled in front of your face, but it isn’t yours to keep as you're forced to play out another charade.

His touch is on you then, turning you to face him completely before he takes your face in his hands, stepping closer to you.

“What makes you think this isn’t real?” His voice is hard though you can hear how he tries to soften it for you.

“I can’t just play pretend for the rest of my life, Max. I can’t. I can’t pretend to be someone I’m not anymore. I don’t want to. To have to move around, living fake lives, never getting to settle down and make one of my own, I-”

“Angel,” he stops you, realizing what your thinking is as a tear slips down your cheek once the confession you never thought you’d say slips past your lips, “I know.”

His thumb wipes at the tear streak as he presses closer to you, leaning his head down to yours while you look up at him. The cold his eyes held before seems to melt as he looks at you. He continues.

“I’ve known. This isn’t temporary, baby. This is your house. It’s in your name and everything. Anything you don’t like, we’ll change. I bought it for you. For us.”

“Wh-,” you breathe, no words forming as you take in what he said. “For us?” your voice cracks as you repeat his words, more tears burning at your eyes. “I thought…”

“Thought what?”

It takes you a second to speak, “... I thought you were over me.”

Hurt flashes across his face before it’s replaced with some kind of indignation.

“Over you?” he says harshly, “I’ve spent months putting all of this together for you-”

“I didn’t know that, it felt like you were ignoring me. Avoiding me-”

“You don’t get all of my attention for a little while and you just assume I’m bored with you? You think that little of me?”

“No, Max. I just - I was hurt and I didn’t, what was I supposed to think?”

“How about you think about how much I love you. Have I not made that clear? I’ve given you every piece of me. I let you in, I took care of you - I take care of you and I love you like I’ve never loved anyone,” you can feel how upset he is as he holds you tighter, his voice cutting you with every word.

“Max,” you say as you grab his wrists. He doesn’t respond, only moves you back as he walks you toward the couch. “Max,” you say again, almost pleading.

Your legs are right against the couch as he towers over you, still holding your face in his hands as you hold his wrists.

“I love you,” he says, hurt seeping through entirely now as he speaks. You’re almost being bent back over the armrest as he continues to try to get even closer to you. You’re looking in his eyes with your bleary ones.

“I know,” you whisper, squeezing his wrists lightly, your thumbs mindlessly running over his skin, “I know.”

“I’d give you the entire world if you wanted it,” he says.

“I don’t want the world,” you breathe sharply. “I’ve only ever wanted you.”

His lips crash into yours without warning as he takes you by surprise. The intensity of the moment completely overwhelms you as you fall back over the armrest onto the couch, Max following you.

You both move up the long couch as your kisses turn messy and fervent, your hands finding his hair as his move under your clothes.

You’ve missed him more than you’d even realized. You’re desperate for him, every little touch, the lightest of brushes of his fingers over your delicate skin. You’re pulling him as close as possible as he crowds you, the reciprocity from him filling you with everything you’d been longing for.

So caught up in the feeling of him, your mind wasn’t thinking of anything else until Max spoke, his words almost a snarl in your ear.

“Everything we’ve been through together, and you were just gonna leave me? Without talking to me, without a goddamn word?”

His hand circled your throat as he spoke, but he didn’t apply much of any pressure. Even still, the feeling enlivened and distressed you all at once.

You didn’t have to speak your admittance, you both knew full well what you had been attempting - what point was there in trying to deny it.

“I tried to talk to you,” you whimpered, eyes watering with the tears threatening to flow over, “you never listened. You acted like I wasn't around. I felt like a ghost, like a burden on you. I didn't want to leave,” you stressed, needing him to know that truth, “but I thought you didn't want me around. I thought I’d be doing us both a favor.”

His hand relaxed around your throat and instead moved up to caress your cheek.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, staring at you with the softest look you’d ever seen. “I was caught up in all this, I was brushing you off. But, that was all it took?”

“Max,” you breathed, “even just one day without you, feels like an eternity. I didn’t think I could take it anymore.”

His nose brushes against yours as his eyes close, pained, before he presses his lips to yours, softer this time.

You return his kiss as it grows deeper, his hands moving down your body as he takes you in.

“You’re so dramatic,” he breathes against your skin. You huff, a hand in his hair as you keep him close. “Impatient,”he grits out, then another kiss, “needy.” His voice is low and rough.

You can feel yourself getting hotter with each word he speaks, and had it been anyone else, you’d be embarrassed by how wet you were getting. But you know that he knows exactly what he’s doing.

“Please, Max,” you whimper, puppy eyes on display as you pout.

He pulls away, dark eyes penetrating you.

“You know what,” he breathes heavily, “maybe it's time you learn a little something about patience.”

You gape up at him dumbly, not knowing what to say.

“You think you can manage that, angel? Or you gonna try and run off on me again?”

You frown, blinking away from his harsh gaze. “I can manage,” you whisper.

His grip on your chin forces your gaze up, an unbidden whimper leaving you.

“Look at me when you’re talking to me,” he orders.

You swallow hard with a nod, “I can manage.”

—

It’s tortuous the way he moves his tongue, tracing up and down your slit before plunging in and out of your dripping hole, moving back up to swirl over your sensitive clit.

Your body is slicked with sweat, your clothes long tossed away as Max played with you, bringing you to the very edge of pleasure over and over again just to tear it all away before you could reach your release.

You swear you’re about to combust as he sucks on your clit, his fingers buried deep inside your pussy. Your moan sounds from your throat as you keep your mouth shut, head thrown back in pleasure, eyes screwed shut, your hand fisted in his hair while he devours you.

Your hips buck up despite yourself and for the first time tonight, Max doesn’t pull away from you completely. This time, he grips your hip, burying his face deeper in your cunt as his fingers curl just right inside of you, coaxing you closer.

You’re a mess of gasps and moans as he moves his fingers faster, fucking you hard and deep as he keeps his tongue focused on playing with your clit.

“Oh- god! Max, I-, Max, Max, Max, I’m gonna-”

You can’t even hear yourself and your senseless babbling as he speeds up his movements while you cry out for him.

Your orgasm shatters you, your body going tense before you shake beneath him. You’re seeing stars, that glorious warmth washing over you, the pleasure of your orgasm crashing over you in never ending waves as you pulse around his fingers. Max doesn’t stop what he’s doing until your hand in his hair is tugging at him to stop.

You’re breathless, body tired and sweaty as you try to calm down for the intense high. When Max sits up, still between your legs, his chin is slick with your arousal and release as he licks his lips. His eyes are glued to your body, roving up to your chest as it rises and falls with your labored breathing before he crawls over you. You’re face to face as his bright blue eyes peer into your soul. You feel like you’re in a trance as you return his gaze. Your hand reaches to caress his cheek before he leans closer to you, kissing you deeply, letting his tongue lick into your mouth. You moan at the feeling, and the taste of yourself still on his tongue.

“You see the pay off you can get when you just have some patience?” he husks. You whimper as he pulls away from you.

He rids himself of his shirt as you sit up and, slowly at first, reach for his belt. He doesn’t stop you and you grow emboldened.

You fumble with the buckle for a moment in your haste before you get it undone, immediately going for the button of his pants.

His hands brush yours as he unzips and pushes his pants down with his briefs, freeing his erect cock. You can’t help but reach for him, wrapping your hand around his length. Your heavy lidded eyes are glued to his body, your free hand exploring him as goosebumps break out over his skin under your gentle touch.

His shaky intake of breath as you stroke him with one hand and ghost slowly up and down his side with the other fills you with a sense of accomplishment and pride.

You can’t keep your longing at bay as your hand speeds up, gripping him a bit tighter as you jerk him off.

The moan that tumbles from his lips has your desire growing tenfold, but Max stops you all too soon.

He pushes you to lie back down on the couch, eyes dark and focused solely on you. The intensity steals your already unsteady breath as you release a soft gasp from his push.

It’s quiet in the house, the only sounds to be heard are your labored breaths as you wait, simmering in anticipation.

Max leans over you, planting one hand next to your head as he holds his stiff length in his other, never breaking eye contact as he guides himself to your entrance, prodding you with his cock.

Your breath hitches as he pushes his tip just inside your tight hole. You don’t so much as blink as he leans himself down closer to you while pushing further inside you. You spread your legs as much as possible as your mouth opens in a silent moan. Max holds your waist as he begins rocking in and out of you, slow and deep with each thrust he drives into you.

You tremble beneath him, your eyes wanting to roll back into your head but you don’t want to look away from him for even a second. A part of you terrified he’ll disappear if you do.

You reach for him with one hand, pulling him closer by his hip, your other holding his hand as he holds you.

Your nose tingles as he moves even slower, hitting even deeper with every stroke, his fingers squeezing your plush waist. Everything feels so intense; strong, powerful, entirely overwhelming as your eyes fill with tears once more.

He smooths his hand from under yours, up your waist, over your breast and further until he’s holding your cheek, his thumb wiping away your stray tears. He leans down as he stops his hips, keeping himself fully sheathed in your tight warmth.

He kisses you, so gently. More tears roll down your cheeks as your eyes close, your hands urging his body closer. Your touch has his kiss growing deeper; not as soft, but just as passionate as he begins to roll his hips into yours again.

You gasp as he stimulates your clit, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, sliding against yours before you let him dominate it, following his lead - like you always do.

Like you always will.

Each rock of his hips stokes the fire building deep inside you. Your hands are clutching him like your life depends on it.

You can feel your walls flexing around his length, his groan at the sensation still audible through your kissing until he pulls away, nuzzling your nose with his as he refuses to put space between you as you both try to breathe.

“Fuck, it’s been too long,” he says, voice strained, eyes screwed shut. “I’m not gonna last with the way you’re squeezing me, baby.”

You mewl as he starts to move faster. It’s evident he’s close to coming and you’re beyond grateful because you know you’re right there with him.

The sound of his hips hitting against you grows louder with each thrust, his balls are slapping against you and the wet sounds of his cock sliding in and out of your cunt are as salacious as they are arousing - only pushing you further to the edge.

Your toes are curling as your muscles tighten, and a strangled moan leaves you. His rhythm is completely lost now as he fucks into you relentlessly. You can’t stop yourself from coming, your walls constricting around his cock as the high of your orgasm crash over you.

You feel the spurts of his come hitting your walls as he lets out a throaty moan, thrusting in and out of you, riding out the high as he fills you completely. Your name intermingled with curses leave his lips as he relishes in the orgasmic bliss.

When he can’t take it any longer, the sensitivity too much for him, he gently pulls out of you before he collapses down beside you.

You’re breathless as you lay there, reaching a hand to touch his chest, just wanting to feel him.

You turn onto your side to be chest to chest, face to face.

“I’ve missed you,” you say, your voice small and tight. He strokes your face lovingly as he watches your eyes well with unshed tears.

“I’ve missed you, too, baby.”

You try to blink away the new wave of tears but you’re unsuccessful. His touch only coaxes more as you finally feel safe enough to let them all out now that you’re in his arms again. He moves to hold you against him as you shudder, nuzzling closer.

He shushes you as you cry, kissing your head and rubbing your back in an attempt to soothe you. His warmth alone is a comfort. You don’t know how long you spend like that in his hold but finally your tears begin to subside.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper pathetically. “I’m so sorry, Max.”

He places a kiss on your forehead, “I know. It’s okay. And I know you, sweetheart. I know you’d never leave me, you wouldn’t have gone through with it. I know you wouldn’t have.”

You take a moment, worrying your lip before you look up to meet his gaze.

He waits for you to speak, seeing the thoughts and worry in your eyes and knowing you have something to say.

“I love you, Max. But I can’t do it anymore. I can’t live another lie. I can’t,” your voice breaks on your last words as Max cradles your face.

“Baby, why do you think I brought you out here? Why I bought all of this for you?”

Your brows furrow as you look into his soft gaze, needing him to say it outright before you can really start to believe what you think it is he means. He offers you a soft smirk,

“You can be done, sweetheart. You’re done.”

You breathe in a bit shakily, eyes wide and a pout on your lips.

“But I,” you take an unexpectedly sharp breath, “I don’t want you to leave me, either.”

He chuckles at the small tremble underlying your voice, gently kissing your pout.

“You’re so greedy,” he admonishes, holding your cheek before pulling you closer for another kiss. He sighs as he pulls away. “But if that’s what you need from me, then I’ll be done, too.”

You aren’t even thinking when you take his face in your hands and pull him to you again, pressing your lips to his firmly. You keep hold of him as you part.

“Yeah?” you ask, not sure he means it.

“For you,” he nods, “yeah.”

You share another deep kiss that takes your breath away before you have to pull away for air. You caress his hair, “So… we live here now?” The question sounds silly to you, but it’s genuine.

He nods with a smile and you nod in return.

“Well, as nice as this couch is, I’d love to see the rest of the place.”

“You ready for the tour?”

“Mhm,” you smile as he moves to get up over you. Before he can, though, you stop him. “Max, wait. I-...Thank you,” you say, carding a hand through his dark hair. “I never expected this, at all. But it’s all I’ve ever wanted. You’re all I’ve ever wanted.”

“I love you,” he whispers.

“I love you,” you return with watery eyes. Emotions getting the best of you yet again. But you can’t help it. You’ve missed him so much, missed being this close, hearing his voice, hearing those words.

He holds you again, lips against your ear, “I’m sorry, angel. Sorry I was so distant.” He kisses your temple. “I promise I’ll make it up to you, and I’ll never make you feel like that again.”

He turns your face to his and kisses you once again.

“I promise.”

There’s so much love in his gaze, and a sincerity in his eyes, one you couldn’t question even if you wanted to. So you readily return his kiss, you take him at his word. You believe him. Because it’s him.

It’ll always be him.

#max burnett x curvy!reader #max burnett x reader #max burnett smut #max burnett angst #max burnett fluff #max burnett #sebastian stan characters #max burnett fanfiction #max burnett one shot #max burnett x you #max sharper

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deadsetromance · 1 year ago

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IN THE WEE SMALL HOURS OF THE MORNING

(not my gif!)

gerard way x gn!reader

summary: he's your roommate...but maybe he's more than that.

warnings: unedited writing, fluff, no use of [y/n]

note: so sorry i haven't posted in forever! i have a few requests and a few more half-complete drafts, so hopefully those should be up soon <3

you supposed there were worse roommates out there. actually, thinking about it, you realized how lucky you were.

you got along really well with your roommate, gerard. he’d been sharing an apartment for nearly two years now, and you were sure you knew him better than you knew yourself.

you know he forgets to take the coffee pods out of the keurig, and sometimes he leaves the heater running for too long.

you don’t think you’ve ever seen him sleep. sometimes you wonder if he’s a vampire or something, what with the scribbling coming from his room at all hours of the night.

to be fair… you’re hardly any better. you sleep little more than he does, when you do fall asleep it’s usually on the couch, and you leave the television on all the time.

you’re incredibly lucky, you realize. lucky that he’s as sweet as he is, bringing you coffee in the mornings, and stopping by your job on his commute. he’s even slipped a few drawings your way. some are drawings of you, others are silly little doodles he gives you when you’re having a bad day. sometimes, he’ll show you characters for the comics he’s working on, asking for your input.

you realize that you’re lucky that he’s so helpful, that he’s not a creep, that you both get along so well. you’re lucky that you’ve found a friend who will sit and watch television reruns with you when neither of you can fall asleep.

that’s why you slip a record under his door one night. you don’t know if he even likes sinatra, but you give it to him anyway. there’s no special occasion really, you just thought of him when you found in the wee small hours in the record store you visited. you don’t sign your name on the post it you stuck to it. all you write is “from one insomniac to another”. you feel embarrassed for some reason you can’t place, and something slithers in your stomach. maybe you shouldn’t have given it to him…maybe he doesn’t like sinatra. it’s too late now though, it’s already done.

