#I think of the two of them she stops hiding behind the mask first and jaskier doesn’t know how to handle it lmao

[pixlatedvampire]

I’d like to personally thank Joey and Anya for their roles in the iconic "that’s my wife!" scene. Making it possible for this comic and all my headcanons about how yennefer and jaskier are silly w each other to be practically canon ^-^ 🌸

I think that yennefer can strategically be so so nice to jaskier as a form of warfare as a treat 💕☺️

[ihavemanyhusbands]

Veni, Vidi, Amavi

Also on AO3

Part I // Mini-Series Masterlist

Pairing: Lucius Verus Aurelius x Fem!Reader

WC: 2.8k words

Summary: After your first encounter, you attend the next games to watch Lucius fight, and celebrate his victory with him after.

Warnings: SMUT (18+ ONLY MINORS DNI), canon naval battle with some canon divergence, graphic depictions of violence, mentions of blood and death, reader is a courtesan (so SW), some angst, mutual pining, semi-exhibitionism (there are guards around), sort of audio voyeurism, unprotected p in v, aaaaand I think that's it but lmk if anything else!

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The roar of the crowd was near deafening as you made your way to the Emperor’s box behind Queen Lucilla, General Acacius, and Senator Gracchus. Hundreds of feet pounded in a war-like rhythm, all eager — or more like absolutely salivating — for a good spectacle. Snapping and jeering like rabid, bloodthirsty dogs.

You would never understand that insatiable, sadistic need to see another’s brutal destruction. Nobody ever thought they would watch somebody they loved be subjected to it, just strangers who weren’t really people in their eyes. But it was more common than most would like to admit, the sand forever stained not just with crimson, but also with the salt of mourning tears.

You hid your unease behind a cool, placid mask, smiling back at Senator Gracchus as he glanced at you over his shoulder. He had been curious when you had first requested to attend the games with him, but having just found out about Prince Lucius’ return and rising fame in the arena, he was amused at your antics. 

Your patron might be old, but he was no fool. Gladiators always caught the eyes of pretty, young girls like you, especially ones such as Lucius. It was really no wonder you’d want to see his glory for yourself, so he had conceded if only to indulge you.

And when he’d helped you off the litter that had carried you to the Colosseum, he had not been surprised to notice you were hiding a garland of myrtle inside your sleeve. A common enough offering to Venus, goddess of love. He made no mention of it, though, content to just watch how things played out. 

Once you’d arrived at the box, each of you knelt in front of the twin emperors and kissed their rings. Emperor Geta smiled down at you in that enigmatic, impish way of his, but his brother mostly ignored you. Not that you really minded escaping his notice, though. Better than his scorn or, worse, his interest.

“Let us begin,” Geta said, his excitement palpable as he rose to address the crowd. “We are all in for a real treat.”

You went to stand next to Queen Lucilla, sensing that her tension matched yours, even if she was perfectly poised and regal. She’d had many more years of experience hiding her true emotions, after all. You shared a small smile with her, both silently recognizing it as a moment of solidarity.

“Citizens of Rome!” Geta called out, his voice rising above the crowd. “Today, in honor of General Marcus Acacius' triumph in taking over Numidia, you will be witnessing no mere games!”

A heavy, metallic noise resounded throughout the arena as it seemed to shift, the ground underneath you shaking fiercely. But what you heard next made dread sink into your stomach like a heavy stone – rushing water. A flood’s worth of it. Soon enough, the arena was immersed and massive sharks were fed into it, menacingly circling about. At opposite sides, great iron gates groaned open to reveal two war vessels flying different colors – Roman and Barbarian.

And captaining one of them was a figure you recognized all too well, even at a great distance. You felt as if a fist were closing in around your throat, robbing you of breath. Instinctively, you stepped forward to try to get a better look, but Senator Gracchus put a hand on your back to stop you from going past the thrones. 

This seemed to anchor you back to the present, and you reminded yourself that the Lucius that you saw in the arena was not the tender one, but the fearsome warrior.

Let him live, you thought pleadingly, clutching the garland tighter. Oh, Gods, please let him live.

General Acacius waved at the crowd, muscles tensed even as he smiled, thanking them for the great honor. Emperor Caracalla, infected by the madness of bloodthirsty enthusiasm, jumped to his feet. 

“It is war!” he cried, smiling sadistically from ear to ear. “Real war!”

If it was even possible, the crowd roared louder, the cacophony railing against your eardrums. Queen Lucilla clenched her jaw, gripping the headrest of one of the thrones tightly. With a shaking hand, you accepted the wine Senator Gracchus offered you and clinked your glass against his.

The two vessels circled each other closely, quickly searching for any weaknesses and readying to strike. The Roman fleet was cocky, though, moving in without a shred of uncertainty. The Barbarian vessel narrowly missed their initial attack, but they came close enough that a few Roman fighters jumped onto their boat.

The loud clash of swords followed, a few bodies falling overboard, some still living. The waters bloomed crimson, the sharks going into a frenzy at the scent of blood. You spotted Lucius again in the chaos, driving his sword through the last invading Roman fighter and yelling out commands to his fellow gladiators. 

Both Emperors leaned over the edge of the balcony, shouting and jeering along with the rest of the Roman populace. General Acacius hovered near them, but he watched as somberly as the rest of you. The vessels came close again, but in a cunning move, Lucius made his rowers pull the oars at the last moment before impact. 

The oars of the Roman vessel tore into the side of the Barbarian one, tipping it sideways but effectively getting them both stuck together. Fighters from both sides clashed once more, desperation seeming to take place as both boats were threatening to capsize. 

Without noticing, you grasped Senator Gracchus’ arm as you waited for the outcome. He placed a hand over yours, watching just as raptly. Numbers dwindled quickly in favor of the Barbarian fighters, and you felt like you could almost sight in relief. But what happened next was so fast that you almost thought you’d imagined it.

Before anyone could actually be declared victor, an archer loosed an arrow that sailed towards the emperor’s box, landing between their thrones. Chaos ensued, the two of them crying in outrage and surprise. Immediately, General Acacius and the Praetorian guard moved to safely evacuate them. 

“Let’s go, all of you!” he commanded, voice booming.

Senator Gracchus ushered you and Queen Lucilla to follow as some guards encircled the three of you. You tried getting one last look at the arena but saw nothing more than the splintered masts of the vessels. Thankfully, Lucius was still alive, at least for the time being.

But just in case, you sent a prayer up to the Gods that nobody else noticed he was the one to shoot the arrow. 

—--------------

A small torch was your only source of illumination as you navigated through the streets of Rome to the prison where Lucius and his fellow gladiators were being kept. After relaying Lucius’ demand to see you, Queen Lucilla insisted on sending one of her guards with you. He marched at your side, one hand resting on the hilt of his sword, ready for any possible assailants leaping forth from the dark. 

You hid your face under a hooded cloak and let your companion speak to the jail’s guard as you arrived at the iron gates. The jail was cavernous, damp, and cool, and oppressive in the darkness of night. You shuddered, unable to fathom being imprisoned in such a place, even for a day. Your heart ached for those who already were, ignorant of when – or if – they might be released.

He guided you to Lucius’ cell, opened the large, heavy padlock, and let you in. Both guards waited outside of the cell to give you some privacy, and you removed your hood so Lucius could see you. He stood up from his cot, a smile slowly breaking out on his handsome face.

You let him take you into his arms and kiss you, leaving you swaying on your feet. You pulled away just enough to look him over as if reassuring yourself he was alive and all in one piece. His smile didn’t falter under your assessment – in fact, it seemed like he was proud to have proved himself to you, keeping the promise he’d made at the bathhouse. 