☠︎ ☠︎ ☠︎ ☠︎

it’s late one night…or early, depending on how you look at it. you’re tired, whatever movie you were watching forgotten and on mute. you can hear gerard milling around in the kitchen, you can smell the coffee he’s brewing. you’re tired, but you can’t fall asleep.

“thanks for the record” gerard called from the kitchen. “i really liked it”

you smile, one of those hazy tired smiles, the kind you do when you’re between being awake and asleep. “i didn’t know if you liked sinatra, i hope it’s ok”

you miss the way he grins at you, too busy yawning.

“it’s great i actually…” he walked off in the middle of his sentence, a habit you’d noticed he had, only to come back with the disk in his hands. “do you mind?”

it didn’t matter if you said no, he already turned to put it on, smiling back at you as he dropped the needle to the record.

“what are we watching?” he asked, sitting next to you on the couch. close enough to be touching you, but still far enough to give you space. it’s like a paradox, you think, but then you tell yourself to shut up. you’re too tired to know what you’re talking about.

“i dunno, i stopped paying attention.” your eyes flit to the movie playing on the television, watching the car chase for a moment before turning your attention back to him. “you’re going to keep yourself up all night drinking coffee this late.” you might have frowned at him if you weren’t too busy beaming.

he knew you were teasing, you could tell by the glint in his eye. “i just need a few finishing touches on my project and then i’m done.”

you didn’t say anything more for a while, taking a moment to take everything in. the record playing softly in the background as you curled closer to gerard. his head resting on yours as you listened to his breathing, memorizing the pace of his heart.

it’s quiet…intimate, and you’re tired. tired and happy.

“you tired?” he questions softly.

“a little,” you don’t know why you’re whispering.

“do you work tomorrow?”

“yeah, i open,” you groan, rubbing your eyes. you think you feel him press a kiss to the top of your head, but you don’t want to get your hopes up.

it’s quiet again, though this time it’s too quiet. you’re left with thoughts of gerard running through your head, and you wish that one of you would say something. you should be ashamed, you scold yourself, thinking of him the way you do when he’s sitting right next to you.

“what are you thinking about?” he prods gently. he’s soft with you, the way he always is, careful not to overstep with his questions.

“nothing really,” you lie, because you’d rather not risk what comfort you have now. “what are you thinking about?”

it seems like he didn’t expect the question to be turned back on him. he hesitates, and the silence is thick…too thick. his face is illuminated by the light from the tv, and he looks nervous. you don’t think you’ve ever seen him look quite as terrified as he does now. the lighting shifts, and he’s blanketed in darkness again, but you notice something change in his eyes.

“i think i love you” he whispers against your ear.

you feel like you can’t breathe. you think you heard him wrong. you’re worried this is all a dream, a good dream, the kind that would leave you reeling when you wake up.

you want to hear him say it again.

you lean your head back against his shoulder, and he breathes out with a shudder. you watch the explosions on tv as your hand finds his. “i love you too.”

that’s it then, everything is out in the open. maybe you’re tired, but you sigh gently as he cups your face in his hands. thinking back, you can’t exactly pinpoint when your feelings for him changed, but you suppose it doesn’t matter now. he loves you and you love him. it’s surprisingly simple.

“can i…?” he doesn’t need to finish his question as you lean in closer to him. his breath is warm, and he smells like coffee and sleepless nights, and you’re waiting for him. your eyes are closed as you breathe him in, and they stay that way as he kisses you softly.

he’s…soft, softer than you imagine, and you can’t help but smile.

in the wee small hours of the morning, he is yours, and you are his.

#gerard way x reader #gerard way #reader insert #x reader #my chemical romance #my chem #mcr #mcr fanfiction #mcr fanfic #fanfic #sfw #prtygoth

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orphic-musings · 1 year ago

Text

The warmth was never yours to begin with

Characters: Alhaitham x gn!reader, slight Kaveh x gn!reader

Genre: Angst, hurt (only slight comfort?)

Warnings: Some swear words, bittersweet ending

Summary: Spending time as Alhaitham’s unofficial assistant, you’re bound to be affected by his unfairly beautiful appearance. But is his aloofness disinterest, or do you even stand a chance in the first place?

Notes: This was randomly in my drafts and I had never posted it? Sorry for going completely AWOL lolza. I have some requests in my inbox but I might turn off requesting because it’s so hard for me to write unless it’s one of those random moments when I just go off and I don’t want people to wait forever for a reply. I’ll try my best to get to some that have been already submitted! Also, I suck at titles ☠️

He never says much to you, but the fact that he allows you to nap in his office while he works, or to tirelessly ask him questions about every subject on Teyvat. Despite his exasperated sighs, he always answers. And sometimes you can catch small slips in his stoic demeanor. Like the soft smiles he graces you with every time you bring him a cup of tea.

The two of you fall into a comfortable rhythm after time. Most people around the Akademiya recognize your unofficial title of “the Scribe’s assistant”. Al-haitham gets your convenient assistance while you get to spend the day in his handsome presence.

“Here’s your ink refill!” You say, carefully placing the fresh bottle on his desk.

“I didn’t ask for-“ He trails off as he notices the near dry bottle he was about to dip his pen into. He gave a light chuckle, appreciating how you were sometimes more observant than him.

“Um, would you like to join me at the tavern tonight. There’s a special on drinks.” You teeter on the balls of your feet before his desk, a clumsy smile on your face.

“I can’t. My useless pest of a roomate is coming home tonight and he didn’t tell me what time. He’ll tear the place apart looking for a way in if I’m not there to unlock the door.” He doesn’t look up from his work, but he does pause to nearly snap his pen in half.

“It’s funny how you only speak passionately when it’s about the person you hate the most. Perhaps I should invite him for drinks instead, if only to get him out of your hair.” You give a cheeky smile, which he only catches with a quick glance, but he only replies with his signature scoff.

He carries on with his work, and it continues uninterrupted the rest of the day. You occupy yourself by either sitting and reading or tidying up here and there. As the end of the work day draws near, you see Haitham busy as always. You make your way to the door and turn to bid him farewell, but hesitation gets caught in your throat. You step outside his office.

On your way to the tavern you pass by his house, merely out of curiosity, and sure enough a rather frustrated blonde man is waiting outside.

“Well if it isn’t the genius architect!” You exclaim while walking up to him. His face lights up when he sees you, as if you’re his saviour.

“Ah the honorable assistant, to what do I owe the pleasure? It wouldn’t happen to be about the keys, perhaps?”

“Unfortunately no, Al-haitham’s in another work trance. But I have a better idea. There’s a drink special tonight at Lambad’s, my treat.”

He grins and pushes himself off the doorway to stand next to you.

“I’ll gladly take you up on that offer, but I insist I pay for my fair share. Since that numbskull scribe doesn’t pay you… I can’t believe how he mooches off us unfortunate paupers.” He motions dramatically as you both walk off towards the tavern. “I don’t understand why you act so starstuck with him, that leech.”

You give a small laugh and wave him off. “If it weren’t for your debts I would think you weren’t getting paid either.”

“Hey! That’s…” Kaveh turns away and pouts in lieu of finishing his sentence, earning a laugh from you. Your banter continues on into the night as the two of you share drinks and laughter. By the time most of the bar has cleared out, Kaveh is unsteady on his feet and his cheeks are aflush. You escort him home while he talks away the rest of his energy. With him practically draped over your shoulder, you knock loudly on the door. Your giddy smile falters as you see Al-haitham’s looming figure open the door. Tired eyes glare at the two of you, and while Kaveh is too inebriated to notice or care, you feel shame prickle your cheeks and a weight settle in your stomach.

As you shrug Kaveh off your shoulder you half expect Alhaitham to let him fall to the floor. Instead, he keeps him upright with an outstretched hand barely touching his shoulder. In a sharp motions he tugs the swaying man inside and pulls the door closed. Before it slams shut Kaveh nudges his foot in the frame, mumbling a “get home safe”, though the words got a bit jumbled. You were halfway through a smile and wave when Haitham slammed it fully shut.

Now standing in front of their house alone you feel the chill of night creeping up your back. You already miss Kaveh’s warm company, his exaggerated and dramatic ramblings. But mostly his eyes that listen even when his mouth is busy. They see your every movement, signs of discomfort and excitment. They see through you and hear all the words you’ll never speak. It’s moments like those where you can really see his genius.

Alhaitham is a cold man, but he is by no means emotionless, or even lacking in empathy. You just thought he had a great control over them, and was selective with what he showed. Maybe too selective. But now you find yourself dreading seeing him tomorrow, wishing instead the night with Kaveh would never end. In truth, you have no obligation to him, but showing up seems less daunting than having to confront him. The walk back to your home is an eternity. Every moment you’ve spent with him, where you knew you felt his hesitation. When his silence felt so loud, when he could not feel farther out of reach. You knew better. But to say you could’ve prevented feelings would be untrue.

»»————-　♡　-————««

Alhaitham is an asshole. But you told yourself he was an asshole that liked you, just to be near him.

You finished organizing all his papers before dawn. His office is cleaner than you’ve ever seen it, even after only being there for 40 minutes. Every single document, new and old, are organized alphabetically. There is tea ready to be made, he only needs to boil the water. It’s spotless, and the sweat rolling across your skin makes you proud. You did hard work, and a good job, and it shows.

You leave quietly, and still only the few desperate students roam the halls hurriedly, paying you no mind as you steal away. Part of you hopes he appreciates this, or even notices it, even though you know you shouldn’t care what he thinks. It hurts for you to realize it, to face this damn situation. Love is a curse and you can’t shake it no matter how painfully you wish you could. It’s a curse and it makes you want to cast one of your own upon him.

As your mind tries to think about what you’ll do next, where you’ll go, you take a deep breath. Calm down. The rapid pace of your heart slows, and the anger and shame that ran thick like ink in your veins dissipates. There is no one at fault here, no reason to be angry or to feel regret or shame. Feeling achingly human and vulnurable, you lean upon a balcony on treasures street. An icy breeze lingering from the night caresses your face while you watch the sun timidly rise. It radiates colour all across the sky with pastels like soft breaths from Celestia. As it moves higher more vivid colours follow, sparking life into all they touch. Beneath the brilliant rays the water glitters and all the plants and trees are splotched with gold. Finally you feel its soft warmth reach you, touching your skin gently, and your hearts soars. The sun reminds you that you aren’t alone, and that it will still be there rising every morning, and it will still kiss you when you feel alone.

Inhaling, you close your eyes, relishing in the pure bliss of the moment. When you exhale you open them again, and your heart feels light. It doesn’t matter where you go, you realize, because you will still have yourself, and the sun, and all the land it touches. You remember where you are suddenly, and you turn to look up at the Akademiya far above you. Alhaitham will likely be settling into his office now, and the image of his unfairly beautiful face still stings you a little. But it leaves you with no bitterness, not anymore.

#fanfic #x gn reader #genshin impact #genshin x reader #alhaitham x reader #genshin alhaitham #alhaitham #genshin impact kaveh #kaveh x reader #gi kaveh #gn reader #genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin x reader angst #alhaitham angst #orphic musings

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thinkaboutmeff7au · 2 years ago

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flash time 109

(original draft date: 12/16/17)

1998.

This is an old album. I was only, what, 7 or 8 when it came out? When the next one came out, I was old enough to listen to it, and even relate to it a little later. This one reeks of the decade it was made in, the pop-rock of the era. So I’m lukewarm on it.

It’s almost the end of the first side. I almost flipped it early, since it ends with a ballad. But…

“Do you always trust your first initial feeling? Special knowledge holds true, bears believing…”

I take another drag of my cigarette as I sit on my bed, watching the record turn. I’ve been alone most of the day…I’ve been sober most of the day, only because I tripped too hard last night and was still feeling it this morning. It’s been a while since I actually listened to this song. The water closing all around me…LOVELESS is still fresh, I reread it while I was still a little high. They’re kinda similar…

It’s haunting…it’s got meaning to it…

I’m swaying where I sit, the cigarette smoking faintly in my lap. Angeal liked this album, didn’t he? Among all the fuckin’ jazz he listened to. I miss him. Of course I still do. My head feels like it’s spinning.

“How the faces of love have changed, turning the pages, And I have changed, oh but you, you remain ageless…”

My gaze still sits in soft focus, but I hear my apartment door open. “Hey.” It’s Seph, who else would it be? Who else made himself keys for my apartment without me knowing…who else would let themselves in, unannounced…I don’t move. I barely blink. His footsteps echo as he looks for me. Nope, I’m not in the kitchen, not in the living room. “Gen?”

“I turned around and the water was closing all around me, Like a glove, like a love that had finally, finally found me…”

He finally finds me, pushing the door open. I expect him to demand my attention as I’m spacing out, as I take another smoke and let it slowly drift out of my mouth and my nose.

“Then I knew in the crystalline knowledge of you…”

Seph wanders over to me, slowly. He steps in front of me, and only then do I look up. I can’t tell the emotion on his face--it’s blank, but not quite. He takes the cigarette away from me, and takes a drag himself. Then, he sets it in the ashtray on my nightstand, blowing most of it to the side. His hair is down…he’s been wearing it up the last few days at work…

He bends over and lifts my chin up. It’s all very slow, like we’re in a dream. He draws his face closer, still with that odd expression. I keep my mouth shut--I’m sure I’d break him if I spoke, but I don’t feel like it anyway.

We kiss.

Something I’ve noticed: when he’s sober, he kisses a lot harder than when he’s high. But i know he’s not high, and it’s so…soft. It’s so gentle I can barely stand it. Not like this. Fucking hell. But I feed into it. There’s still smoke drifting from my nose, and I keep letting it trickle out, trickle out, trickle out. When we’re high, this moment would last forever--my chin in his hand, our lips together. My arm reaches out to play with the end of his hair, sheathed around us. I let it sift between my fingers.

It doesn’t last forever. He backs off first.

“Wait,” I mutter.

He stops short, a hair away from my lips. If I focus, I can look right into those electric-blue green eyes. intense even as heavy lidded as they are. My lips twitch into a smirk. Being this close…is intoxicating in its own way. “Stay there,” I whisper.

“Why?” he asks, not moving.

“‘Cause I said so,” I reply.

He blinks, and frowns, just slightly. His hand drifts away from my face, and he stands up straight. There’s the haughty pout that I’m used to, that self-righteous attitude that intrigued me from when I first knew him as a teenager. Barely 18, throwing himself into SOLDIER. And me, shy of 21, already tainted by Shinra, ready to burn it all down. And yet.

“You drove me like a magnet to the sea…”

Seph crosses his arms. “Don’t tell me what to do,” he says. And he turns on his heel and leaves. He doesn’t leave my apartment, just my bedroom, and I can hear the refrigerator open from the kitchen. I stay where I am, unable to move, still able to taste him on my tongue. I loved Angeal, of course I did. That was easy, that was obvious.

Do I love you, Sephiroth?

Is that obvious, too?

(G.)

#i held onto this one because it felt too...i dunno cheesy? sentimental? gay??????#now i say: WhatEver #flash time

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lale-txt · 3 years ago

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"i don't want to be alone tonight." w/ Smoker & gn!reader

a/n: requested by my love @werewolfsupersoldier <3 thank you for sharing the Smokey love with me, even though you ruin me daily with your horny thoughts about him. i shall use those for the smut request with him i still have in my drafts... anyway, ily, please accept my humble offer of our man!

word count: 769

You sigh heavy against his broad back, arms wrapped around his waist to prevent him from getting up. Smoker was sitting on the edge of the bed, putting on his pants, an unlit cigar dangling from the corner of his mouth. Duty called.