“Today was… I don’t even have the words to describe it,” you said, hugging him close. “When I realized it would be no ordinary fight, I feared for you… I still do.”

He placed one of your palms on his chest, right over his heart. “You have nothing to fear. I’m here.”

You glanced over your shoulder to make sure the guards weren’t watching, then lowered your voice to a whisper.

“What you did at the end, it was beyond foolish,” you said, shaking your head slightly. “I made an offering to Fortuna for all the favor she bestowed on you today. I do not think anybody else realized, or else we would not be standing here.”

“Another reason to celebrate,” he said, not bothered in the slightest. “Perhaps it was even luckier that the arrow didn’t strike true.”

“You really meant to kill one of the Emperors?” 

He shook his head. “Not them. Acacius. But in reality, I wouldn’t have minded if either of them had fallen.”

“I suppose it was a good thing the rest of us were out of range,” you murmured, looking down.

“I would never harm you,” he said gravely, grasping your chin and making you look him in the eye. “Never.”

You were nearly floored by the sincerity in his gaze, but even more so by the passion you found there, as well. It went beyond lust, even. Nobody had ever looked at you in such a way. You leaned forward and kissed him gently, letting him know that you trusted him.

“I know, Lucius,” you said.

“Then, let us not concern ourselves with anything, or anyone, else for now,” he said. “Tomorrow, the sun will rise and Rome will still be Rome. In the meantime, there is only us.”

The echo of his words at the bathhouse made you smile softly. A part of you wanted to ask more questions about his wanting to kill Acacius, but there was a slight edge of finality to his tone. Regardless, it wasn’t like you wanted to waste what little time you had together lecturing him. 

You reached up to undo your cloak, intently holding his gaze, and let it fall on his cot. “Claim your prize, then, fierce warrior. I am all yours.”

With a glance outside, he extinguished the torch in his cell and closed the distance between you. His lips melded against yours desperately, tongue slipping into your mouth. With ease, he lifted you into his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist.

He sat on the cot so you could straddle him, his hands wandering down your back and settling on your ass, giving it an appreciative squeeze. He groaned into your mouth, his chest rumbling against yours. He pulled your dress over your head as best as he could, leaving you in your thin shift. 

His hands traced the curves of your hips and waist, like a sculptor working clay into a masterpiece. He cupped your breasts, your nipples poking through the fabric, and you leaned back to give him access. He managed to pull the shift down to your midsection, revealing your chest. He trailed open-mouthed kisses on your sternum, moving lower. 

His tongue teasingly flicked one of your nipples, making you suck a breath through your teeth. He lavished them both with attention, the graze of his teeth and the pinch of his fingers igniting a fire within you. You continued trying to be as quiet as possible, even if he made it extremely difficult.

You reached between your bodies to palm his growing erection over his tunic. His hips bucked upward, seeking more of your touch. One of his hands cupped the back of your neck, leaning your forehead against his.

“How does it feel,” he rasped. “To be the only one who can disarm me so completely?”

You felt a heady, triumphant rush, nipping at his bottom lip. “I’ll keep the secret for you.”

He chuckled, surrendering to another fervent, dizzying kiss from you. You hiked up your shift as he lifted you slightly so he could free his cock from beneath his tunic. You spat on your hand and reached down to spread it on the sensitive head, moving to grip the base so you could line it up with the entrance of your cunt. You sank down slowly, your face so close to his you seemed to share breath. 

“Just like that,” he groaned, hands gripping your hips tightly. “I needed this more than you know…”

“Let me take care of you,” you whispered, letting out a breathy moan, head tipping back in ecstasy. 

You felt like you were filled to the brim by him, clouding all your other senses. He slid in and out of you easily, your arousal dripping down his length and pooling on his sac. His mouth was on your chest again, your fingers weaving through his hair. 

“Oh, Lucius…” You sighed dreamily. 

He pulsed at the sound of his name on your lips. In order to prolong the pleasure for both of you, he rolled you onto your back on the cot, keeping himself sheathed inside of you. He pushed your legs back, driving your knees past your elbows, his weight pinning you down. 

His thrusts were deep and hard, but not fast, intent on letting you feel him in his entirety. Your face contorted with pleasure, the intensity of it all nearly too much for you to bear. He groaned your name with the intensity of a supplicant. His sac tightened as he felt you squeeze around him, knowing he wouldn’t last too long no matter how much he tried. 

“Say my name again,” he said, eyes blazing. “Say who you belong to.”

“Lucius,” you panted deliriously, tears gathering on your lashes. “Ah, Lucius!”

His thrusts picked up the pace, frenzied, the sound of flesh slapping together unmistakable. You cupped his face in your hands as you felt yourself coming apart under him, trembling. A cry threatened to escape you, but he covered your mouth with one hand, muffling it. 

He shushed you gently, but his breathing became ragged as he reached oblivion himself. You felt warmth flooding your cunt, his last thrusts shallow, fucking his spend deeper inside you and making sure no drop was wasted. He uncovered your mouth and kissed you as if in apology, both of you dazed and content.

He rolled over to lie very closely at your side, the cot barely big enough for the two of you. His strong arms enveloped you once more, making you feel safe perhaps for the first time in your life. There were still a few hours before sunrise – before Rome and everything else that came along with it became real again – so you could languish with him for a little while longer.

The last thing you wanted was to untangle yourself from him, anyway, instead nuzzling closer. Your fingers softly traced patterns on his forearm as you pondered what this might mean for the two of you.

“Do you… really intend to stake your claim on me?” You asked tentatively. “Outside of this?”

You deliberately avoided any specific labels, not foolish enough to presume anything. Things were still precarious and new, but you already felt bonded to him in a way you couldn’t truly explain, and a part of you had to believe he felt the same way.

“Of course,” he said, but seemed hesitant to say more.

You shifted onto your belly to look at him, his fingers now tracing up and down your spine lazily. 

“Are you certain?”

He nodded, sighing deeply. You’d already known there was a lot weighing on him that he did not speak about, and while you didn’t want to add to his burden, you needed to know this. If only to save yourself some pain.

“There are a great many things at stake right now, including my freedom,” he said, looking up at the ceiling pensively. “Much of what I still have to do is dangerous, and only the Gods know the outcome of it all. I intend to do everything in my power to protect you, in the meantime, and I cannot allow you to become a part of what must happen. I cannot risk losing you.”

You weighed his words for a moment, then nodded in understanding. “You are lucky, patience is a virtue I possess in great quantities.”

He looked back at you and kissed the tip of your nose affectionately. 

“I don’t make promises I don’t intend to keep,” he said, lacing his fingers through yours. “And I can promise you that as soon as I walk a free man, the first one I will run to is you.”

-------

[dateko]

a/n: another rando drabble... twas hiding amidst the dust in my drafts... i will never get to see the four of these silly geese happy ever again and they only exist in my google docs where nothing bad ever happens to them...

“Sensei, what is Sensei to you?” Yuuji asks suddenly, causing Gojo to stop in his tracks.

“Huh? Me?”

This time, Nobara groans. “No, you blindfolded idiot! That Sensei!” 

Gojo follows his young student’s gaze as she tilts her chin towards the field where the second-years are training. 

There, standing beside the ever-adorable Panda, is you. You watch with a proud smile on your face as the second years spar with one another, calling out praises along with death threats coming from Maki. It doesn’t take long for you to notice the first years and their slender mentor watching you from the steps. Your lips fight to bite down a smile as you throw out a wave, watching Satoru lift his mask to wink at you.

“See! See! Like that!” Nobara starts again excitedly, pointing at her teacher. “What is that woman to you?”