It’s not like you had by any means the physical strength to stop him from getting up, but you could try, right?

“Don’t make this any harder than it already is, my love.”, he huffs, holding still as your hands wander over his torso as if they could keep him from leaving if only you find the right grip on him. You snuggle closer to him, burying your face in the back of his neck.

“I don’t want to be alone tonight.”, you plead in your sweetest voice, knowing that in fact, it would make this any harder than it already was. Sure, Smoker was a busy man who took his job very seriously. But tonight you were needy and you were tired, you wanted to sink into his arms and dream about vacation with him, about spending more than half a night together until he had to leave for his next mission. You wanted to wake up with him, have breakfast together and crawl back into bed again, both of you reading the same book while you sit in his lap, his fingers playing absentmindedly with your hair.

You could still dream, right?

Smoker sighs, ruffling his hair and slouching in defeat. He was a tough guy who took no orders from no one, but for you? He was such a softie. How could he not be when you kiss his neck and temples so gently, so full of love; tracing his scars with your fingertips as if you were drawing a map of his body? Did you know that when he closed his eyes, all he could think about was you? Your face, resting peacefully against his chest, your outstretched hands at the beachside, your smile shining brighter than the sun?

He turns around to pull you into his lap, his arms firm around you as you straddle him. You rest your forehead against his, your arms wrapped around his neck, your fingertips fondling with his messy bed hair. You lean in for a gentle kiss, sighing a little when your lips touch and his hand wanders up to your head, holding you with such tenderness it almost makes you cry.

“Don’t look at me like that.” – “What do you mean?”, you ask with a pouty face, miserably failing at hiding your sadness about him having to leave. You wished you could stay like that forever, his rough hands holding you so tightly and yet so carefully, as if you were made of glass. He would never, ever hurt you, that’s what you knew for sure.

“You know what happened last time I left those fools of G-5 unattended…”, he groans, visibly struggling with himself between staying with you and doing his job with care. Why exactly had you had to fall for such a conscientious marine?

“You know what happened last time you left me unattended, right?”, you cooed, revoking a memory in him that he had buried deep inside of his mind, involving you, a flame thrower and an attempt at crème brulée that went terribly wrong.

He shuts you up with a kiss, letting himself fall back on the mattress and pulling you down with him. In a sneaky motion he flips you around like a pancake, so now he is the one pinning you down, hovering over you with a smug smile. You grin in excitement, only to pout again when he kisses your forehead and makes an attempt to get up.

“How about we make a deal? I promise I’ll be back in the morning and I bring some of the croissants from the bakery that you love so much? And we’ll have breakfast together and a nice day off, I’ll take you shopping or we go to the gallery you told me about? I think Tashigi can handle those idiots for a day on her own…”

Now it was your turn to seal his lips with a kiss, humming softly against them when you feel him return it, soft and intimate. He had your whole heart, no matter how often or how far you were apart. And while you loved to fall asleep in his arms, you knew he would always come back to you and your hearts would recognize each other just like they did when you met for the first time. It was a love so soft, so tender.

#captain smoker #vice admiral smoker #op smoker #smoker x reader #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece reader insert #one piece fluff #one piece fanfiction #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #dream machine event

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itsstrange · 3 years ago

Text

Uncle Billy

Relationship: Billy Butcher x Rylee Milk (OFC)

Fandom: The Boys

A/N: Here’s another Billy Butcher fic because why not?? This was originally posted on my IG account but has been sitting in my drafts for a while now. It’s just something soft and something different. Hope y’all enjoy 💚✨

Summary: An unexpected guest invites themselves into school grounds, M.M is not having it but Rylee is sure enjoying it.

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: (None) Fluff, cute, Butcher being the fluffy/funny/supportive over protective Uncle.

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Enjoy! 💚✨

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Being popular and well known for throwing large parties or being in the football team, or the basketball team or the cheerleading team is one thing, but being well known for being the English teachers daughter is another thing, and that’s who Rylee is. The oldest daughter of Marvin T. Milk. It was embarrassing, or so her teenage mind thought, but as she grew up and got more mature she honestly got use to being known as the teachers daughter. In the beginning of freshman year she tried her best to hide it from everyone, minus her close friends, but once she entered her final period of the first day of high school, she just wished she had the power to turn invisible. Sitting on the desk with a iPad in his hands was her father, and once he made eye contact with her he made sure to greet her in the most exposing, embarrassing way. In case you’re wondering, yes, he greeted her as if she was 5 years old, and just because of that she had gotten shit from it ever since.

However, that died down once a specific person in her life found out their favorite niece was getting teased, and let’s just say that will forever be a favorite highlight of hers. Yes, people still know she’s the teachers daughter, but they all know better than to tease her with the fact, mainly because everyone has already matured to start shit like that, but also because they know she has somebody that’ll find out if they did.

Speaking of somebody, as Rylee was nose down in her test, she could immediately hear the way her father softly curses under his breath and catches the moment he gets up from his desk and towards the door. She can hear him mumbling things to the person outside, but before she can guess who it was that familiar black coat is the first thing she sees entering, then his black thick beard and hair, from where she sat she can tell he had trimmed both hair and beard from the last time she saw him. As both males enter the classroom, they’re still whispering amongst each other, well more like Rylee’s father trying to stop his stubborn friend from entering the class.

“Butcher seriously not now, they’re taking a test,” M.M calls after him but doesn’t really stop him from sitting down on his chair,

“I’ll be quiet as a daisy,” He throws him his iconic smile before looking down at some stacks of paper in front of him, scoffing as he scans some students paper, mumbling under his breath ‘plonker’ before reaching out for the red pen on the side,

Although, before he can even mark the paper with his idiotic-ness or leave some inappropriate British slang on the kids paper, M.M yanks the pen out of his hands and starts collecting the papers from the desk, awhile asking his friend why he decides to bring his negativity around school grounds.

“Lunch break, was around. Thought I stop by, throw a lil wave at ya,” He states, grabbing some sticky-notes from his right and another pen,

M.M scoffs with a shake of his head. He can never win with this man, yet he still kept him in his life and the other male kept him around as well, guess they had a much bigger bond then they assumed.

“Couldn’t your white ass wait until six, better yet until dinner?” M.M asks but quickly looks over his shoulder when he spoke a bit too loud, giving his students an apologetic wave, but lingers his eyes on Rylee who just sends him a shake of her head with a small smile,

“What’s so ‘rong in visitin’ a close mate o’ mine?” Butcher asks, still writing or drawing something on the yellow sticky note,

“It’s wrong if you show up during school hours..,” Rylee softly chuckles to herself as she tries to focus on her test but still being able to hear her father and friend talking to each other in the distance,

They remained talking to one another, but Rylee did her best in not eavesdropping, if her father knew she was listening in on their pointless conversation and not finishing her test on time, she knew she’d get a lecture from him back home. So to save her from misery, she did her best in focusing on the test in front of her, even if she’s already passing the class with a solid A-plus, she knew it was important to get as much good grades as she can for college, college applications were around the corner so it was not the time to slack off with anything.

As she was reading the last section of the test, she hears her father curse once again, which marks the twentieth time he curses on school grounds, which never happens but then again, Butcher was here. Butcher is the cause for her father’s foul language, he is always the cause for her fathers language.

"Shit... I gotta take this," M.M whispers as he looks down at his phone but glances back up to the kids who are working on their class work,

"’ave at it, I can watch the little buggers," Butcher offers, leaning back against the chair with his feet prompt up the desk, earning a scowl from the man in front of him,

M.M immediately shakes his head, "Nuh huh, not by a long shot," He claims as he shoves the man’s unsanitary boots off his space,

"Just while you take the call, they won't even know I'm ere'” Butcher argues back as he gets more comfortable in the chair, replacing his feet back on the desk when shoved off,

Now normally, M.M would have an entire list why he wouldn't let Butcher alone or near the kids, he's actually surprised he hadn't even called security on him, no, he’s actually surprised they let him inside the school, but he honestly did have to take the call. So with a defeated sigh he agrees.

"Just watch them, nothing else man," M.M points at him, seriousness settled in his tone,

Butcher raises both hands and pretends to zip his mouth shut. Narrowing his eyes once again, M.M makes his way out the classroom. Just as the door closes, Butcher looks back to the kids and immediately recognizes a face, sending her a wave with his fingers, earning a shy wave back.

"You know him?" A low voice makes her look away,

She only nods with a shrug, "That's my Uncle Billy,”

She casually explains to the boy beside her with a shrug of her shoulders, clearly not phased by the way he raises his brows at her for the unknown fact, or maybe due to the fact he’d never in a million years think this sketchy Brit of a man was anywhere related to her.

Turning back to the brute of a man, Rylee smiles at him before going back to her work. Not even five minutes had passed when she suddenly sees a yellow sticky note being placed in her view, which had a middle finger drawn that was pointing side ways which showed the remaining answers to her test. Glancing up she watches Butcher walk back to the desk before sending her a smirk and a wink, causing Rylee to shake her head with a smirk of her own before marking the correct answers on her paper. Cheating is technically considered to be a sin, especially when it comes to finals, but whenever she’s around her Uncle Billy nothing feels like a sin. Which should not be a good thing, but she didn’t care.

Just don’t let her parents hear her, or else she’ll get in trouble or grounded for weeks, and Butcher would not be welcomed to the house. Again.

By the time M.M walks back inside the classroom Rylee had just finished her test and was just sitting there for the timer to go off, meanwhile Butcher was leaning back against the chair, feet prompt up the desk with phone in his hands. Who was most likely scrolling through any news, or just watching random videos on YouTube. Once again, within reach, M.M slaps the man’s dirty boots off his desk awhile mumbling under his breath about how he’ll cut off his damn feet if he keeps it up, his remark was loud enough to earn a couple snickers from students, including Rylee.

Getting up from her desk Rylee walks over to both men and gently places her test in the center of her fathers desk.

“Reviewed everything?” M.M asks her, sitting on the edge of his desk since Butcher still hasn’t gotten up from his chair,

Rylee nods her head with a small smile, “You sure?”

“O' course she is she’s practically Stephen fuckin' Hawking. Matter o' fact, there’s no point in gradin' 'er paper just give 'er a passin' grade,” Butcher comments, already reaching out towards her paper with a red pen but immediately gets it taken from his grip.

“Y’Can’t just pass someone because you know they’re smart dickhead, even the smartest people can make mistakes,” M.M claims, putting his daughters test away from his friends idiotic prying hands,

Butcher scoffs with a roll of his eyes, not understanding why his friend is planning on wasting his time in grading his nieces paper when they both know everything would be on point.

“I’m sure you did great baby, just gotta make sure of it,” M.M sends her a reassuring smile which he receives back,

“Yer’re wastin’ yor time mate,”

“And you..,” M.M turns back to the Brit, shoving off his feet once again, “Are too. You should be heading back to the precinct by now, Mallory ain’t gonna take none of your shitty excuses today,”

Butcher scoffs again, “Does she ever?”

But rises from the chair regardless, placing the red pen back in its place along with the rest of the red pens, knowing all too well his friend has a thing with having his space organized. He can be an asshole… most of the time, but not always.

“Arright awright I’ll leg it, I’ll see ya at dinner. Will bring a bottle o’ wine or somethin’” The whole time both men were having a conversation Rylee just stood silently, chuckling at them every once and a while,

After confirming the proper time to arrive at the Milks’ home, both men firmly hug each other, making Rylee’s lips curl upwards. She truly loved their friendship. Walking around M.M, Butcher makes his way over to Rylee where he engulfs her into a tight embrace. He smiles to himself when he feels the way her arms snake their way inside his coat and around his waist, as well as feeling the side of her cheek against his chest. Kissing the top of her head and sending her a wink, they pull away from each other. Rylee doesn’t go back to her desk until the brute man finally walks out the classrooms, then chuckles when her fathers curses under his breath again when you can clearly hear Butcher whistling down the hallways.

When she walks back to her desk and sits down, she looks up the same time her fathers back is facing the entire classroom. Rylee squints when she sees something. Stuck on the upper edge of his right shoulder was a bright neon sticky note with black bold letters that said..

Cunt.

The loud snicker that escapes from her causes her father along with a couple students to glance her way, but she was quick to shut up by pretending to cough in her hand, even if she knew it wasn’t believable she still made it seem as if she was coughing. Her father sends her a look before turning back around to whatever he was doing, sticky note still plastered onto his shoulder. Rylee only shakes her head with a silent chuckle, knowing all too well once her father finds out he’ll be giving hell to Butcher later at dinner.

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- Hope y’all enjoyed this short fic! Had this idea for a while now and was really excited to finally write it for y’all! ✨

-Anyways! Make sure to Turn On Post Notifications!!! 🔔 For more Updates like this!!

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#billy butcher #billy butcher x reader #billy butcher x ofc #Billy butcher x Rylee Milk #karl urban #karl urban x reader #the boys #the boys imagine #the boys tv #fluff

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kydrogendragon · 3 years ago

Text

So, so sorry these took literally forever! But I'm finally getting around to clearing out my inbox now!

Also, I've no idea why Tumblr is breaking, but it refused to let me save more to the draft I had started, so I had to make a different post.

@undead-dante's request!

Pairing: Mammon x MC Rating: T Word Count: 7037 Warnings: Bodily Harm, Blood, Character Death, Spoilers up to Ch. 16-17~ Prompt: Damage done to a person also translates into their soulmate’s body (cuts, bruises and all). Notes: The events mostly follow the actual plot, but some changes were made like the MC's ankle getting hurt rather than their wrist in the TSL contest. This also went a lot longer than I expected it to, but this prompt was just too good.

It all started with a paper cut.

It was just a week after the human was dumped on him and a whopping five days since they finagled a pact out of him. Poor Goldie, being held captive and used as ransom. It was cruel, unforgivable, but as much as he hated it, he was stuck on babysitting duty thanks to his dear older brother.

The pair sat in class - not together, of course. There was no way he was gonna have the human sit next to him during class as well. Having to share a near-identical schedule was torture enough. The professor droned on, reciting the intricacies of the Harpie Revolt of 612. Mammon slouched in his seat, opting to fiddle with his pen rather than spend his mental energy on some stupid war that he was alive for.

The demon next to him, Thaddeus, nudged him, tilting his phone screen under the desk to him. Mammon smirked at the overly cutesy emoji of Lucifer on a unicorn. He was glad that was getting around. In the back of his mind, he knew they were all gonna suffer for it once Lucifer got word of it, but by then, the damage would be done, and that was worth it.

Mammon flinched, swallowing the yelp that nearly escaped his lips. He looked down at his finger where the sudden pain came from, trying to figure out what the hell he did when a small line peaked through his skin. Mammon stared at the droplet of blood that pooled from the small break on the pad of his finger. His brows furrowed, watching as it slowly trailed down his skin, only reaching a knuckle down before running out of blood. His gaze flicked back up to find the cut now sealed as if it had never been there in the first place.

The demon grumbled, sticking his finger in his mouth, his tongue removing the offending liquid before wiping his hands on his pants. It had been ages since he'd gotten a paper cut, the last time being that the paper he touched was cursed to always give you paper cuts, no matter what. Demons were known for being tough and hard to injure, especially to the point of drawing blood. Yet here, in the middle of Devildom History, The Great Mammon got a paper cut!

He shook his head, his eyes finding their way to the human sitting across the room, next to the window upfront. They stared down at their own finger and cursed silently under their breath. Mammon could make out the spot of red on their own finger. He watched as they gently wiped their finger on the fabric of their jacket before continuing their work.

Huh.

The TSL tournament did not go as planned. Well, it did, technically. MC successfully got Levi caught up in his Sin, but Mammon forgot just how likely Levi was to attack the human for this. Mammon watched as Levi turned to the human, envy, and anger burning in his eyes as he shifted to his demon form. Mammon cursed as his younger brother stalked forward to the human, his tail lashing out behind him. Mammon heard the human cry out his name as Levi approached, their gaze snapping to him. Their eyes were wide with fear, and for a good reason.

Mammon jumped up from the table, prepared to pull them away from danger only to find himself face-planted on the ground, his ankle groaning in pain. He looked down at the puddle that filled the entire area by Beel and cursed. He struggled back to his feet, his heart racing as Levi closed in as he told his gluttonous brother off.

Mere seconds later, the sound of feathers rustling in the wind and Lucifer's voice bellowing through the room was heard. Mammon looked up and saw his elder brother standing between Levi and MC. Not long after, Levi scurried away, his demon form gone. Mammon got up, quickly making his way to MC's side. His eyes looked them over, noticing they favored one leg over the other. Lucifer lectured them briefly before dismissing them, ordering Mammon to see to the human's leg. Despite their protest, Mammon pulled them up in his arm and made his way to their room.

Mammon sat in front of them, their foot resting on his knee as he wrapped gauze around their ankle, muttering under his breath as he worked. Was it too loose? Too tight? He had no idea; humans were fickle. The human sat on the edge of their bed and watched, occasionally wincing as he worked.

"Sorry," they said, their voice not much louder than a whisper. Mammon looked up, his blue eyes finding theirs. He stared, his eyes flicking across their face, searching. MC's gaze drifted from his, finding the floor and the walls a much more exciting place to look. He huffed, head dropping back down to his work.

"Yeah, well, ya should be," he said, frowning as he unwrapped part of the gauze to redo it for the fourth time tonight. "Next time, your life's in danger, I'll be the one to save you, all right? Don't you forget that. "He growled as he unwrapped the section he just did and began wrapping it a bit tighter, his eyes glancing up to find any trace of pain in their face. Their hands fiddled with the sheets beneath them. They stayed silent but nodded their head. Mammon huffed again.

"And if I can't manage to save ya, then make sure you die, got it? I don't want no one else stepping in and saving you, all right? So it's me or no one, understand?"

The human chuckled. "All right, got it," the human said with a slight smile. Mammon could feel his cheeks warming. They were so quick to agree. He'd gotten so used to being dismissed, it was weird. He shuffled, ignoring the sensation the best he could.

"G-good," he stumbled as he finished tying the gauze up. "You should always just agree with me like that." They hummed, watching as Mammon stood back up with his hands on his hips. "Now, stop causing me all this trouble, or you'll regret it, got it?"

MC nodded, looking down at their not-so-neatly wrapped ankle. They gave it a slight wiggle and smiled, seemingly satisfied with the job. "Thanks, by the way," they said, looking back up at the demon in front of them. "You didn't have to do this."

Mammon glanced to the side, crossing his arms across his chest. "Yeah, well, I was feelin' generous was all, so appreciate it." He heard them laugh before speaking again.

"I do. Thank you, Mammon." The white-haired demon turned around, not wanting them to see his reddened face.

"Yeah, sure, whatever," he grumbled out as he stepped out of their room. Mammon made his way down the hallways dark hallways, hands in his pockets. He could hear his brothers chatting in the living room as he made his way down the stairs to his own room. Closing the door behind him, he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"Stupid human," he muttered to himself. He made his way to his bed, collapsing into the plush mattress with a groan. His blue eyes stared up at the ceiling, his mind replaying Lucifer's rescue (his fail) in his mind. Mammon winced. His ankle twinged in pain. Mammon sat up, pulling his leg closer to him.

It didn't look bad, but it did hurt and looked like it was beginning to swell. Mammon sighed as he lay back down. It must have happened when he dripped over Beel's mess, but that shouldn't cause a sprained ankle. Maybe for a human, but for a demon?

Mammon groaned, dragging his hands down his face. Was he getting weaker? What the hell was going on with him lately?

Dialovo's dances were always a drag if you asked him. Too much small talk with too many nobles and Barbatos always managing to stop him before nabbing anything of value. Mammon sighed as he leaned up against the pillar, watching as the swaths of demons danced across the floor. He could make out Simeon and Luke towards the back near one of the food tables. Solomon was carried across the dance floor by Asmo, twirling each other around.

Mammon rolled his eyes as he fiddled with the hanging decor on his jacket. This weekend was driving him insane. First, they had that tour that led to them all getting chased by Levi's giant snake. Then, they had that stupid scavenger hunt today, and now he's stuck at this stupid dance. It was all a waste of his time, he could be out making millions of Grimm at the casino, or hell, even snag a win at the race track.

"Hey!" a voice called a few feet from him. Mammon jumped, his eyes snapping up to see MC walking towards him with a smile on their face.

"H-hey," he said, taking in their outfit. Asmo really did do a good job picking it out and getting them ready for the dance. Mammon wasn't sure of the last time he saw someone that took his breath away like this.

MC's gaze looked him up and down, taking in his demon form. "So," they said, meeting his eyes again. "This is quite the party. When Diavolo said we were going to have a dance tonight, I didn't expect anything this grand."

Mammon chuckled. "That's Diavolo for ya. Get used to his crazy ideas and giant parties. I doubt this'll be the last of 'em." MC moved to stand next to him, their eyes looking over the crowd. They smiled.

Mammon watched them, noticing how their gaze followed the dancing couples on the floor with eagerness.

"Hey, so, um. Like... you've gotta have weird tastes to ask a human-like you to dance. I'm guessin' no one here's gonna do that, huh?" Mammon laughed nervously. "So, y'know, as long as you don't have a partner, I guess I could maybe go ahead and pair up with you for a little bit." He glanced over to them. MC rolled their eyes and opened their mouth to speak when suddenly Lucifer appeared in front of the two of them out of nowhere.

"MC, come dance with me. Now."

"Hey!" Mammon exclaimed as Lucifer grabbed MC's hand and pulled them away and onto the dance floor. Mammon grumbled, slumping against the pillar as he watched his human be guided along by his older brother.

Wait. His human?

No. No, no, no, no, no. The human.

Mammon shook his head, ridding the thoughts from his brain. Then, with a sigh, he made his way for the refreshments table. Most of the food was gone at this point; only a pitiful amount of Demonus remained. Beel had been through here already, it seemed.

He grabbed a glass and downed it, something he should have done from the beginning. He set the empty glass down and grabbed another as he turned back to the main floor. His eyes quickly found MC and Lucifer in the crowd looking too close for comfort if you asked him.

MC's face winced, their eyes darting around like they were looking for something. "Ah!" Mammon cried out as he dropped his glass. His hand throbbed. It felt like some invisible force was squeezing him, crushing his hand. He held it up, trying to find the cause, when it suddenly stopped. Mammon blinked, turning his hand over and over. Was that glass cursed or something?

Internally shrugging, he looked back up only to see MC now dancing with Solomon of all people! Mammon groaned.

They had finally survived the weekend at the castle, and Mammon was ready to sit his ass in his room with a cup of noodles and play some online poker, something he's been deprived of for too long. Yet, here they were, unloading the car as Satan and Lucifer had to get into another fight. He tuned them out the best he could, just wanting to be done and relax when he heard MC's hesitant voice.

Mammon turned to the conversation, which now looked more like Satan grinning like the Cheshire cat at MC while Lucifer glared daggers into the pair of them. He leaned to Asmo, who, of course, was engrossed in the whole thing.

"Hey, what the hell's going on? What'd I miss?" Asmo rolled his eyes as he adjusted the strap of his bag on his shoulder. His younger brother leaned over, his gaze never leaving the trio just ahead of them.

"Satan asked MC for a pact. Lucifer wasn't keen on the idea." Mammon blinked. Satan? Wanted a pact? That was sudden. He could only guess he did it to piss Lucifer off, which, turns out, was the reasoning. Satan shouted some more, declared he was leaving this house and was moving out before storming through the doors of their home. Lucifer sighed as he grabbed his luggage and headed inside himself. Beel and Levi trailed in not long after. MC stood in the same spot, their gaze lingering at the doors to the HoL.

Mammon heaved his bags up higher on his shoulder and made his way over. They didn't move. With a sigh, he lifted his hand and flicked them in the forehead, earning him a groan and a curse. Mammon snickered.

"That's what ya get for not paying attention, human. C'mon, let's get inside, yeah? I, for one, can't wait to be home." MC hummed, grabbing their own things as they followed along behind him.

Dinner was oddly silent. Satan was absent, which left Lucifer quieter than usual and Asmo fretting over the possibility of him actually leaving. Beel commented that someone should bring him up some food before it got cold. MC pushed the food around on their plate, their mind clearly elsewhere. Mammon watched them from the corner of his eye. Not that he was overly concerned or anything; he just wanted to make sure they were gonna eat or whatever. That's what he told himself, anyway.

Moments later, MC pushed themselves away from the table and deposited their mostly full plate in front of Beel with a smile. Not hungry, they said. Mammon rolled his eyes. They were worried about Satan. The human with a heart too big, of course they'd be concerned about him. He sighed, lifting his glass to his lips. At Least Satan wanted a pact with them, right? So he'll be happy and they'll get that next pact they need. Win-win.

Dinner continued in quiet until a crash was heard from upstairs. Everyone looked up. A few moments passed when Mammon hissed in pain. He looked down at his arm and watched as a patch of blood began to seep through his shirt and run down his arm. Then MC screamed.

Lucifer rushed up the stairs. Mammon heard Asmo, Levi, and Beel talk amongst themselves, worried for MC, confused about what was going on. All Mammon could do was sit and stare at the trails of blood now running down his arm with wide eyes. Nothing had hit him. He'd been perfectly fine until…

Shit.

Mammon stood up and raced out of the room and up the stairs. He pressed down on the sudden wound on his arm with his hand as he made his way towards Satan's bedroom. He heard Lucifer's voice yelling alongside Satan's. Moments later, the trio stepped out, Lucifer looking oddly pleased, Satan looking exasperated, and MC looking dazed. Lucifer walked past Mammon with an uncannily happy smirk on his face. Satan sighed a sigh that sounded more like Lucifer than Mammon would ever mention to his face.

"Mammon, take MC and get them healed up. I need to talk with Satan," Satan said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

What the fuck is happening today? Satan (?) walked past him, following after Lucifer. Mammon blinked.

"They swapped bodies," MC said, holding their arm in a very similar fashion to himself. "Some magic book or something."

"Ah." That's all he could say. Any other day and Mammon would have been on the floor laughing then scheming what he could get away with not long after. Not today, though. Today, a realization hit him that scared him more than Lucifer's punishments ever have, ever could. The thought had crossed his mind before, fleeting thoughts that he shooed out of his head before they could dare take root. But, it seems as though today the universe had different plans in mind. Instead, it took those ideas and forced a fully grown realization into his brain, then hit him with the intensity of a truck.

"C'mon, let's get you patched up, human," he said, pushing that thought to the far recesses of his mind. They were hurt. They needed him now. There wasn't time to dwell on it, on the possibility that they might just be his soulmate.

In hindsight, faking a horror (and somehow dating game?) where everyone but MC and Lucifer disappeared was a terrible way to get them to bond, yet here they were. Mammon and his brothers were all in his room talking as they hid from the pair. The white-haired demon leaned against the wall, his eyes staring at his watch. Sure, he wanted MC and Lucifer to get along. He might even be okay if, after all this, they made a pact. Not that he would ever say that aloud, but he did honestly want Lucifer to see just how great MC was.

"MC?" Mammon snapped his head up at Satan's words, his heart sinking as they walked through the door with a dazed look on their face. "What the hell are ya doing here?" Mammon scrambled, standing up straight as he pointed an accusatory finger at his younger blonde brother. "I thought ya said no one saw you come in here!" Satan grumbled, finger curled against his chin as he thought aloud.

"Well, I was certain no one had, but it seems that wasn't the case." He met MC's eyes with a curious smile. "It seems you're stealthier than I anticipated."

Asmo whined, resting his face in his hands. "So much for our plan. It's ruined now."

"Maybe not," Satan said, moving to MC's side. "Listen, this plan could still work. We were giving you and Lucifer time to yourselves. As long as you act as if you're still clueless about our location, it still works. Just get back out there before he begins to suspect anything!" Satan not so gently pushed MC towards the door.

"W-wait, I-" The door closed behind them before they could usher another word out. Levi sighed from the corner.

"Well, that's one way to do it."

Satan rolled his eyes. "It worked, did it not?"

Mammon let out a light chuckle. He supposed it did. Sure, now they know about it, but hey, that might just work in their favor, right? They can say they checked his room if Lucifer asks, so now they've less of a chance of getting caught! As long as they can keep up the act in front of him. Lucifer was always good at catching on to that sort of thing. A result of him and his brothers' constant games, he figured.

Mammon watched his brothers, taking back his spot against the wall as he played with the rings on his finger. He wasn't sure why, but he felt uneasy. The air felt heavy, like it was moments away from crushing them all. He hadn't felt like this earlier. Was it because MC saw them and figured it all out? Mammon didn't think so. He would have felt it the moment they opened his door, right? Then why did he feel this way?

Whatever it was, he hated it. Hated the way his stomach churned, the way no matter how he fidgeted, he never felt comfortable. With a sigh, he pushed himself up, opting to sit next to Beel on the couch. His younger brother tilted the comically large bag of chips to him. With a smile, Mammon reached in and grabbed a handful, hoping the feeling in his gut would fade.

It didn't.

Mammon watched the clock tick by painfully slow. His body itched, practically screaming at him to move, to do something, until he caved. Mammon lept to his feet with a growl.

"I can't take it any longer. I'm going down there!" His brothers crowded around him, telling him to just wait, that he'd just mess this whole operation up, but he could see the antsiness on their faces shine through. He shoved his hands in his pockets and sauntered out of the room, making sure to keep his footsteps light. Glancing behind him, he could see a fluff of blonde hair followed by orange, purple, and strawberry blonde further behind. Mammon chuckled to himself as the line of demons made their way down the hall to the library where they could just barely make out two familiar voices.

As they were nearing the library, Mammon felt his neck tighten like an invisible force was clamping down on it. He couldn't breathe. Mammon fell to his knees as his hands clawed his neck, feeling nothing but his own skin. His brothers crowded around him, fear in their eyes at the fallen second-born. His vision began to waver, sounds muffled themselves as his body struggled to get any oxygen. He could make out Satan saying something about no magical cause and Levi saying Lucifer sounded angry.

MC.

Their name rang through his head, overriding his own fear. He didn't know why, but somehow, somewhere deep inside him, he knew they were in trouble. Mammon reached out his hand, grabbing someone's - he thinks it was Beel - wrist and coughed out their name. His vision was near black at this point as he watched the figure move away towards the library, followed by another. There was shouting, a crash, and suddenly the force around his throat released. Mammon coughed as he sucked in air like it was gold. His eyes watered, the blood rushing to his head. He bent over, palms flat against the ground as he recovered. His body felt like it was on fire as the oxygen rushed back through him. His body ached, his lungs burned. To top it all off, it felt like he'd just been run over by a truck. Asmo was knelt next to him, his voice slowly reaching his mind.

"What?" Mammon croaked out, his voice raw. Asmo's hand ran along his back, worry swirling in his eyes.

"Lucifer attacked MC."

In a flash, Mammon was on his feet and sprinting to the library as quick as his legs would carry him. Asmo followed behind him as the pair burst through the doors. Mammon felt as if his breath was stolen once more. MC sat on the floor, huddled against the bookshelf, the books scattered all across the floor. Levi and Beel stood in front of them, their arms out and in their demon forms. Satan was kneeling beside MC, his tail flicking across the floor as he tended to their wounds. Lucifer stood across from his brothers, his wings twitching in anger. The dark aura surrounding him was all but visible as he glared at MC through Levi and Beel.