“Eh?” Gojo raises an eyebrow before lowering his mask. “She’s… A close friend of mine.”

“Sensei, you’re being secretive.” Yuuji offers him a skeptical look, to which Nobara nods along with adamantly. “Fushiguro, what do you think?”

Megumi glances at your figure with a dragging sigh before walking in front of his classmates. “If you ask me, she’s the one.”

Thing 1 and Thing 2 erupt with rowdy exclamations, practically bouncing off their teacher. Megumi continues to walk with a somewhat satisfied expression. The boy’s known you his entire life. Especially how much you mean to his blue-eyed benefactor. 

“B-but how do you know she’s really the one?” Yuuji asks this time, fully invested in his teacher’s love life.

Gojo shrugs nonchalantly. “I have good eyes, you know.”

“Well, now I just feel sorry for her. She has to deal with you every day!” Nobara deflates immediately, unsure of how to feel knowing someone she respects is romantically affiliated with her headache-inducing instructor.

“Hey! It’s a blessing to deal with me!” 

A pair of footsteps sneak up behind the group. “Deal with who?”

With a hand on your hip, you stop to tilt your head at the pairs of wide eyes looking at you. Even beneath his mask, you can tell Satoru looks more than guilty. 

“Something on my face?” You pat a hand on your cheek, wondering why no one’s said anything to you. 

Nobara breaks the silence by walking up to you with her head down, a downcast expression on her face. “Sensei… I’m so sorry for you…”

Confused and admittedly very concerned, you shoot Gojo a look before patting Nobara’s head reassuringly. And your lover holds a sheepish expression as he holds his hands clasped behind his back, an old habit he used to do when he knew he was in the wrong. 

“Alright, I might as well just say it,” Gojo starts, fixing the collar of his jacket. “I told them about us.”

Your eye widen at his words, lips sputtering for a normal response. “You told them we’re married?”

“Wait, married?! Meeting each other with good feelings is one thing, but married… Sensei, I thought you were better than this…" Nobara shakes her head dramatically before walking off, flashing you a disapproving look before dragging Yuuji along with her.

You watch the younger student walk off with a confused brow before returning to face your lover, who is grinning wildly at you. He's clearly over feeling guilty about exposing your little secret. Your questionable silence comes to Gojo as a queue to pull you into a loving embrace, a quiet apology for blowing your cover.

Without skipping a beat, you return the hug, giving up on trying to scold him. You squeak when Gojo rocks the two of you back and forth, pressing never-ending kisses on your jaw. “Just an FYI, Megumi was the one who told them.” He mutters, nose pressing itself into the crook of your neck.

You gasp, holding his face while you step back to look at him. “He wouldn’t do such a thing!”

“He said that you were the one.”

“Isn’t that what you said?”

“Shut up.”

You let out a giggle, a sound Gojo could listen to for hours on repeat. “You used to be so corny when we dated. Still now.”

“I don't think I could ever stop being corny. Only when it comes to you.”

[whatswrongwithblue]

Alastor Headcannons

Fem cat demon reader in a relationship with the Radio Demon

SFW

Rosie introduced him to you. Maybe not necessarily with the idea that you two would be romantic, but she saw similarities between you two and knew you would eventually hit it off.

Once you stopped constantly arguing, that is.

The man had been an Overlord for so long and had sworn off attempting romance for an even longer period, that he genuinely did not recognize his feelings for you as romantic inclinations at first.

He knew he liked you. Admired you. And enjoyed your company. Could talk to you for hours about anything and everything. So obviously that meant he wanted to own your soul.

That blew up in his face – almost literally.

He quickly found out there was nothing he could offer you, or do to you, including putting you in harms way, to force you into making any kind of deal with him. He couldn’t make himself do a damn thing to you. And that scared him and made him avoid you for a long time after that.

But when you two did eventually reunite, it was a lightbulb moment for him, and he pretty much immediately started pursuing an actual relationship with you.

PDA isn’t really his thing, besides hand holding and possibly a hand on the small of your back if he’s feeling extra possessive or wanting to show you off.

The biggest exception to this rule is dancing. He loves to take you dancing.

Surprisingly, he really doesn’t mind others knowing you two are an item.

Some might think he’d want to hide it, worried that others would see you as a weakness to exploit but honestly? Who would dare go after something the Radio Demon held in such high regard. Let them try, my dear.

In private, if he’s in a good mood, he’s quite the sweety.

His love language is definitely acts of service and quality time.

He’ll want to start each day relaxing, enjoying coffee and breakfast with you. He cooks. And throughout the day he really enjoys just being the same room with you, even if you’re both absorbed in your own tasks.

In private, if he’s in a bad mood, he’s very distant.

Don’t touch him and try not to interrupt his work.

He’ll still unconsciously show his affection for you by letting his guard down in these moments.

He’ll let his mask slip a little, show you how upset he is when he would never let anyone else know what’s capable of actually getting under his skin.

He’ll be in some disheveled state. Have his jacket off, or bow tie undone, or hair tied back. He’ll have his microphone across the room. Little things to show he’s still comfortable being vulnerable with you but still . . . best not push it because then he’ll get a little mean.

If you’ve accidentally hurt his feelings in some way, then the insults will start. He’ll call you annoying or dramatic, but he won’t raise his voice unless you do first. He rarely swears so when he does, you know he’s completely at his wits end with you or with whatever else has upset him.

He would never ever lay a hand on you.

If he’s really pushed to the edge, his power might be harder to control. Lights may break, his shadow will go nuts on the wall around you, and he’ll even take on a more demonic, imposing form, but you’ll still feel completely safe in his presence.

Have I mentioned how rare these arguments are? There’s a reason why he’s comfortable enough to be in a relationship with you, because 99% of the time, you understand each other perfectly and can calm the other one down.

At the end of a “no touch day” he’ll usually come find you and initiate some type of cuddle. Usually once you’ve already gone to bed.

He’ll slip under the sheets behind you, probably still a little damp from a shower, and either be the big spoon or, if you’re awake, rest his head on your chest while you stroke his ears.

Those ears are mighty sensitive. Not in a sexual way, but it always sooths his exhausted nervous system when he allows you to touch them like that.

That, and your purrs. No lullaby in the world is as potent as the mesmerizing sensation of your purrs when his body is laid close against yours.  

It took him a few months to admit it, but after the first time he told you he loved you; he says it all the time. His mother always told him you couldn’t overuse that phrase if you meant it, so you tend to hear it multiple times a day.

He isn’t fluent in Louisiana Creole, but he knows a few phrases, and will slip into the native accent of his youth and whisper them in your ears when he’s trying to sooth you if you’re the one upset.

He took decades to propose. You never pestered him about it, but Rosie did – and that probably made him take even longer to get around to it than if she had just let it alone.

Neither of you were super into the idea of a big ceremony but then word got out and half of Cannibal Town was asking about Save the Dates so you two decided that while the vow exchange would be short and sweet, the reception would be a fucking party.

NSFW

Sex had not been a part of this man’s life for a very long time.

He’d only been in two brief relationships, once as a teen, and once later to appease his mother, and neither one exactly went well.

Even his rut, which makes most other demons sex-crazed, used to just make him more aggressive and territorial. The physical aspects of it were easy to take care of in private, so he never had to seek out other outlets.

But then you came along and while it still wasn’t as much of a priority for him as it was for you, he still found himself enjoying and even desiring that kind of intimacy with you.

For the first time in . . . well, ever . . . he found himself initiating sex with someone, rather than the other way around, and you found yourself pleasantly satisfied whenever he was in the mood.