Mammon rushed to MC's side, Satan moving to the side to allow him room. Tears unshed rested in their eyes. Bruises around their neck were beginning to bloom across their skin in the shape of hands, hands he knew well. His own hand snaked up to his neck, fingers grazing the skin underneath. Mammon swallowed, not wanting to give any attention to the thoughts running through his mind. Not now. He couldn't. Not when they're hurting, not when his older brother was moments away from tearing them apart if he could. How could one night go so wrong? What could have happened to lead to this?

"Well, hello there, brothers… I can't tell you how much I missed you."

Mammon froze. That was Belphie's voice. Slowly, he turned his head. There he stood, his youngest brother, a shit-eating grin resting on his face. Lucifer paled, the rage quickly replaced by confusion and fear.

Oh.

Mammon understood. That's how one night could go so wrong.

He hated this.

Mammon and his brothers were currently huddled around the few garden tables, waiting for Barbatos or Diavolo to tell them that MC was back from the past and that everything was fine. Everything had to be okay, right? They promised him it would be, that they'd come back to him. They wouldn't break their promise to their first man, would they?

The white-haired demon sat, leg bouncing at a pace that would make a rabbit ashamed. He glared at his brothers, all of whom seemed to be perfectly fine. Levi was gaming on his phone, as usual. Beel was snacking on the tray of treats Barbatos brought out. Asmo and Satan were conversing as if it was just any other day. The only one who seemed to be worried was Lucifer, and if anyone other than Mammon were to look at him, they'd think he was perfectly fine. Mammon knew better.

Lucifer always loved to put on an air of indifference. It made it easier for those around him, he told Mammon once after a few too many glasses of Demonus. After eons of living with him and learning to read his mood (partly so Mammon knew when to stop pushing his buttons), he'd gotten good at seeing the genuine emotions that lay beneath the surface. Lucifer was sitting, calmly enjoying a cup of tea, but his fingers worked the fabric of his coat roughly, his nails catching on the fibers. His eyes were lowered, finding the grass particularly pleasant to avoid eye contact. Mammon knew he was stressed, that he was worried. And how could he not?

Mammon nudged his chair closer to his older brother, his hands balled up, pushing against his legs as he stared at him. Lucifer stared straight ahead.

"Do you need something, Mammon?" He asked, his voice as neutral as ever. Mammon lifted his hand and rested it against his brother's shoulder, tilting his gaze down.

"They're gonna be fine," he said, his usually loud voice only just above a whisper. Mammon flashed Lucifer a smile, hoping to lift his brother's spirits as well as convince himself what he said was true. Lucifer let out an airy laugh as he turned his head to his younger brother.

"I'm sure they will be. They're too stubborn for their own good to let anything happen to them after all." He lifted the cup of tea and paused, his lips tightening. "Lord Diavolo wouldn't allow harm to befall them, not at the risk of the exchange program." Something told Mammon that Lucifer wasn't entirely convinced that was true.

It felt like hours had passed. Waiting was tedious to start with, but waiting for MC to return was downright torture. Mammon's elbows rested on his knees, hands woven through his hair. He just wanted to know how they were doing. Were they okay? Did they make it to the right part of time? Were they scared? He started to wonder if this was a delayed second punishment for rebelling because it felt like hell.

His chest and arms started aching, not unlike the times when Beel would all but crush him in a hug when they were younger. Mammon stood up and stretched. All this sitting must be making him sore, but the ache soon turned into a groaning pain. His muscles felt like they were being ripped away from each other, his bones beginning to creak under this invisible force as well. Mammon wrapped his arms around himself, pawing at the space around the pain, only to feel nothing. He fell to his knees. It was happening again.

MC.

MC's in danger.

His brothers crowded around him as he cried out in pain. It felt like someone was yanking on his scalp. His skin felt moments away from being broken off the top of his head. Mammon could hear Lucifer's voice laced with concern in front of him. He could feel his brother's gloved hands holding his face, asking him what was going on, but all Mammon could do was scream. Then, his entire body lit up in pain. Every inch of him felt like he was being crushed. He hadn't experienced pain like this since the Fall, and in a way, this was worse. Much worse. He Fell because he fought for what he knew was right, fought for his family, fought for those he loved. Here, though, here was stuck, feeling every ounce of pain that MC was feeling at that moment and he was powerless to help.

It was a notion Mammon didn't want to entertain. He was afraid too. To acknowledge what all those moments meant, what their shared pain meant would force him to confront the feelings he'd struggled to push down. He barely could admit to himself that he cared for the human placed in his care, let alone accept the undeniable fact that they were—

No. Mammon refused. They weren't soulmates. It couldn't be because if it was, then that meant that MC was suffering this and no one could help.

His voice was raw from screaming. He could feel the hands of his brothers, their voices calling out to him, searching for answers amongst themselves. He could hear Asmo mentioning the incident prior where he couldn't breathe. Mammon lifted his hand, grabbing Lucifer's tight in his grasp, his nails digging into his brother's skin. "MC…" he whispered, unable to speak much louder. The pain racked his body. Invisible hands pressed against his neck, pushing, squeezing.

A crack of bone echoed in his ears as the scene in front of him wavered, fading to black. He could hear his brothers crying his name. He could feel tears against his skin. Then, he felt nothing.

Mammon sat next to MC, their hand firmly in his grasp as everyone sat huddled in the living room. Barbatos was pouring cups of freshly brewed tea for the family as Diavolo explained the events that had just occurred. MC's limp body covered in blood flashed through his mind. Their skin, cold, their eyes glassed over, the shine he always sought out, gone.

He gave their hand a squeeze, his fingers inching down over their wrist. He could feel the gentle, steady thump of their pulse just under their skin. It was a feeling he never wanted to forget. Mammon saw them look over, giving him a gentle smile as they squeezed his hand back. They were alive. They were safe. They were here.

The timelines were merged. That's what Barbatos said. The two branches were brought together. The MC that died no longer existed, but their death was still too real for Mammon. Their heritage with Lilith was explained. Mammon would be lying if he said he wasn't excited to hear the news. He was. It meant his little sister got to live out her life, even if they weren't a part of it. She got to be happy and MC was living proof of it. He wanted to smile, to be as jovial as his brothers, but he could barely bring himself to smile.

Belphie reached out to them, curiosity and eagerness written clearly on his face. Before he realized what he was doing, Mammon slapped his brother's hand away, his arms shielding MC from him. His heart was racing; memories flooded his mind that were both his and not his. Flashes of sitting in the castle's garden, pain, his brothers crying above him, his body crushed, his voice raw. Fear. Helplessness. MC.

Mammon jumped to his feet, his hands quivering at his side. He couldn't breathe. It felt like he was underwater, each gasp only further forcing him deeper and deeper. Someone called out his name. He didn't move; he couldn't. He couldn't do anything. The memories played back again, looping, getting clearer and clearer each time.

He had died. He died as Mc died, both by his brother's own hands.

Mammon reached down and grabbed MC, pulling them out of the room that felt like it was shrinking by the minute. He drug them away, up the stairs, away from everyone, away from the memories. He drug them down the hallway and into his room, slamming the door behind them. Mammon's palms pressed flat again the door, his body shaking. MC's hand reached over, their thumb gently wiping away the tears from his eyes. When did he start crying?

"Mammon?" They whispered, voice low like he was a wild animal. The demon laughed. He didn't know why. There was nothing funny, but it was the only thing he could do. Anything else and he'd feel like he'd fall apart right here.

MC slid between him and the door, their hands cradling his face. Mammon stared down at them, taking each and every detail of them in, saving it, memorizing it. He never wanted to forget a single piece about them. Not in a million years. MC's eyes searched him, probably wondering what the hell was going on. He couldn't blame them. If the roles were reversed, he would be too. He'd pout and grumble about stealing The Great Mammon away from everyone, although he'd secretly be happy MC wanted him all to themselves.

"Mammon, what's wrong?" Their voice sounded like heaven, and he would know. They'd barely spoken at all tonight after everything happened, not that he blamed them. He barely said anything himself, but now he never wanted to hear their voice stop. He wanted them to keep talking, to drown out the painful memories that kept flashing themselves in his mind.

His shaky hands moved from the door to their shoulders, pulling the human, the fragile, breakable human, into his arms and held them as if they were made of glass. Mammon rested his head lightly on their shoulder, afraid any more pressure would leave them crumbled in his hands. He felt them wrap their arms around him, pulling him closer, tighter, unafraid, and he cried. Mammon cried, his tears staining their clothes, not caring of how it looked, how he looked. They were here. He was here. They both were alive.

MC held him, their hand rubbing gentle circles on his back, another running their fingers through his hair. They whispered calm and loving things into his ear, never letting the silence of his room take over. They were so strong, this human. They'd faced a terrible death alone, in a house full of demons, and yet they were comforting him. Then a thought crossed his mind.

Did they remember what happened?

Mammon's tears slowly faded, leaving only occasional sniffles in its place as he let out a shaky breath. He lifted his head, his eyes staring down, not meeting their gaze. MC's hands retracted but still kept him close as they rested on his forearms, their thumbs continuing the same soothing pattern their hands had done prior. They didn't speak. The pair stood in the quiet, both gathering themselves until Mammon spoke.

"You died," he said, his voice but a whisper. He wasn't even sure if MC heard him until he saw them nod slowly, with a grim smile.

"I did." Mammon's hands lifted up, capturing MC's, gripping them tight.

"Do you remember it?"

MC stared just past him as if they were watching something unseen. Their eyes glazed over. They swallowed. Mammon felt them squeeze his hands tight.

"I do."

The words felt heavy in the air. Of course, they did. He remembered his own after all; why would they be any different? He had hoped they didn't, that they'd be spared that terrible memory. He wished Barbatos had some way of pushing those memories out of their mind, but it seems that wasn't the case.

Mammon pulled them forward, resting his forehead against their own. His hands stroked MC's own, smiling at how warm they felt. He loved them. How could he not? The universe already decided he would the moment they were both born. He never knew if his father chose this intentionally or if each pair were random, but Mammon supposed it didn't really matter now. MC was here. And as much as he tried to deny it, to ignore it, they were his soulmate. They were cursed to be forever linked to him in body and soul.

"MC," he said, brows furrowed. He had to tell them. They deserved to know, but he was scared. How would they feel, knowing their soulmate was a damn demon of all things? Would they feel angry? Scared? He could handle those. He'd handled them before with others, but what he feared more was that they'd feel guilty. That MC would hate themselves for causing him the same pain they'd gone through. He smiled ruefully. They would feel that way, though, wouldn't they? That's just who they were, too kind and caring for their own good, and he loved them for it.

He paused for a moment, contemplating the option of never telling them. MC could go on living, be with whoever, enjoy a normal life. They would never have to know it was him, after all. But he was greedy. He wanted them to know, to want to have him just as he wanted to have them. And who was he to not give in to his greed?

"MC, I gotta tell ya something important, alright?" MC nodded, their eyes looking up at him eagerly and confused as well. If Mammon didn't know any better, he'd think his stomach had been infiltrated by bats with how jittery he felt. What was the human expression? Butterflies in their gut?

He took a deep breath, steadying himself. "I think we're soulmates." MC blinked, their brows pushing together in confusion. Mammon could see the gears turning in their head, replaying scenes in their mind's eye.

"But," they started, blinking more. "How? What— I died, that means that you'd have to—"

"Die?"

MC nodded. Mammon hummed, biting the inside of his cheek. He looked off to the side with a pained smile.

"The other timeline, the one Barbatos merged or erased or whatever the hell he did, the you that went back was the one that died, right?" MC nodded. "Yeah, well, that you died and so did that me." He heard them gasp moments before being pulled into a tight hug, their arms wrapped around his waist.

"Mammon, I—" Mammon shook his head, nesting his face into the crook of their neck.

"It's fine, I just— I thought you ought to know." Mammon moved his arms around MC's own waist, pinning the two of them together. He could feel their heartbeat against his chest. The steady thump-thump made him smile. "Sorry you got stuck with me." He felt tears on his shoulder. MC sniffled against his shirt.

"Shut up, don't say that," MC gently banged a fist against his chest, making Mammon chuckle. "You— But then with Belphegor…." MC pushed away, their eyes wide as they stared up at him. He could see the tears pooling at the edges, moments from spilling over again. They swallowed. "You would have felt it all, felt—" Mammon simply nodded. "Oh God… Mammon, I don't—"

Mammon laughed. "I doubt my father cares," he said with a smirk. MC looked up at him, fighting the smile on their lips. They shook their head, processing what this all meant. Mammon watched them, watched the expressions flicker across their face and yet he felt oddly calm. It was that same sort of calm one gets staring at a storm rolling in from the safety of their own house. The possible danger seemed far away, out of reach, but deep down, you knew it still posed a threat.

Mammon watched them lick their lips. "My soulmate, huh?" Mammon nodded. They smiled. "Guess that means you're stuck with me." He laughed.

"Guess so." He stared into their eyes, looking for any hint of remorse or disdain, but they were clear. Only happiness rested there. "You alright with that?" MC smiled.

"Definitely." Mammon reached a hand up, cupping their cheek. He tilted their face up as he leaned down. He noticed their eyes flutter close, their breath hitch as they leaned forward, angling their head into his palm. Mammon couldn't help but smile as he pressed his lips to theirs.

Soft. They felt so soft against him. They moved in tandem, dancing in perfect unison with one another as if they'd kissed a thousand times before. For the first time in a long time, Mammon felt genuinely complete. It was as if he could want for nothing but this moment to never end. No gold tasted so sweet as the taste of their lips; no jewels shone so brightly as their eyes as they parted. If he wasn't addicted to their mere presence before, he was now, and there was no way he could ever recover. Not that he wanted to, anyways. He wouldn't trade this feeling for anything in the world. It was priceless. A notion Mammon believed impossible until now. Everything could be bought, for the right amount, but not this. Never this.

MC rested their forehead against his with a contented sigh. "How long have you known?" They asked, their hands playing with the fabric of his shirt. Mammon bit his lip as he blushed.

"You got a paper cut in class that first week you were here. That's when I started to wonder. I didn't really know until Satan got your arm good that one time." MC laughed, the smile on their face genuine. Their laugh only grew as they processed his words. Mammon couldn't help but find himself smiling too.

"You're kidding me? A paper cut?"

Mammon nodded.

"Yeah, it all started with a paper cut."

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jamiegeode · 2 months ago

Note

Dear lord. Going through my drafts after forever I’m so sorry man-

Omg!!! Corvids are awesome dude!!! And YOOO the journal!!!! All the details are so fun!! AND OMG KITTY AND I LOVE YOUR COMPUTER BACKDROP.

Sorry it’s taken me so long to respond lol. I ended up talking a lot. Like ‘I’m writing a letter to an old friend who I haven’t written to in ages’ a lot. So. To ze readmore lol

Over the summer I got a job working with little kids in a sorta-daycare!! It was super fun, except the days when we were understaffed and got like. 13 kids ranging from ‘just old enough for their parents to put them in daycare’ and ‘rambunctious 5-year-old who might run into a wall face-first to try to knock their teeth out.’ Those days were still fun they were just stressful as heck too.

Since then I’ve started college! I’m on week 5 I think? When people say your life gets busy in college they MEAN IT. I love all my classes, except one of my two gen eds, and that one it’s more like. I find it interesting but I’m not in love with it. It’s like old philosophy, Aristotle and Sophleces and shit, and while they can be very deep and insightful and that get my gears turning, they are from an era where women were essentially property? And you can kinda tell at times. But one of the plays we read in class actually reflected it much more tastefully (in comparison. Still got issues.)