Don’t get me wrong, he could still be - and was often - very touch adverse, especially after a difficult day.

But if he’s happy and relaxed and you’re around . . . you two are going to end up under the covers.

He used to hate his tail. He’d even cut it off more than once, but it always grew back. But you liked it and he liked anything that pleased you. And then you started touching it during intercourse and he really liked that.

If the guy has one cum button, it’s you stroking his tail while he’s inside you.

It also really helps that you are so comfortable with your tail and you constantly let him touch it.

He’s definitely a top. Sex is just not interesting to him unless he knows you’re getting off, so it’s either mutual pleasure or your pleasure, but he doesn’t care for anything that involves just his body.

You enjoy going down on him, and it’s okay for him, at least for starters, but he rarely lets you do it for very long. It’s just . . . boring, for him. He’ll compromise and 69 if you’re really in the mood for that kind of thing.

He gets very excited when you’re in heat.

It’s the only thing that can -almost- always override his touch aversion on a bad day.

The idea of you wanting him that much, to the point of it being a near constant physical need for him to be inside you, really gets him going.

He wears out faster than you do, but even after he can’t get it up anymore, he has a multitude of other appendages (fingers, tongue, tentacles) and even some toys that he thoroughly enjoys using on you until you are finally sated.

He’s not one for dirty talk. It makes him uncomfortable, and he finds it distracting. He stays pretty quiet himself during sex, but he loves the needy little moans and whines you make.

He does bite.

And slap your ass.

He’s not usually one for restraints or whips, but he does enjoy marking you with his teeth and claws. Again, this man wanted to own your soul, so he’s going to enjoy leaving physical reminders all over your body that you are his.

His rut is much harder to handle now that he’s sexually active.

And he’s very different in bed when he’s in a rut.

That’s when he dirty talks.

And that’s when he really gets rough.

You have on more than one occasion been face fucked to the point of choking and tears.

And those shadow tentacles really come out to play during that time of year.

They’ll be wrapped around your body, your neck, limbs, etc. They’ll fuck your mouth, your ass, any part of you that his cock isn’t in. He wants you completely controlled and filled up by him when he’s fucking you in his rut.

And he can go for a very long time. Multiple times. You learned after the first year to just plan on taking a vacation that time of year because really, other than eating and sleeping, he pretty much demands that’s all you two do.

He can sometimes lose control of his power and his bodily form during sex.

You’ll know when he’s close to climax because those antlers get massive and his eyes tend to go black. And if he’s in a rut, he can get a little  . . . big.

Like, all of him. His entire body. But also yes, his dick gets larger then, too.

One time, you were just about to say you were getting stretched a little too much down there, and his weight was starting to crush you, when he literally broke the bed. That’s all hot and steamy in romance novels, but you just about broke your tail that night and ended up nearly impaled by the bed frame.

Another time, he got his antlers stuck in the backboard of the bed and that was even more embarrassing for him than breaking the actual bed had been because it took him so long to calm down enough to control the size of those things and meanwhile you had just been pinned beneath him and laughing hysterically at the very horny, very frustrated, very stuck husband of yours.

He’s a self-inflicted insomniac and doesn’t let himself sleep much, so after sex, he tends to pass out next to you and when he finally wakes up, he usually insists you join him in the bath or shower for some aftercare.

He’ll help clean any wounds that haven’t already healed, massage your overworked muscles, and verbally check in with you that he didn’t take things too far. Especially since after a rough rut-induced session, he gets awfully insecure about the things he did to you in the heat of the moment.

Of course, you’re always happy to ensure him that you really enjoy that side of him and you’ve never felt like he’d taken anything too far with you.

(P.S. These are some ideas I worked through on what this ace-spectrum Overlord man would be like in a committed relationship for my new OC wife x Alastor fic. I’ve been working on it for weeks now and am just about ready to start posting. It’s been very difficult writing him truly in character while also navigating meeting my OC, coming to terms with his feelings for her, and how he would behave as a partner/husband. For this post - so that it can be its own standalone work - I’ve changed all the wording to Y/N, with the only specifics being that Y/N is a cat demon. But if you really enjoyed this, I hope you’ll stick around for The Fire in the Sin. It’s going to essentially be all of the above turned into a novel, that’s half prequel and half current events for Hazbin Hotel.)

[un-lawliet]

— just a small drabble about Gojo sheltering you from the rain :)

It was like you didn’t seem to care.

Walking slightly behind the first years, your arm outstretched, umbrella firm in your grasp as you shielded them from the timid monsoon invading your journey.

Your clothes were slowly soaking up the rain, but you neglected yourself the same protection as you provided to the students.

You clearly didn’t notice how your hands were beginning to tremble, how the cold permeated your being like soaked glove, too focused on praising Nobara for her “Excellent display of leadership” during their last joint mission.

“And don’t think I’m leaving you boys out of this!” You gleefully empathised, glancing up ever so slightly to ensure the umbrella was still covering the three of them, “You’re all really coming along with the whole ‘working as a team’ thing, well done!”

Gojo walked behind, watching you, always watching you, an almost unnoticeable downwards tilt on his lips as your clothes saturated in the downfall.

You were always so caring.

“Yea!” Itadori beamed, his arms flinging over both Nobara and Megumi, pulling them closer. “We do make a great team ay?”

“Under my leadership, of course we do.” Nobara was grinning, her hand subconsciously stroking the brown sac in which her hammer lay, a cheeky look in her eye as she raised her head to look at Yuji.

“I had to point out the curse to stop both of you being surprise attacked you know?” Megumi muttered, glancing at the arm around his shoulder.

“Only because Itadori got stuck under that shitty pile of rocks and wouldn’t stop whining! I was distracted.”

“Hey! That wasn’t my fault- you pushed me?!?!”

“You got in the way of my attack it’s not the same thing!”

“Really? …I could have sworn you were aiming for his head.”

“Who’s side are you on here Megumi?!?!”

You turned back to Gojo, your eyes brimming with childish joy, you were reminiscing quietly of your own youth, holding back a chuckle, and Gojo couldn’t help but stare, his blindfold hiding the softest expression, his face appearing impassive to any passer-by’s.

And you’re turning back around, a light bounce in your step ready to remind the trio that they all preformed excellently, and Gojo hesitated, eyes still focused on the way rain was pelting down on your figure.

In every sense of the word; Satoru Gojo is untouchable.

He’s the strongest, basking in the glory of loneliness that such strength invites. Nobody can reach him, nobody will ever come close.

His name, status and abilities are simply, unreachable.

Not even the soft pitter patter of the rain can bridge the lack of contact.

Each droplet slowing and slowing until it gives up, deciding it's not worth a touch, that he's not worthy of touch.

Satoru Gojo was a man who braved the world alone, and this was a destiny he had known far too long to resent it, or to crave a world otherwise.

Until he met you, and your pretty smile, and your gentle way of care.

Pestering him when he doesn’t report back after his missions, your voice laced with concern that he did not need.

Of course he came back ok, he was the strongest.

And yet you still worried, shaking your head at his carelessness.

“Strongest or not, I’d prefer to know that you’re alive.”

And so Gojo hesitated.

His brain screaming at him to stay put, to not let you in, to stay as far away from you as he could possibly could.

It’s better when he’s alone, he’s stronger when he’s alone.

But his body seemed to crave you as much as his heart yearned for you, and seemingly against his will, his feet sped up, taking two strides until he was beside you, an easy smile on his face, concealing the tremor he felt in his heart.

You look at him, your face glowing with an unperturbed joy, welcoming him into the conversation with an ease that comes naturally when you’re with him.