Geography however? It’s SO MUCH cooler than I thought. It’s not just maps and history. It’s those things, plus EVERYTHING. It’s modes of transport, it’s goods, it local vs country vs global culture, it’s literally everything to do with why people do things or view things a certain way, and it’s. Gods it’s so fucking cool and we’re only on chapter 2.

My other three classes are art-centric, two in the actual arts building and one in the digital/technological arts floor of another building. And to be honest, it’s kinda been the best time of my life?

Like to start I’m loving all my classes. Apparently I’m like already a bit ahead in some ways? People had a surprising amount of good to say and surprisingly little suggestions during our critique in drawing 101? And I’m not the best in 2D design but it’s so fun and no one seems annoyed when I ask questions about stuff!! Which is a win for certain!!

And then in digital foundations—I feel like a fish that lived on land and only just found out what water is. I mean fuck adobe’s AI scraping and I wish it weren’t one of the standard foundational digital tools, but holy shit. Vectors. I can do so much more. Like I’m still working on pixel canvases when I draw by hand and I’m still needing to figure out which vector based canvases are available and which I want to use, so hand drawn stuff’s still pixel-y. But when you’re working with vectors nothing gets pixelated and it is SO beautiful

And then there are so many people who are so ok with me being loud and stimmy and excited about stuff? And that’s near all the time, instead of just in theatre after school? I mean. Obviously I still gotta quiet down during lectures and shit, but it’s so much more engaging, and I’m allowed to keep my hands busy!!

and oh my god studio time in art classes is so much more amazing when it’s a solid 2-3 hours and you’re allowed to get up and move around to stretch or find a different workspace or yap with friends and ask for advice as you’re working, or when you get to just like. Pull out your phone

No one gets mad if you have out your phone. That seems so tiny but I don’t feel like I’m breaking a law when I set up my music.

And I started really writing again! And not just abstract or conversational stuff! Actual story and plot and character stuff!

Admittedly that started just yesterday when some friends invited me to writing club with them, but it’s still just. I went from barely actually writing, ever, to sitting down for half an hour and getting down 341 words. It’s felt so good. I’m actually thinking of starting to publish one of my original stories on AO3, and then moving into doing it in comic form afterwards! Let myself have some spontaneity and haphazardness in public instead of trying to perfect everything before letting it see light.

Overall everything feels fantastic. My mom’s not looming and watching everything. I can just. Eat a sandwich and she doesn’t get on my ass about what’s in it. I can jump when I’m excited and she doesn’t say it’s too much.

I got compared to a jackalope. With sincerity and positivity and no negative connotation. That made me so fucking happy dude. Like. That’s one of my favorite mythology guys and now I’m constantly imagining it like overlaying my stims which. When I’m in full excitement I can seem like a dog or some similar critter doing a ‘wanna play’ jump around and yes dogs are best known for it but sometimes! Deer do it too! And I legit got compared to thumper when I was really little by virtue of stims(ppl are more chill abt it when you’re 5. But then school expectations happen).

And it’s just. Hell, I’m me again. There’s this tiktok trend that was going around with adventure time audio that I thought was dumb and sappy but by god it’s right. I’m me. The childhood and joy and life I thought I’d lost forever is right here. It was buried but it didn’t die. I thought it died man. I got it back.

And like. I’m still fighting depression and anxiety, and I still rot in bed sometimes. But not nearly as much. When those fights come up it’s ok. I’m winning now. I’m winning in a way I haven’t in so long. I’m so happy man.

And I’m not fighting my ADHD and autism anymore. I’ve been so tired for so long because I was fighting shit that wasn’t trying to hurt me. And now I can fight the actual monsters for the first time in my life.

And there are people who are 100% fine with my queerness. It’s amazing. Like I had that before in theatre. But again, theatre was just 12-20 hours a week, out of 98-130 waking hours depending on how I slept.

And now it’s just. I wake up. The only person I share my actual living space with is ok with it. All the friends in my art classes are ok with it. My entire major is fine with it. My friends from my clubs are fine with it. That’s another thing I’m not fighting anymore.

It’s so, so good, Frost. Surviving is so fucking worth it. I’ve been telling myself for years but I finally fucking believe it, in my chest and in my head.

I’m still working out how to balance the freedom of not needing my online support as much with the fact that I still have close friends who I love with my whole heart who I need to keep in touch with, and I swear on everything I’m working on it, even if it’s a readjustment to not be so deeply dependent. Im still a comparatively chronically online individual, hell I have an 8am and I’m typing this up at 1:50.

But like. I can be up at 1:50. It’s not a necessity, or something I have to worry about my parents stomping on. I’m actually choosing it, and I can choose to take a nap at midday to accommodate my night owl tendencies. I don’t need to be doing this to be online, and it’s not some rule I’m breaking. It’s a choice, and it’s amazing.

Anyways! Sorry I took so long to respond!! I’m so glad to know you and I love you and having your friendship. I don’t plan to loose it, and I’m sorry if I’ve been a tad distant of late. Thank you so much for being such an amazing friend, and being part of why I got here, why I lived long enough to get here. Love ya man.

elllo

i wanted to do that "what color am i" thing so

lilac, lemon, fern and lollipop!

also love you bestie!!!<3

hiii thank you!! I know its been An Eternity since this ask was sent sorry lol

love you too!! how are you??

#frost!#j me #letters? idk

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yandere-sins · 3 years ago

Text

One More

Genshin makes my imagination vibrate pleasantly. I just want to give Kaeya a reason to make me go “Oh?” cause he’s not even my one of my favs. But the sheer sex appeal coming from that man is dangerous.

Characters: Kaeya Alberich (Genshin Impact) x Reader Warnings: Yandere, Groping, Innuendos, Alcohol, Aphrodisiacs, Insults

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

“Hey there, Sweetheart. What’s bringing you to the tavern so late at night?”

You had barely entered Angel’s Share and sat down at the bar before hearing the ever-so chipper voice of the cavalry captain drawing closer. There was nothing strange about meeting Kaeya here after a long day of work, but you and Charles exchanged a glance, the bartender sighing deeply. “I’ve only served him two drinks so far,” he explained, and you couldn’t help but think that was already one too many.

But who were you to say no to the Kaeya?

Perhaps better than anyone, Kaeya knew about the little game you two were playing. The always so icy shoulder you gave him as he continued to pressure you with his flirts was only making him want you so much more. You couldn’t count the number of times he had stopped you in the headquarters, pinned you between him and the wall - in broad daylight nonetheless - asking how you’re doing and if you need help with anything. You. Were. Sick of it! If he wanted a child to play father for, he could ask Klee to hang out with him! You, on the other hand, were a remarkable knight, trusted enough with complicated orders that - luckily! - kept you out of the city for a prolonged time so you could avoid him.

It only was hard when you weren’t on duty. Or in the city. Or close to him.

That’s when he became frisky, rather needy too.

Kaeya brushed his face from the left side of your head to the right, taking a deep breath. If it wasn’t known that you two reached back all the way to your training days, anyone would have raised an eyebrow. But most of the other guards were able to brush off his weirdness for affectionate friendship. It was almost like only you could see behind the farce, and perhaps his estranged brother. Not like Diluc had been any help to you, though, aside from breaking Kaeya off you once or twice when he was around and noticing your discomfort.

Taking up the stool beside you, there was no prior question if the seat was taken. A rather empty keg arrived with Kaeya at the bar, and he briefly tapped the rim until Charles fished for another bottle of alcohol to fill it up with. One could say Kaeya and a drink were a good mix, but to you, they were a terrible combination. Drinking made him bold. Unrestrained even.

Even though he offered his keg to you, you merely looked away, sipping at your own glass, one you much rather preferred to the brew he drank his night away with. Grinning, he instead took a hearty sip, leaning against the counter leisurely as he watched the bards perform near the entrance, but you didn’t miss even a single glance he sent your way every few seconds.

It was very unfortunate that you liked Angel’s Share for its drinks best; otherwise, you’d have had a good reason to avoid the establishment. But at the same time, you couldn’t let Kaeya direct all of your life. It was no state that you shouldn’t do what you enjoyed just because he could be there, and yet, you considered it.

“So, how was your mission? I’ve been missing your skills at training.”

“It was fine,” you answered curtly, uninterested in the conversation he initiated. There weren’t many people you talked to when you came back to Mondstadt. Somehow… it had always been hard for you to make friends with the other knights. Part of you suspected Kaeya being a reason why no one seemed to want to hang around, forcing you to spend most of your training with him since no one was willing to spar with you. Then again, you never had any evidence to confirm your suspicion, just like with many other phenomena you experienced over the years.

More than once had there been instances where your orders had been withdrawn just when you came close to solving the problems, often with the excuses that you were still too inexperienced or needed somewhere else. It had been so hard to raise in the ranks while Kaeya seemed to make leaps forward without a worry, but at least, you managed to secure your place now--one far away from the cavalry captain.

Sighing, Kaeya turned around to face the counter again, plopping his arm around your shoulders. Uncomfortably, you rolled your joints, but he instead pulled you closer to him, the smell of alcohol drafting off his lips as he spoke. “No need to play coy. You know you can tell me the truth. Didn’t you miss being home? I’m sure cleaning up those camps must have been exhausting!”

Missed being with me? seemed to be the words he wanted to say, but he packaged them in a way he knew they’d actually affect you. Kaeya had always been clever enough to poke the places that hurt. Of course, you missed home. You’d miss it more if not for him, but you had your family here, your siblings and parents that you’d like to see more often. But there was no chance with how much Kaeya liked to interfere in it. As if he was already part of your family, inviting himself and always showing up unannounced to hang out.

��‘Twas okay,” you replied after a moment of thought.

“Well, I missed you,” he chuckled before taking another sip of his keg. “I missed you sooo much!”

That was enough for you, brushing his arm off roughly before turning on your stool to leave. You knew even finding another space to sit wouldn’t spare you from him, and if you ended up in a less crowded area, you didn’t want to imagine what he’d do. “Aw, come on,” you heard behind you as he gripped your arm, making you stop. “I get it, I get it, you’re tired. But you can’t be tired enough not to drink one more with your old pal, right?”

With his voice rising in volume, you two finally gained some attention, and you instantly felt a rush of embarrassment as you stared into quite a few pairs of perplex eyes. Kaeya might have been eccentric, but he was well-liked nonetheless. Causing a scene had never worked well for you, and since you were already deemed an outsider, you’d only catapult yourself more into the shadows if any rumors spread after you left.

Clicking your tongue, you tore yourself out of his grip before sitting back on your chair again, holding up your finger. “One more. Only one more.”

“Of course,” Kaeya grinned, getting his will once again. “Only one.”

»»————— ♡

Hot lips brushing against each other, you had no better way to describe your state of being other than burning. For someone so cool and with an icy skill, Kaeya was not even close to being cold and reserved when it came to touching you. With a smile displayed on his mouth whenever he wasn’t using it to tease you, you could barely remember how you two ended up making out in one of the backstreets of Mondstadt. His hands were seemingly everywhere, and at the same time, lingered at the spots that created an audible cue from you when he squeezed them.

“You’re so sensitive,” he noted as you hung in his arms, hands currently squeezing your ass from your thighs upwards. “That’s good, I like that.”

“Fucker,” you merely cursed back. “You only said one more drink! I feel like shit! What the hell was that?”

“On the contrary, you feel amazing,” he ignored your questions, pushing his leg between yours as he pressed you closer to the cold stone wall behind you. A welcome sensation, giving you back some of your senses as the chill helped to calm your heated body. “I fucking hate you, Kaeya,” you confessed drunkenly, but the time was as good as any to say it.

“Ouch,” he brushed it off with a chuckle. “Are you sure? Your body grinding against mine is giving me very different vibes, Darling.”

Next thing, he was back in your mouth, his tongue roaming and keeping yours busy as you slung your arms around him. “You’re so stupid and mean, always testing everyone. You’re probably the reason everyone is avoiding me too, and you don’t let off no matter how much I tell you to leave me alone!”

“Mhm,” he hummed as his lips wandered down your neck, making you stretch it out for him so he could reach better. “And now... I don’t even know! You drugged me?!”

A soft laugh escaped him before you felt a suck at your collarbone, followed by the wet sensation of a tongue tasting your skin. “Bingo, Baby. Lisa really wanted to know what would happen if someone drank this potion and you were all too eager to get it down your throat-”

“To get away from you!” you interrupted him.

“Whatever.”

Finally, Kaeya came up on eye level again, the two of you staring at each other for a moment in silence.

“Whatever?” you questioned, confused by his reaction.

“Yeah, whatever. I think kissing you made me swallow at least, hm... half of it too. Even if we wanted to, we wouldn’t be able to stop now, don’t you think?”

One of the most disgusting grins you had ever seen on the face of a person played around his lips as he pressed up to you, uniting you two in another kiss. Of course, you could stop it! You could, and you would right now. After all, you had allowed it to go on for far too long now! Pressing your hands into his shoulders, Kaeya let out a soft sigh against your lips, his uncovered eye closed as he enjoyed the affection. “One more,” he mumbled as he kissed you again and again, feverishly and impatiently. “I’ve been waiting forever to do this.”

With the excitement of a teenage boy, his hands roamed your body, pulling out the shirt from your trousers to lodge themselves beneath it. Skillful fingertips drew patterns over your skin, up your spine, and down your sides until you were gasping and shivering in his grasp. “Good,” he sighed against your lips, unbothered by you still trying to push him away, only ever flinching as he groped you. “Don’t you already know it? How much you drive me crazy? It’s only fair I drive you crazy too.”

“What the fuck are you even talking about--” you tried to contradict him. But Kaeya was quick to muffle your voice with another deep kiss. Intentionally or not, he met one of your sensitive spots as he explored you, causing a hitched moan to escape you, followed by a satisfied grunt from him. “I’ve been waiting for so long, I can’t have you take it from me now,” he breathed out huskily.

“I’ll scream!” you threatened him. “Let me go now, Kaeya!”

“Ah-ah,” he rebuked you, one of his hands being freed of groping-duty to cover your mouth. “No one’s going to take you away from me now either. Come one, be good, okay?”

Waiting for the right moment, Kaeya couldn’t endure your angry stare for very long before falling into soft laughter. “All right, all right,” he chuckled before leaning forward brushing his lips against his hand. “One more kiss, okay? I will leave you alone after that.”

Furrowing your brows even more, he interpreted you shaking your head as a ‘no’, letting out a long, “Aww…”

“Only one more, pretty please?”

You had to give it to him: persistency was something he didn’t lack. It felt like shooting into your own foot, but part of you just wanted it to be over. You two had kissed so much up till now; how much worse would one more be? And if he let you go afterwards, you could definitely endure it. Lifting up your hand to yank his from your mouth, Kaeya didn’t expect you to take the initiative, looking at you perplexed as you leaned forward to kiss him. No one ever taught you how to kiss, and without his directions, you weren’t actually sure on how any of it worked, but he didn’t seem to mind, humming a pleased tune before returning your awkward smooches.

When was a kiss one kiss? When the lips parted? After the first initial touch? Kaeya’s definition was two minutes of continuous connection between you two, only briefly drawing back for air but never without upholding the contact by biting and pulling on your lip or having your tongue following his out of your mouth into the cold night. He gripped your head tightly in his palms, not allowing you to get away. Only when he let go did you fall back hard against the wall as you two finally broke apart, and you hadn’t noticed how much he had held you up.

The rich flavor of alcohol on your tongue and his scent in your nose didn’t help with getting a clear mind, but nothing about you made sense anymore. Now that he had let you fall back and away from him, you felt even hotter than before, your body clearly bothered by the lack of stimulation. What part of ‘I wanted none of this’ did you not understand yourself? At least by the throbbing in your abdomen, you could tell that whatever kind of potion he had given to you definitely wasn’t a fun experience, but all the more potent.

“Hurts, huh?” he laughed across from you. “Oh, fuck off,” you mustered to say, but the pain was obvious by your expression. You were barely able to keep yourself up properly.

“I’d offer my help, but you made it clear you didn’t want it.” The situation must have been really funny to him, only agitating you more. If it at least hadn’t been Kaeya, you might have accepted help, but you knew you’d have to get yourself home now all by yourself in a state of constant heat with no way to resolve it.

“You caused all of this! You should at least take responsibility without taking advantage of the situation!”

Pushing yourself away from the wall, you decided it was time to step away. There was no use in talking with Kaeya, but the moment your support dwindled, you noticed how wobbly your legs felt, barely capable of holding you up. What had you trained all these years for if a mere potion could make you so incredibly weak? Before you could get back to the wall, one knee gave away, making you sink to the ground where you could barely catch yourself with your hands.

“It’s really working you hard, isn’t it?” you heard him speak down from above. Squatting to your level, you felt his hand slide through your hair before gripping and lifting your head to face him. “Tell you what: If you ask nicely, I’ll help you. Can’t promise you’ll wake up in your bed tomorrow morning, but a bed nonetheless, wouldn’t that be nice?”

“Fuck you,” you hissed back, and he shook his head, disappointed.

“Try again.”

What choices did you have? Risk the little bit of reputation you still had by being found in the morning, disheveled and drunk from the night before? The knights absolutely hated anything that would ruin their pristine prestige, so much even you knew. You had worked so hard to get where you were, could you really risk all of it? “... please,” escaped you before you could think it through further.

“What was that?” he teased you, and you wondered why he could still be so clear even after drinking much more than you did and having had a taste of the potion from your lips. “Please help me get home.”

This time, he laughed out loud, obviously amused by how pitiful you had to behave to please him. “One more time. Say it one more time, and say it nice.”

Frustrated, you wished you could have punched him in the face, but you only bit your lip, taking a deep breath before complying. “Please, Kaeya. I need your help to get home. Please help me home!”

Embarrassment was all you could think about as he conditioned you to do as he wanted, but finally, after you did what Kaeya demanded, he petted your head, leaning forward to kiss your forehead before reaching under your arms to pull you up. “Look at you, all cute and begging me for help.”

Quickly being lifted from the ground, you found your new halt by gripping into his shoulders tightly and wrapping your legs around his waist as he held you in front of him. “You’re so adorable!” he chuckled as you clung to him much more in fear of him letting you fall than because you wanted it. He seemed to have similar thoughts, giving you a bit of a scare as he let go of you, having you hang from him by only your own strength, which you didn’t trust anymore. But just as quickly, your horrified expression made him laugh, and he gave your rear a teasing slap. Lucky for you, Kaeya didn’t make you fear any longer, embracing you back and allowing you to sink against him more as he started to make his way through the streets of Mondstadt. From an onlooker’s point of view, it might have seemed like you jumped him out of joy, but really, you clung on as if your life depended on it while Kaeya seemingly enjoyed the hug.

“Just get me home, you Asshole,” you grumbled, but your insults didn’t do any damage to his good mood. “Sure, I’ll get you home,” he replied chipper, but you already had bad thoughts as you heard that.

“At least, the place I call ‘home’,” he confirmed your suspicion, and inwardly, you already admitted defeat even as you punched your fist into his shoulder.

“You know how it is,” he brushed it off lightly, patting your backside while he climbed the stairs towards the headquarters with seemingly no effort.

“I can never refuse you or leave you be. I adore you way too much.”

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vixensbrainrotts · 11 months ago

Text

Aren’t you jealous? — Takashi Mitsuya

Content: short fluff

Tropes: established relationships, miscommunication

Warnings: not proof read

Summary: You and Mitsuya who have an undying trust in one another. So much so that when Mistuya is being too nice for his own good and then struggles under the reprocution, you just sit back, grin, and watch.

Vixen's two cents: hey! This has been collecting dust in the back of my drafts so I've decided to give it some love and let it see the light of day. I love mitsuya till the day I die and it's only a matter of time till I write something for Hakkai too (cutie). Anyway, remember that my requests are open if you have au idea you'd like to see! Now enjoy!

You take joy in watching Mitsuya grow uncomfortable around the overly-friendly girl who’s hanging off him like a tick. You had told him that she was no good before but he didn’t seem to care all that much, assuring you that he could handle it. Look who’s laughing now.

And when Hakkai comes up to you, face tinged pink with confusion (perhaps frustration?), and asks you why you’re not doing anything. You just smile and say “He can handle it, and if not I’ll know when to step in.”

Kai's eyes almost pop out of their sockets, his jaw basically hitting the floor. "What do you meannnn?" he whined in disbelief. "I mean that he did that to himself, I told him not to." You looked far too relaxed for Hakkai's liking and leaned back against one of the bar chairs on the kitchen island, one hand supporting your chin, the other grasping your drink.

"Youre just gonna let that happen?" Hakkai prompts again, completely baffled. "Yeah, look, he's coming crawling to me already." You smirk teasingly and nod your head in their direction. Mitsuya, clearly displeased, was weaving his way out of the girl's grasp, making a bee-line to where you and Hakkai were, but ever incessant on wooing him, the girl followed right after him.

"Hey there." you started once he entered your circle. Mitsuya and you made brief eye contact, his gaze screaming a plea before he looked to Hakkai, to whom he gave a weak greeting. “Hi.” He breathed, voice exhausted and annoyed as he rested both arms on the counter he was lying on.

"You seem... glowing." Hakkai tries to comment awkwardly, seeing the girl weasel her way to where the three of you are standing. Mitsuya only offers a disgruntled groan in return.

"Takashiiiiii! Are these your freindssss? you wanna introduce me already??? Hahahahahahah that's so sweet!!" The girl squealed and clung herself to his arm, resting her head on his shoulder. Your ears rung at her obnoxious laughter, the noise foreign and fake. The air grew uncomfortable when Mitsuya didnt respond,so she took the liberty of introducing herself, drawing out the short speech with elaborate (unnesseary) details, reaching over the counter to shake your hand.

You only looked at her, unimpressed, and look at her a bit pitifully. "This is the catch of the night Mr. Mitsuya?" you smiled down at the heap of a man, and he groaned in response. "Yes Mrs. Mitsuya, it seems that something got caught up in my net." It was a running gag between you two- and your friends to some sort: Mr and Mrs despite not being wed. It was clear that it was forever between you two though, so everyone just kinda went with it.

Little Miss disturbance didn't know of that though, and upon looking down at your hands and finding one (the wrong) ring finger embezzled with a promise ring, her mouth widened. Jaw on the floor and hands clammy, she slowly stepped away from Takashi and retreated. Fast. "It was, ah, uhh, pleasure meeting you mr and mrs mitsuya, let me know if you ever need a babysitter.”

Hakkai laughed out loud and clutched his stomach “You’re the best y/n! Man you totally owned her just now! Fuckin' wear the pants!" Te laughed and clapped a hand on Takashi’s shoulder, who had still not risen from his slumped pose. "You better not hire her though, I'll do it for free, swear I wanna watch your little beasts <3" Hakkai's voice had a serious edge now and he looked at you. "Make sure to tell me if he ever dares to treat you wrong. I'll rock his shit!"

Sighing you nod at Hakkai with a smile "Thanks Kai. Will do." you rounded the kitchen island and came to stand to next Takashi, resting your hand on his arm. "Good evening Mr. Mitsuya.” he pulled his head from the counter. "Good evening Mrs. Mitsuya." his drowsy eyes met yours - smiling as he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. You smiled back, and before long your lips met his in a soft exchange of endearment.

Out of the corner of your eye you could see Hakkai turn red and turn away with a shy smile on his face too.

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo rev x reader #x reader #tokyo rev x you #tokrev #tr content #tokyo manji revengers #tr headcanons #mitsuya x y/n #mitsuya fluff #tokyo revengers mitsuya #mitsuya x reader #mitsuya takashi

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fredshufflepuff · 4 years ago

Note

hello artist Fred x slytherin reader where he wants to draw her naked in her dorm and praising her

muse || f.w ✧˖*°࿐

summary: fred draws you naked.

warnings: slytherinfem!reader, artist!fred, praising i think?? (really just fred being a simp), nudity, lots of fluff, umh implied sex?

word count: 955

you sat in the middle of your bed reading away, trying to catch up on the notes you missed in charms earlier today before the big exam.

you were alone in your dorm considering how everyone was at dinner, so when someone had knocked on your door—your thoughts went immediately to pansy or daphne.

but why would they be knocking? this is their dorm too.

“come in” you called, placing your book face down on the bed and scooting forward. the door opened and a handsome red head stuck his face in, a grin playing on his lips.

“freddie, lovely seeing you here” you smiled, your boyfriend making his way into the room before closing the door behind him.

“just wanted to see my beautiful girlfriend” he hummed, a quill and book of parchment in his hands.

he flopped down onto the bed next to you, pecking your lips as you giggled against him.

“is that all?”

“what’s that suppose to mean?” he asked, eyebrows furrowing as you shrugged your shoulders.

“just odd that you brought your sketchbook with you.”

“i always bring it with me, just in case i want to draw something that catches my eye” fred grins, flipping the parchment open to a clean page before looking up at you, “want to be that something?”

“do i have a choice?” you dramatically sighed, fred poking your side with narrowed eyes.

“what? just sketch me like this.”

the boy propped himself up before sliding off the bed, placing down his materials so he could pull you towards him.

“i have a better idea” he said, his hands cupped under your thighs as he brought you to the edge of the bed, “how would you feel about a nude drawing?”

“n-nude?” you sputtered out, fred nodding without hesitation as he searched your eyes for any discomfort.

“like...naked.”

“i know what nude means you bafoon!” you scolded, your body flopping backwards as your arms flew out dramatically.

“you can’t go one day without being horny can you?”

“i’m not horny!” he yelled, pinching your thigh as you squealed from the action, “it’s called art. they do it all the time in the muggle world!”

“since when did you know so much about the muggle world?” you asked, tilting your head to the side as you stared at him with narrowed eyes.

“is that a yes or no?”

“fine” you mumbled, sitting yourself up and slinking off the bed, “but don’t get hard. i swear to god fred i will not be helping you.”

“no promises.”

after what felt like forever to fred, you changed yourself into a robe with nothing underneath.

“what if someone walks in?” you asked, fiddling with the ties of the robe as you started to second guess yourself.

“i’ve locked the door, sweetheart.”

you only nodded in response, pulling at the ties before letting the material drop, your body fully exposed to fred.

fred’s eyes seemed to light up as he traced every curve and detail with his mind, in love with the sight in front of him.

“absolutely beautiful” he whispered, kissing the top of your head as you blushed against him.

“you’ve seen me naked before.”

“doesn’t mean i can’t appreciate you” he said, his pointer finger tracing your jaw before gripping your chin, lifting it up to kiss the tip of your nose.

“now let me get ready, my muse.”

you watched him grab his book and quill before taking a seat at your desk, turning the chair around to view you.

“do i just...stand here?”

“stand, sit, anything you’re comfortable with, love.”

you nodded at his words and took a seat at the end of the bed, crossing your legs other one another before placing your hands in your lap.

“perfect.”

you didn’t know how long you sat there for, your eyes fluttering shut every once and a while considering how late it was. but after what felt like forever, fred was finally done.

“can i see?” you asked, tilting your head up to try and get a peek in.

“of course” he said, placing his quill done so he could show you, “tell me how i did.”

once he turned the book around, you felt your heart stop for a good five seconds. you looked beautiful, so detailed and realistic—it was like you were staring into a mirror, minus the color of course.

it was breathtaking how gorgeous it was, how talented your boyfriend was.

“do you like it?” fred asked hesitantly, not liking how quiet you had gotten.

“i love it, fred” you whispered, your finger coming up to drag along the lines, absolutely speechless with how detailed it was.

fred smiled widely at your reaction, glad that you liked it.

“can i keep it?”

“it’s just a draft, not the best i can do. but if you want” he shrugged, gently ripping the paper out to hand to you.

“you’re joking” you said, baffled at his words, “this is amazing, fred.”

“thank you, love” the boy blushed, wrapping an arm around your waist as he kissed the top of your head.

you jumped from his touch, completely forgetting you were bare. his hand was cold against your warm skin, sending chills down your spine as you pulled away.

“you’re freezing, fred” you giggled, leaving his side to grab your robe—still discarded carelessly on the ground.

you went to thread your arms through the sleeves but fred stopped you, grabbing your wrist and pulling you back against him, the robe dropping from your hands.

“getting shy on me now?” he asked, his hands resting on the curve of your back as he grinned down at you.

“it’s not fair that i’m the only one naked” you pointed out, not helping but blush as he squeezed your ass gently.

“i can fix that.”

fred weasley tag list 🏷 @90smalfoy @astoria-malfcy @whipped-for-the-weasley-twins @ang9lic @malfoysbiitch @Harrypotter_Whore @aetheralist @miraclesoflove @amourtentiaa @myloveforluna @bellatrixscurls @an2402lths @marrymetheonott @skaratjung @wh0re4blaise @dreamxnotxfound @fjorelaant @pinkandblueblurbs @roonilwazlibswhore @dlmmdl @letmereadpls @dagirlintheback @onyourgoddamnleft @moonyinthelight @iamnibbsi @6r4cie @samineisntmyname @amourtentiaa @elizabethrosedarling @authorb @justasmolballofstress @persephonestoad @escapingrealitybyreading @happydazzz123 @touchdeprivedwh0re @thescarletweasleywitch @endlessymphony

#fred weasley headcanons #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x you #fred weasley fluff #fred wealsey fic #fred weasly x reader #fred and george #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley blurb #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fic #harry potter fluff

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missblissy · 3 years ago

Note

How about Human! Alastor x Detective! Reader? 👀👀

((Of course nonny!! Sorry this took forever, UmU yet another one lost in the drafts for a little to long. Anyways, I hope the wait is worth it! Enjoy!!))

You had first met him by accident. It was honestly a cherished memory up until recently. The more you thought about it, you may have seen it as an accident, but... You didn't think he intended for it to be an accident at all. About two weeks had passed since you last spoke to him in person, but that's because you stopped seeing Alastor willingly, quickly, and as if you were running from him.

But that didn't mean you stopped watching him. Hopefully... And you say hopefully he believed your lie. You told him you had to go home across the country for a month to help your dying father before he passed. When you told Alastor, he seemed to buy it. He didn't really ask about it. He also said he was sorry to hear about your father, but nothing more than that.

It was uncomfortable for you to remember anything about him. You had only been to his house once, after knowing him for about two months. The second you were in there... something wasn't right. Sure it was spotless, clean... But Alastor also didn't know that you were an undercover detective. You didn't tell anyone about your job under any circumstances. The only people that knew were your family.

There was familiar... unsettling sent to his home. Decomposition. Rotting Flesh. It was faint, but as he led you from the front room, towards the kitchen, you passed a door and the smell was slightly stronger There was no mistaking it. In your line of work? You could never forget the awful smell of the first victim you ever found... You didn't say anything, you didn't even let him know about it. You believed he had gone nose blind to faint smell coming from his basement, seeing as he lived there. The next day you told him your lie to get away.

Since then, you had been watching him from afar, doing your best to stay in the shadows. You had to gather intelligence, you had to find leads. You knew he was hiding something in his home... But you couldn't just break in. You worked within the law, you couldn't just disobey whenever you felt like it. But over the past few weeks, you had learned a lot about this man. You figured you knew just about everything one could know. You kept a detailed profile of every action you witnessed, and notes from every document you could find.