“My amazing teaching’s paying off, eh?” His voice came out gentle, and you were sure he winked under his mask.

“Must be.” You giggle, and then you’re pausing, your eyebrows raised in confusion.

It was no longer raining.

Or more-so, it was no longer raining on you.

Turning your head you catch the slight smirk of the man beside you, who didn’t attempt to share your gaze, instead opting to tease Megumi for pouting, his voice light, a small spring in his step.

And you’re ogling at how the rain falls towards you but stops just short, slowing to a halt.

You were in his infinity, he had shared his space with you.

You wanted to cry.

Quietly you whisper a small “Thank you,” to Gojo, who’s smile only widened.

He didn’t reply, but the gentle feeling of his pinkie brushing yours made you swoon, persisting onwards, with your umbrella in-front of you, your hand entangled with the strongest.

masterlist

feel free to leave a request !!

[neoarchipelago]

And they were roommates

Word count: no idea

TW: arachnophobia, slight mention of steamy stuff. Future smut, 18+ stuff if this keeps going.

A/N: I don't know what this is. I started writing this as  multiple small headcanons so it might be a recurring series but we'll see. I think it'll depend on whether you guys like this or not. It will turn into romance and smut but it'll be the slow burn we all expect.

Please be kind i haven't written anything in a very long time...

________

You were thrilled yet anxious. The two bedroom apartment felt tiny now that the news had fallen. Someone was moving in with you. The army had provided the housing. You were after all their little bird. You cringed at the thought. You were actually a hacker. Before being part of the team you had been one the most searched cyber criminal of the decade. Sparrow.  Being young hasn't stopped you from being very skilled in what you do. 

Eventually you grew tired of the hiding. So you accepted a deal. Now you were the little bird in a golden cage, hidden from the world by the army. The golden cage being a spacious two bedroom apartment near one of the bases, not too far from downtown. Sometimes moving around the world, always in a new place but this, this was your 'home'. 

But a week ago, a knock was heard at the door. Laswell passed by for a coffee and dropped the news that someone was being affected to this apartment too. You were shocked at first. 

"Lieutenant Riley will be taking the second bedroom. He's… how do I say it…"

She frowned. 

"Intimidating. But he's not mean. You'll be perfectly fine."

You kept fidgeting with your fingers, the tv playing on the wall completely forgotten as you waited for your new roommate. The couch was big, you had bought many fluffy pillows and blankets for movie nights. You sighed letting yourself fall down to the left. 

You were so used to living alone. Would you two cohabitate well together? Will he be ok with your gaming on the big TV? Maybe he'll play with you! 

You sat back up at the thought, excited for a second to maybe, just maybe, feel less alone in this world. 

You jumped from the couch when the door unlocked in the hallway and Laswell's voice rang. 

"You are free to do as you wish with your room, the rest of the house, including the bathroom, is common space." 

You bit your lip, slightly excited to see who would show up in the living room's doorway. 

Laswell appeared first, a soft smile on her lips, sending a wink your way. You stood next to the couch, hands behind your back. 

Right then, he was there. Black hoodie black sweatpants. A big duffle bag on his shoulder. But mostly, the most noticeable thing was the mask. A black balaclava with … is that a real skull?! You swallowed the lump in your throat. His gaze was dark, scanning you. You felt like a prey under the eye of a predator. A chill ran down your spine. 

Yes. He was intimidating like she warned. But you were still attracted to his frame. Curiosity prickling at your skin just by looking at him. 

"Sparrow." 

You smiled at Laswell, stepping closer to them, leaving at least two feet in between. 

"Lieutenant, this is Sparrow. She's a hacker for the army. One of the best. She will be your roommate." 

She then turned to you, a soft smile on her features. 

"Sparrow… this is Lieutenant Ghost. He's part of squad 141. I purposely avoided voicing your real names. I'll leave it up to you two if you feel comfortable enough for it."

Silence fell again. It was heavy. Laswell broke it before it could engulf you. 

"Sparrow. I'll leave it to you. You can show the lieutenant around."

You nodded, biting your lip again. She spun around, the sound of her boots hitting the floor before the door was heard. 

You looked up at the man in front of you. He easily towered you, his frame imposing. 

"H-hi…" you smiled. 

Your voice was slightly shaking. You didn't know if it was the adrenaline or the curiosity. 

"Hello." 

His deep voice sent a shiver down your spine again. You cleared your throat. Looking around the room you started your little speech.

"So hum… this is the living room, as you can see it opens to the kitchen. I've made some space in the fridge for your stuff but you can get some of the stuff that's in there as much as you want. Hum… you can pretty much use whatever you need in the cupboards." 

You looked back up at him. He glanced around before letting his gaze fall back on you. 

"Let me show you the rest of the house…" 

You smiled, turning around to walk him through the rest of your now shared apartment.

—

It has been a week your new roommate moved in.

The heat of the stove on your skin felt amazing in this cold weather. Your mind kept running around to the man sleeping in the room facing yours. 

You had barely spoken in a week. He got up early, came back around 8 pm and went back to his room. You had noticed a few things missing from the fridge but nothing that could be a meal. For some reason you were worried. That wasn't healthy at all. 

You kept stirring the pot in front of you. The clock on the wall showed 9:30 pm. You were cooking a late dinner after working on a new program all afternoon. He had walked in at 8 pm as usual, throwing a polite good evening your way as you sat at the counter working on your laptop before heading to his room. He had come out once to go to the bathroom but went right back to his little hideout. 

You bit your lip again, a noticeable habit of yours in stressful situations or deep thoughts. You didn't understand why your hands were slightly shaking when you placed the food on the plates. You were just hoping he wouldn't get mad at you or take offense.

You firstly took your plate and a can of soda to your room, placing it down on your desk. Heading back to the kitchen next to place the second plate on a service tray, with a knife and fork, a spoon with a strawberry flavored yogurt, a can of soda and a cup of water. You had added a little note wishing him a good night. 

You took a deep breath, slowly lifting the tray, calmly walking to the door facing yours. You put the tray down, and stared at the door in front of you. Lifting your fist you knocked on the door. You waited just a second to make sure you could hear him walk to the door before darting to your own room and closing the door behind you. 

You held your breath, listening through the door as he opened his own. You were hoping that he wasn't going to come screaming and knocking at your door. And it didn't happen. You simply heard his door close again. 

Slightly opening your door ajar, you glanced at the ground, smiling as you noticed the tray gone. You made sure to close back your door as silently as possible before going to eat your own dinner. 

In the morning you woke up around 10. You had stayed up late, indulging yourself in some gaming. Opening the door to a small bag in front of it. Picking it up you glanced inside to see some muffins with a little note. 

'good morning' roughly scribbled. 

You smiled. You walked to the living room freezing as you noticed him sitting at the counter in the kitchen. He was looking at a file when he glanced back at you. 

"Good morning." His deep voice rang in your ears. 

"Good morning!" You answered, awfully cheerfully compared to his tone. 

A soft silence set before you both interrupted. 

"Than-"

"You didn-"

Silence again. You chuckled slightly. Apologizing. You walked up to the counter and you stood next to where he sat. He smelled of fresh shampoo. You supposed he went for a run around the base and had showered. 

"You didn't have to share dinner." 

You looked at his eyes. You tried to distinguish a little ounce of his thoughts. Was he angry? Annoyed? Grateful? 

"I know. I did it because I wanted to." You answered. 

"Thanks." He added. 

"Thanks for the muffins" you spoke with a wide smile. You took the seat next to him, you noticed him stiffening for a second as he straightened his posture but didn't leave his spot. 

"You're welcome." 

You grabbed a muffin in the bag, taking a bite and humming at the taste. You could feel his glance on you at the sound before he turned back to his file. 

"Do you not cook?" You asked, making him look back at you. 

For a second you worried you might have overstepped. After all, this was the closest thing to a conversation you both had since he moved in. 

"No." 

You swallowed. 

"Why?" You asked. 

He looked at you, sizing you up. You could see he was questioning himself if he could tell you or not the answer to that. 

"I… I'm not good at it." He finally let out. 

You blinked before nodding in understanding. Looking at your muffin you took another bite.

"Well…" you started, mouth half full. 

"Dinner will be ready at 8:30. Do you have any allergies? " You asked, turning back to him. 

"It's alright, you don't have-." He started. 

"I Know." You interrupted making him wince under his mask. 

You smiled at him. 

"We live together. I cook for myself. I don't mind at all cooking for both. Let's make a deal. You bring breakfast, because… clearly you're an early bird. And I make dinner. I can't promise that it'll always be good, because I'm not a great cook, but warm meals are a must in this house." 

You looked at him, your mind repeating again and again that this was too much that you fucked it up. 

"Deal." He finally answered. 

You smiled even brighter at him. 

"Perfect!" You squealed before biting again the poor muffin. 

You got your phone out to roam through social media as his voice reached your ears one last time that morning.

"You're a good cook." 

—

A little routine had settled in. Ghost, as you now called him, got up early, went for his morning run, brought breakfast and showered while you got up and brewed coffee or tea. 

During the day he'd either go to base or stay home, watching TV in silence with you or writing a report if you were working. During the evening you made some tea again if he was home.

You'd prepare dinner for the both of you, trying new things since you were now cooking for someone else. You were glad that all this time being alone stuck in a house had given you plenty of free time to work on your cooking skills. 

Eventually the night would slowly come to an end with either a bit of tv or working. 

You were pretty happy with how things were turning out. You were both slowly learning to trust each other and that was heartwarming to you. 

You stood in the kitchen drying the dishes ghost had washed from lunch. You were humming softly, a cup in hand. Ghost had gone to his room to take a work call. Your thoughts softly roamed over your work in the morning. 

Since you had started to get breakfast with ghost, you had started waking up earlier. It did give you more time to work during the day then having to do it during the night. 

You spun around, going to place the glass in your hand on the counter when your eyes stumbled on a huge spider. Near the edge. 

You dropped the cup, glass shattering on the floor as you stepped back, climbing on the counter behind you. You yelped. God it's huge you thought. You both stared at each other, as if the spider was as shocked as you by your reaction. 

Ghost appeared running from the hallway where the bedrooms were. Glancing at your scared face he frowned. 

"What's wrong?! What happened?!" His tone urged. 

You breathed, seeing his agitation caused by your little scaredy self. 

"I-i'm sorry… it's nothing… i just…" you tried through the guilt of worrying him. 

Worry..? He was worried..? No. It must be his soldier's instinct.

He approached your frame up on the counter, before following your frightened gaze. As he saw the spider his shoulder lowered with a sigh. It was indeed nothing. He reached for it, softly grabbing it, making you yelp again. He walked to the window opening it before dropping the friendly yet apparently terrifying thing out. He closed the window again, now turning to you. 

"I'm sorry…" you simply said in a small voice, as he just stared at you. 

He glanced down at the broken glass, careful to not step on anything as he made his way to you on the counter.

"It's alright. If you would have screamed I would have brought a gun." He joked. 

You whined at his teasing, ready to drop yourself down to the floor. 

In a flash his hand came to grab your hips, immobilizing you. Your hands immediately flew to wrap around his wrists. You felt your cheeks burn at the sudden touch. His hands softly traveled up to your waist. Making your  breath hitch. The big baggy t-shirt you were wearing slightly hitching up your thighs. 

It was the first time he was actually touching you. His hands were big. His grip was strong, you knew you couldn't slip away. 

"W-what is it..?" You asked, looking at him. 

He was frowning. One of his hands left your waist to wrap around your left ankle as he squatted down to inspect it. 

It finally hit you as you saw the small droplets of blood. You must have cut yourself with the glass pieces. He rose again. Even while sitting on the counter, you had to look up to look him in the eyes. 

"You ok?" He asked. 

"Yes… it's nothing. Barely hurts." You smiled.

He nodded. 

You tried to get off the counter again but he reached for your waist again. 

"Don't." He ordered. Sending a chill down your spine. 

He seemed to think for a minute. Debating on the next move. He spun around, now back turned to you. His hands met your exposed thighs and you felt goosebumps. For the second time today it hit you that he wasn't wearing his gloves. Something rare for him. His skin burned against yours. 

He pulled you to him, legs spread, surrounding his waist. You finally understood what he was trying to do. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders as he lifted you up onto his back. You tried hiding your blush in his neck. He was stiff at the action but walked to the couch anyhow. Dropping you softly on it he kneeled once more in front of you. 

"Ghost… really it's just a scratch…" you tried again with an embarrassed chuckle. 

Your breath hitched again feeling his hands wrap around your ankle. His touch was gentle. Something contrasting with his imposing frame and usual cold gaze. 

"Stay. I'll go get something to clean up the wound." He said standing up, planting his eyes right into yours. 

You felt tiny. And he was taking care of you. A ping of guilt shot through you again. 

"I'm sorry I'm bothering you." You let out in an awfully tiny voice. 

"You're not." He answered. He paused for a second before his gaze ever so slightly softened. "Next time just call me." 

On that, he left for the bathroom, leaving you on the couch, heart stammering against your chest. 

[my-hyperfixation-stories]

Jealousy, Jealousy

Warnings- Enemies to Lovers, Jealous!Theodore, Hufflepuff!Reader, Secret Dating, Google Translated Italian.

Pairing- Theodore Nott x Hufflepuff!Reader

Summary- For as long as Theo has known y/n they have vowed to be enemies. It was only natural given their house status and friend groups. If word ever got out that the two were romantically involved their friends would go mental. That’s why behind the mask of their undying hatred towards each other they found ways to constantly be alone. This fake act however, seemed to be getting old. The longer it went the more Y/n ceased to care. With Theo urging it to continuing she decides to give him a taste of what he will be missing out on if he let their relationship go public. Will they get caught by their friend group? Will this all come crashing down in the long run?

The eruption of voices in the great hall felt millions of miles away as all of Y/n’s focus yearned to be on one person in particular. Someone who had yet to enter the great hall and satisfy her urges to see him. The voices of Y/n’s friends seemed to be ignored until the volume in which they spoke gradually increased. That was until one in particular seemed to rip Y/n from her thoughts.

“Y/n?.. are you attending or what? You’re the only one yet to answer?” Hannah’s voice questioned staring at her dazed friend who seemed wrapped up in thought.

“Attending what?..” Y/n’s response was soft but laced with confusion earning a few giggles from the group. “The party tonight? Slytherins are hosting one in their common room and decided to invite the other houses. Are you coming with us?” She questioned making Y/n shrug. “I don’t know, the Slytherins don’t seem to fond of us.. are you sure this isn’t some set up?” Hannah just shrugs lamely to the question. “Whatever I might go.. if I can find something to wear..” y/n trails off as her eyes return to scanning the crowd of students.

“I’m going to head back to the dorm.. get me if you have any updates.” Y/n directs Hannah making her nod as she bids farewell to her friend. Y/n’s smile quickly fading as she leaves the group. It didn’t help that the first thing she saw was the very man she had been looking for talking to Daphne Greengrass. Y/n’s brows furrowed into a glare that Theo faintly caught as she exited The Great Hall.