Eventually came the day when you "came back" from your "family visit." You came up with an excuse to call Alastor, you asked if you could see him, you told him your father hadn't passed, but you were worried about leaving him. But he turned you down, said he was busy. He came up with a list of excuses but seemed so cheerful and happy as if this was a very subtle, passive-aggressive... I Know. You apologized for bothering and hung up the phone. Surprisingly though, a few days later Alastor did call you back and asked if it was possible to meet somewhere public.

He wanted to meet up at a cafe, with lots of people and plenty of noise. You found him around 1:00pm on the dot, sitting in a secluded corner reading a book. You made sure to notice the title The Big Sheep. A classic American murder mystery novel, you've read it many times yourself. When you sat down he closed the book and put it away, an ever pleasant smile. He put his hands together, interlocking his fingers, and he sat forward saying, "It's good to see you again, detective (L/n)."

You gulped down a draw swallow and did your best to play off his threat, "So you've been nosing around in my business?" Was the best thing you could come up with. He laughed, cold and hard, then shrugged a little, "No," He said, "You've been digging around in mine."

There was a moment there when you opened your mouth to object, but you knew this was a game of cat and mouse at this point. Alastor was quick to go on speaking, "You've done quite a bit of homework, and you wouldn't think I'd notice?" He didn't give you time to reply, "I assure you, dear, that I've been up to nothing but good things. You may have this little... investigation you've been conducting on me, lying to me, going behind my back, and following me around the city. But you haven't a single clue, do you?"

You knew you couldn't lie to him, and your cover was blown. But how? You were so sure to stay in the shadows, to stay unseen. The only thing you could think of is someone tipped him off. You pressed our lips then and chose to speak quietly, "I'd be very careful with your words," You threatened him, "Because what would I need a clue for, Alastor, if you've been doing nothing but good?" You leaned back in your chair and slowly crossed your arms.

You watched the slow but subtle changes in his expression, his eyes only grew slightly in size while the same happened to his smile, "That's right," He said careful, but you quickly cut him off.

You shot forward in your seat and pointed a finger at him, "Why would I be investigating you, Alastor? What on earth could be my reason for doing that? You tell me, you seem to know everything," You sat back once again and waved your hand quickly, "You were smart enough to figure out I'm a detective. So why would I be investigating you, come on, whaddya got? I'm just supposed to be your friend right? Or am I not?"

Your badgering questions made him uneasy and you could see that. It was like laying down the soft subtle pressure of the law between each word. You could see Alastor begin to process that maybe this wasn't the best idea, but he knew he couldn't lose control. He sat back in his seat, "Look," he said, "You know, I know. I know that you know. I also know you that whatever you think you're looking for? It's not what you think it is."

At that moment you knew you had your chance, "Then let's go to your house. Show me your basement and prove me wrong." You crossed your arms, daring him to do exactly what you said.

But Alastor chuckled, "You know I can't do that," He smiled at you. It seems like this meeting of his hadn't gone the way he planned at all. He got up from his chair pulled something out of a brief case he had sitting on the floor next to him. He put a manila folder on the table and put on his coat, "Have fun with this one, detective. You'll quickly learn it wasn't me. But I know how did it. If you need a clue, give me a call, yeah?"

You stared at him, slightly shocked and on edge. His smile was threatening, uneasy and it made your guts twist together. Alastor walked away without a care in the world. As you watched him leave, you looked back to the folder. What on earth...? You did a quick glance around the cafe and peeked into the folder.

Just as quickly you slapped it back shut. The grainy and poor images glued themselves into your mind regardless. You put a hand over your mouth as you kept your stomach down. The images of a decapitated body with none of its limbs burned into your memory, along with the bloody carving in the skin that said "Find Me."

#hazbin hotel #hazbin #hotel #alastor x reader #alastor #ask #anon #detective!reader #human!alastor #blissy writes #reader insert #x reader #hazbin hotel alastor

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alatusxiaoo · 3 years ago

Text

that summer night

content: fluff, falling in love for a brief while only to have it left as a distant memory

character/s: albedo

note: here’s another one from the drafts :> i think this concept is really special to me. i can’t guarantee that i’ve perfectly channeled the fleeting feeling of jittery and bittersweet love that was never meant to last, but this is my own flawed rendition of it. i hope you’ll enjoy it and still bask in it’s blemished beauty the same way i did as well.

prompt is inspired by f. scott fitzgerald <33

ALBEDO

To whom it may concern.

“I am Albedo, Chief Alchemist of the Knights of Favonius.” The stranger introduced, staring at you intently with those teal eyes. “You carry the aura of the stars…interesting.”

You merely smile at him. “I assume that was intended as a compliment?”

“It is.”

“Strange, I’ve never heard that before.”

You told me to write to you whenever I felt lonely, or simply wanted someone to reminisce with about the events of that summer night.

“You don’t seem to be from around here.”

“I come from Mondstadt.”

“The city of freedom.” You sigh longingly. “Then I suppose you came to visit for the Lantern Rite?”

“Not exactly. I was expected to meet a friend of mine here. He’s a writer, you see.”

I thought that the stars were particularly beautiful that evening. I wanted to sketch them out, you see.

You gestured to the sketchbook in his hand. “So you’re his illustrator.”

He nodded, patting it with utmost care. “Yes, he says he likes my drawings. He thinks that we would work well together making novels.”

“Can I have a look?”

With pride, he hands over his possession to you. And he had a right to be proud. His drawings were detailed and wonderful, and you couldn’t help the awed look on your face as you skimmed through each and every one of his pages.

“Forgive me if this sounds strange, but I’ve noticed that you’ve been standing on that sidewalk for a long while now.” You say, looking back up at him.

“No, that’s alright. To be honest, I’ve been waiting for almost an hour. I’m not sure if he’ll even arrive at this point. I was hoping to sketch something here while I waited.”

“Well, since you’re free at the moment…” You cheekily smile, holding his sketchbook to his direction. “…why don’t you sketch me then?”

So when I ran into you, it dawned upon me that those stars were nothing compared to the beauty you held under the moonlight.

“You never told me your name.” He says, completely immersed in his sketch, as you sit across from him in an empty grassy plain.

Raising a tiny flower to your face, you stare at its details. “I’d prefer to keep this air of mysterious aura around me. It makes it all the more exciting, don’t you think?”

“Perhaps you only wanted my company in order to endanger me.” He hummed, glancing every other time at you before returning his focus back to the canvas.

“I guarantee you.” You respond, gently blowing on the flower’s tiny petals. “I wouldn’t hold such intention against you. If anything, I wondered what it would be like to be accompanied by someone like you.”

You grin at your next words. “After all, it’s not everyday I get to see someone intriguing around here.”

After a while of peace and quiet as you played around with the flowers, you eventually noticed that Albedo had paused for a little too long now, simply staring at the canvas without moving hands.

“Is it finished?”

“Yes.”

You stood up from the bed of grass, dusting your clothes off. “Can I see it?”

“No.” He responded a little too quickly, catching you off guard. Strangely, he was still focused on the drawing he created.

You were puzzled. “Uh, why not?”

Albedo shook his head, eyes never leaving the canvas. “I don’t like…the way it makes me feel.”

It was truly an anomaly - one I was unsure if it was detrimental or not because of the way it made me feel.

You chuckled awkwardly, walking nearer to him. “I’m sorry, it’s the first time anyone has ever sketched me. I’m not exactly an expert at this.”

“It’s alright, it was more of my fault.” He sighed, closing his sketchbook. “I might have exaggerated some of the details a bit too much.” He said quietly. Unbeknownst to you, his ears has reddened with his own comment, knowing it was a lie and you were simply too beautiful for him to accept.

From here on, you could imagine how the night went. I ended up wandering with you around the streets of Liyue.

If things were different, I would have waited for Xingqiu. I suppose it was due to my selfishness to indulge in you a bit longer - that I eventually forgot about him the more I got lost in you.

“So, what do you do?” You hear him ask amidst the bustling crowd.

“Ah I…suppose you could call me a traveller. Although I do hail from Liyue. I came for the Lantern Rite.” You glance at him. “You should stay for the lanterns. Maybe you could even send one up into the sky. They’re quite a beautiful sight to behold.”

He nodded. “That doesn’t sound too bad. Perhaps I could sketch the view as well.”

As someone who expertises in alchemy, I may as well have been a master at making up strange excuses just to be with you.

“You don’t smile a lot.”

Albedo raised an eyebrow, looking over to you. “People have told me that I don’t exactly have the best social skills…or maintain a lot of good relationships.”

You hum in thought. “Who do you have good relations with, then?”

“I have two assistants back in Mondstadt, along with a little girl and her mother that I consider family.”

“Not blood-related?”

He shook his head at your words. “How about you?”

You turn away from his gaze to look at the distant mountains, and smile fondly. “Well…I have someone I like to think of as an older brother. He likes to trick his blood brother into thinking he’s a toy salesman though.” You chuckle. “I have another older brother figure who works as a consultant at the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor. And uh…I have a close friend who prefers to stay in Wangshu Inn. I’ve been trying to get him to visit the Lantern Rite with me for a while now. That’s all I have.”

You glance back at him. “That is, of course, you’d allow me to consider you as a friend. Then maybe we’d both have more good relationships.” You speak, feeling a rush of warmth dust your cheeks on a particularly chilly evening.

Albedo smiles. And it hits you how beautiful he looks - you almost wanted him for yourself. “I would love that.” He says, but you are too lost in his intoxicating eyes that you are unable to respond to his affirmation of friendship.

It didn’t sit right in my tongue to simply call you a friend. It felt wrong to do so - but even worse to want you more than that.

Time flew by almost as if it was nothing. The next thing you knew, you were both lined up in front of a crowded booth to buy lanterns. It took a while to reach the counter, and even when you did, it was still unbelievably crowded around the area.

“Here are your lanterns. Enjoy the night, lovebirds!”

“Oh, we’re not-“ You trail off, your face a blushing mess. “Just friends.” You eventually say, glancing over to Albedo, who was busy examining his lantern. His hair however, failed to hide the red disarray splattered on his ears.

As you proceeded to pay for the lanterns, the crowd pushed up against you a little more, trapping you both near the counter. You finish pocketing your money and hand it over to the lady, only to feel a pair of warm arms encircle around your waist, and breathy words tingle on your neck.

“Excuse me.” You heard Albedo mutter lowly, and you could have sworn time slowed a little too much for your liking, the sound your heart banging against your chest faintly echoing.

It took a while to process what he said, and when he did you immediately took action. “A-ah, right! Sorry!” You exclaim, moving a little forward in order to let him pass. As soon as he’s out of the way, you turn to the lady with a flustered look, only to find her sending you a smug one.

“Just friends, huh?”

I could still remember it all like it was yesterday. You told me you had a tradition where you would write your heart’s deepest desire on your lantern before sending it up to the sky. “In hopes of letting the gods hear my pleas, you see. It would be nice to let someone other than me listen to it, for a change.”

So I ended up fooling myself into believing it too, and did the same. I wished for you that evening. I don’t know what exactly I wanted - all I know was that I felt warm and happy to be free from anything and everything the world held except you.

“Dance with me.” You breathed, catching his attention as he looked over at you.

You moved up to one of the cliffs above Liyue, where one could get the perfect view of the lanterns floating in the starry sky. You were both alone, and you figured there was nothing better to do than to bask in this fleeting moment with him.

“I’m not a very good dancer. You might be disappointed.” He says, hesitantly inching towards you.

You smile, holding out your arms. “I think I’m willing to take a risk.”

His fingers pause when they meet yours, the world seemingly stopping for a brief second - before he takes his hand into yours and latches his arms onto your waist. He pulled you close, to the point where you could stare into his deep irises and examine every single detail in them.

“You have stars in your eyes.”

He smiles, looking at you. “Strange, I’ve never heard that before.”

“Well they must be blind for not noticing.” You grin, as Albedo takes the first doubtful step.

Before you both knew it, you were twirling under the moonlit evening along with the lanterns, to the sound of Liyue’s bustling crowd and its wandering music. You could feel yourself laughing in delight, and could see how he reveled in the night’s beauty as well. For the first time in your life…

I finally felt free.

“You liar! You’re an amazing dancer.” You exclaim with an exhilarated smile, as he pulls you in to catch you in his arms once more, greeting you with a mirrored expression as well.

“I suppose it’s more of the fact that I have a great partner.” He responds, pulling you both into a slower dance, as the noise quietly fades into a gentler song.

You look back into those eyes - the ones you couldn’t stop getting lost in the entire night. He looks back into yours, and it sends you wondering if it was just you who felt something different since you first met him earlier.

“Something feels distinct about you.” He breathes, sending shivers down your spine. “You don’t look the same as you did a while ago.”

“Neither do you.” You whisper, trailing off once you realized you had both stopped dancing.

A warm gloved hand cups your cheek, and you can feel the whole world spinning just before his lips land onto yours.

The sensation sends you spiraling, and you shut your eyes tightly from the repercussions and these new emotions. You grab him by the collar to bring him impossibly closer to you, almost as if trying to memorize the way his lips felt against yours, and these fluttery feelings that kept racing around your heart.

It feels like forever before he pulls away and your eyes flutter open to meet his once more, with touched noses.

“Y/N.” You say, and for the first time it feels like you’ve been holding your breath for years until you’ve finally tasted the air that sets you free. “My name is Y/N.”

“I love you, Y/N.”

But not everything beautiful lasts forever.

You feel tears prick your eyes, hearing him say those words makes your heart do flip-flops before reality crashes down on you - and you realize that this won’t last forever.

You lean into his embrace, looking at the faraway lanterns that slowly floated higher and higher in the sky. “This is probably the last time I’ll see you though, huh?”

Sometimes all you have three years later is the sound of her laughter as it echoed through the wind and tugged at my heart, and how the moon looked that evening.

You feel his hand brush your hair away, tucking it behind your ear. “You make me happy. Truly.”

You look back at him and nod. “Its so strange. I’ve been wandering my entire life but I’ve never wanted to settle down as much as I do in your arms. I love you, Albedo.”

You both slowly release your hold, and instead choose to lock fingers once more. You stare at your hands, and look up at him.

“I’ll walk you back down.”

I don’t ask you to love me always like this…

You end up back in the place you first met him. The stalls are slowly being closed up, streets cleaned and lights dim as the aftermath of the Lantern Rite.

You stand there in silence, looking around at the area, and a wave of nostalgia hit you as if you two had just met and were stuck in that blissful moment.

You turn to face him and he does the same. Gently letting go of his hand, you smile with tears in your eyes.

but I ask you to remember.

“I should go.” He cups your cheek one last time, and you lean into his warmth.

“I will remember.” You whisper, pressing a kiss to the star on his neck, hoping he’ll remember too.

“If you ever come visit Mondstadt…or choose to settle down…I’ll be waiting. Always.”

You nod, and for the last time in a very long evening, you both let go.

Somewhere inside of me, there will always be the person I am tonight.

With regards, Albedo.

bonus!

“You never showed up that day.” Albedo hummed, looking over at the blue-haired culprit that left him alone that night.

Xingqiu simply grinned as he shrugged. “Please, you should be grateful I set you both up during the Lantern Rite.”

“Ah, so you were the one who started it.” He muttered, staring at the stacks of papers filled with stories and illustrations awaiting to be told.

“I told you to go out and get inspiration.” Xingqiu leaned his head on his hands, staring at his quiet friend with a mischievous look.

“So tell me, how did it feel?”

Albedo looks down at his sketchbook, sprawled open to the page he drew of you. Basking under the stars and the glow of the moon, sat in a bed of grass and flowers, lay the image of a girl he once remembered on that lovely summer night.

“Not bad. Not bad at all.”

#albedo x reader #genshin albedo #genshin impact #quote prompt #fanfic

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