Y/n would give everything for the two of them to be public. She knew her friends would disapprove but if they were truly her friends they would learn to accept him. Theo never seemed to grasp that reasoning as his friends were more hardheaded than Y/n’s. Seeing him with Greengrass made Y/n realize that maybe he was ashamed of her. Why be with a Hufflepuff when there are so many pureblood Slytherins girls roaming the campus. Her mind seemed to betray her as those thoughts swarmed her head. In order to find some escape she made an impromptu turn into the library to help ease the thoughts away.

“What’s with the look?..” She slowed to a stop refusing to turn to him. Not when her mind was heading in the direction it was. “I didn’t give you a look.. I’m just not feeling well Nott.” She could almost feel him cringe at the formal tone to her voice. “Don’t call me that. You don’t call me that unless we are around people.. what’s wrong?.” She finally gave in turning to Theo himself. His face showing clear signs of confusion and worry that almost made her feel bad for him.

“Time and Time again you dismiss of me. I know your reasoning but I can’t help but think there is more to it. I’m not a Pureblooded Slytherin like your friends date. I’m an outlier.. I can’t help but think you’re ashamed of me.” Theo’s eyes falter into shock as she comes clean about her thoughts. “I’m not ashamed of you.” “Then why do you hide me.? If your reasoning is that your friends don’t approve then that there tells me your ashamed by how they would see you with me. I’m done hiding Theo.. especially when I see you talking to those girls so openly not caring what anyone thinks.” His lips form a thin line as he is at a loss for words. “Exactly.. I’m attending the party tonight. If you really care about our relationship you can prove it to me there.. if not then… then this is over between us..” the ultimatum made Theos heart feel as if it was beating at unhealthy speeds. He watched her exit the library with glossy eyes making him feel even worse.

She had spent forever staring into the depths of her closet trying to find the perfect outfit for the occasion. If Theo didn’t approach her she would go to someone else. In order for that tactic to work she was in search for one dress in particular that made her confidence soar whenever she wore it. She grabs her wand waving it to where the dress would reveal itself amongst the piles of clothing. It represented her house showing that even if Theo couldn’t accept her she wasn’t going to give in and change herself.

After putting on the dress she fixed up her hair making herself completely presentable to what she believed to be perfect. All of this confidence seemed to vanish the moment she approached the opening to the Slytherin commons. Everything was silent and she couldn’t help but hate herself. Especially muttering the words that she used earlier to shame herself. “Pureblood..” it came out as a whisper but was enough to open the way into the commons. Th second she entered the silencing spell granted her permission to hear the booming music with voices hidden beneath it.

Almost immediately she made eye contact with Theo. His eyes held nothing but admiration and pain as he took in the full beauty of his girlfriend. Yet she showed no emotion when she rolled her eyes dismissively to go in search of her friends.

“Y/N!!! YOU CAME!!” Hannah cheered wrapping her arms around y/n’s neck pulling out the long awaited smile that she had been needing. “Seeing the common room filled with so many people is odd, it’s usually empty when I’m here!” Y/n points out making Hannah look confused. “You come here often? I didn’t think you knew any Slytherins like that?!” This makes Y/n’s face fall breaking her smile before it returns trying to keep up her act. “I had project with Astoria, she brought me to her dorm a couple of times!” Though it wasn’t a full lie it wasn’t what she was originally referring to.

Hannah’s smiling face turns into a scowl as she looks behind Y/n. She turns to see Theo approaching her. Her heartbeat increased as she kept an unreadable expression. “Nott. Come to bother me again eh?.. you seem to be good at shaming me, at a party is pretty low don’t you think?..” her question seemed to earn a tensing jaw from Theo as he took a breath.

“I know I’ve harmed you in the past.. I’ve come to.. apologize..” he says looking over at her friend who stood right beside Y/n protectively. “You look good..” his eyes showing every emotion possible leaving a stinging sensation in her heart.

Hannah noticed the way they both stared longingly into each others eyes almost hurtfully. “Always the charmer aren’t you Theo. A few words don’t fix everything you’ve done though. Try better I’m not someone you can try and use just because you feel bad.” Y/n walks away without letting Theo respond

“y/n wait.. shit..” he groans making Hannah look skeptical. “What do you want from her? You’re the last person to come up and try to make amends with her.” Hannah says earning a glare from Theo before an idea comes to his head. “I’m going to tell you this if you promise to help me.” He says making her look confused. “Why would I do that? You’re a horrible person.” He winces at the insult but looks at her pleading for help. “What?.. why are you looking at me like that.. fine what is it?..”

He looks around as his heart beats a million miles per hour. “Me and Y/n have been.. been um..” his chest seems to be heaving making Hannah look concerned. “I’m completely inlove with her and I’ve screwed up way too much.. I’m afraid I’m going to lose her and she wants me to prove it but I’m scared of how my friends are going to react but I care for her beyond belief.” He spits out completely shocking Hannah. “I’m lost, what?!” She asks making him look into her eyes showing how serious he is. “I’ve been dating her for about 6months.. this whole enemies thing is a lie.. now I think I’ve lost her and I need your help.”

Y/n had went up to Cedric Diggory not long after her interaction with Theo. “Why do you look so upset?” Diggory was a friend of Y/n’s despite the two being in different years. He was like a big brother to her which is exactly why she went up to him. “This guy.. I just need to get him off of my mind.. he acts like he wants me but never commits fully.. it’s driving me mad.” She admits leaving Cedric skeptical of who this could be about. “Give him an ultimatum to prove himself.” This makes her look even worse. “I have.. but I’m scared he won’t take it.”

“It’s his loss, anyone stupid enough to lose you isn’t worth your time of day let alone thoughts. He’s probably too absorbed in his thoughts to really see you for who you are.” This makes her smile letting her thoughts lift from her mind. “Plus you’re like perfect I’m sure any other guy would praise you.” This comment brings a laugh upon her lips as Cedric smiles down at her. She rests her head on his shoulder taking in a deep breath. “Thank you Cedric.. I needed that.” He gives her a soft smile.

This was until yet again a scowl formed on his face. She turns seeing Theo’s face glaring at Cedric holding everything back from punching his face. “Theo..dore Nott.. why are you following me. Let me breath you’re suffocating me with your presence please.. leave me alone!.. you’ve proven time and time again that I’m not worthy of your presence why torture me with it.” His expression softened when looking at her but quickly grew sour as Cedric placed his hands on her shoulders. “She wants you to leave so leave. No one asked you to be here.” Cedric says with a protective tone that instantly straightened Theo’s spine as he stepped forward. “Get your hands off of her.” This makes Diggory step infront of her challenging Theo’s demand. This action seemed to piss Theo off even more. “Who are you to order me around?..” he says stepping forward making Theo’s eyes show nothing but hate. Y/n started to intervene before the next words left Theo’s lips.

“Her boyfriend. Now back off.” This makes Cedric scoff. “Must be a piece of work if she’s coming to me to forget about you.” This sentence was the thing that broke Theo. His fist quickly met Cedric’s as a full out fight broke out. Mattheo and Draco quickly ran up pulling Theo off as some Hufflepuff beaters stepped in to help Cedric fight. Eventually the two got seperated but that didn’t stop their mouths. “Don’t ever fucking touch her again!!” “Learn how to make her happy and I wouldn’t have to protect her from you!!” “She’s my girlfriend not yours that’s my job!” “Then actually do it you’re not worth it if you don’t prove it!”

The party ended early as Y/n and Hannah stay behind with Mattheo, Draco, Enzo, and Blaise who were all working on calming Theo down. “Who was that even over anyway?? You went mental over some girl?” Mattheo questioned making Theo’s eyes train onto hers. Mattheo went to turn only to be pushed to the side by Y/n who approached Theo. “I’m sorry. I-”

A loud smack rang through the room as some of his friends quietly cursed. Her eyes seemed to be full of anger and sadness leaving him heartbroken. “You don’t get to do that Theo. That’s not what I meant by prove it you asshole!.. Cedric was helping me feel better because you are driving me mad with how idiotic you are!” He goes quiet looking around at his friends.

They all look surprised everything was quiet until Enzo spoke. “If that’s your girl damn..” Theo glares going to argue until Mattheo laughs. “That Hufflepuffs tougher than you bro.” All his friends seem to joke around none really bothered by the fact that the two were dating.

This only left Y/n staring at Theo who looked guilty. “See.. it was always just you..” Her voice wavered as tears threatened to spill. This makes everyone go quiet seeing the tension between the two. Hannah got them to leave the two alone in the commons to sort out whatever was happening. “Cara Mia I’m sorry.. I tried getting your friend to help me but by that time I saw Diggory and.. I lost it. I didn’t care what people thought of me I just wanted him away from you.. forgive me principessa. I’ll prove how sorry I am please..” he begged making her heart beat increase.

“You told Hannah?..” he slowly nods. “Practically begged her to help me.. after basically confessing my love over you she seemed to pity me enough to help.. I should’ve taken her advice and..” his excuse was cut short by y/n’s lips hushing him up. His hand moving up hesitating to touch the back of her head. Everything was so real she didn’t know she was crying until she pulled away.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell them sooner.. they’ve been my mates since I was little I was scared of losing them.. but I think I was more scared of how they would’ve treated you I didn’t think about how I was treating you.. ti amo tanto..” she gives him a small smile before pulling him into a hug. “I love you too.. I forgive you Theo.. I think I was just scared that you didn’t really want me as much as you promised.. which thinking about it now was stupid.. I’m sorry.” “Don’t apologize. That’s only for me to do.. please stay with me tonight.. I don’t want you leaving me for a second.” This makes her laugh earning a loving smile from Theo as he takes in all of her features. “I can’t believe I almost lost the prettiest girl in the world just because I was too stupid to realize everything I had.”

[cheynovak]

Whiskey, Cards, and Secrets

Dean Winchester x Y/N female character

Summary: Dean dares his best friend Y/N to a game of strip poker, unknowingly pushing her insecurities.

Warning: Plussize reader, body insecurities

English isn't my first language.

Please do not copy my work. Share/Like/Comments are welcome.

The motel room was dimly lit, the flickering of the old TV casting faint shadows across the walls. The unmistakable clink of whiskey glasses filled the quiet space as Y/N and Dean sat at the table, a deck of cards between them. It was one of those rare quiet nights where the world wasn’t ending and there were no demons to hunt — just the two of them.

Y/N shuffled the cards while Dean poured another shot, his green eyes glinting mischievously in the low light. They’d been best friends for years, and in that time, she’d always kept her secret crush hidden behind friendly banter and teasing. It wasn’t easy, especially when she saw Dean with those women—skinny, confident, the kind of girls he always seemed to go for. And then there was her, plus-size and self-conscious about it.

“You gonna deal those or just sit there looking pretty, sweetheart?” Dean smirked, taking a slow sip from his glass.

She rolled her eyes, masking the warmth that his compliment stirred. “Yeah, yeah, I’m dealing, hold your horses, Winchester.”

They played a few rounds of poker, the stakes rising with each one. It was just fun, though—until Dean raised the stakes even higher.

"How ‘bout we make this more interesting?" he asked, his voice dropping just a little, that teasing grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

Y/N glanced at him over her cards, eyebrow raised. "Oh yeah? What’re you thinking?"

Dean leaned forward, elbows on the table, his gaze steady on hers. "Strip poker."

Her stomach flipped at the suggestion, heat rushing to her face. She tried to laugh it off, but the insecurity bubbled up quickly. "Dean, c’mon. You know I’m not—" She trailed off, her throat tightening. She could barely get the words out, the thought of undressing in front of him making her want to curl up and hide.

Dean’s smile faltered for a second, and he tilted his head, studying her. "What? Scared you’re gonna lose?"

She looked down at her cards, biting her lip. The truth was, it wasn’t the losing that scared her. It was Dean seeing her body, seeing all the parts of herself she’d spent years being insecure about. He’d never been into girls like her, and she’d seen him with more women than she cared to count. They were always so… small. Slim. Everything she wasn’t.

She let out a shaky breath, dropping her cards. "Dean, you know why. I don’t— I can’t… I’m not like those girls you date, or usually see without clothes." Her voice was barely a whisper.

Dean frowned, leaning back in his chair. He reached for the whiskey bottle, pouring another shot but not drinking it. "Y/N," he said slowly, the teasing tone gone from his voice, "what’re you talking about?"

"You know what I’m talking about, Dean," she said, her voice a little stronger now, though her heart was pounding in her chest. "You’ve never been into girls like me. I mean, look at me." She gestured down at herself, the insecurities she’d buried for so long spilling out in a rush. "I’m not skinny, I’m not—"

"Hey, stop," Dean interrupted, his voice firm. He put his glass down with a hard thud, and when he looked at her, his gaze was serious, intense. "You think I don’t notice you?"

She blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his tone.

"Y/N, you have no idea," he muttered, shaking his head, almost like he was mad at himself. "I’ve been trying to keep my damn head on straight around you for years. You think I date skinny girls because that’s what I want? Nah. That’s just me being an idiot, trying to make you jealous."

Her eyes widened. "What?"

"Yeah," he huffed, running a hand through his hair, eyes locking with hers. "You drive me crazy, Y/N. Every time you walk around in those damn shorts…" His gaze dropped to her thighs, lingering there for a moment before flicking back to her face swallowing hard. "The way they hug your legs, the way your hips move when you dance. Hell, I don’t think you realize how many times I’ve had to stop myself from staring.

Y/N felt her face heat up, a deep blush spreading across her cheeks. She opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out. She’d spent so long thinking she wasn’t his type, and now here he was, saying things that made her head spin.

"And your skin," he added, his voice dropping lower, more intimate. "I always wondered how soft it’d feel. Every time you brushed against me, it was like… I don’t know. I’m not good with this crap, but you’re more than just some friend, okay?"

"Fuck I... I try to find girls as far off from your looks because there is no way they are remotely close to your beauty... You have no idea how many times I wanted to run my hards over your curves, knead that perfect flesh."

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat, her heart racing as she stared at him. "Dean… I—"

"I know you don’t like me that same way," he admitted, his voice rougher now, as if the words were being dragged out of him. "So yeah, I went for girls that didn’t mean anything, just to try and get you out of my head. But it never worked."

She swallowed hard, her emotions swirling between disbelief and the overwhelming warmth that came from hearing him finally say what she’d been wanting to hear for so long. "Dean, I’ve had a crush on you for years."

He let out a low, smirk "Yeah? Guess we’ve both been blind idiots then."He took another sip.

The tension in the room shifted, something electric crackling between them. Dean stood up slowly, walking around the table until he was standing right in front of her. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, his touch gentle but full of intent.

"I don’t care about those girls, Y/N. I want you. All of you. Every damn curve, every inch." His hand rested on her shoulder, then slid down her arm, his fingers trailing lightly over her skin, sending shivers down her spine.

She didn’t know what to say, her insecurities still there, but his words made them feel small, insignificant.

"I… I don’t know if I’m ready for—"

He stopped her, leaning down so their foreheads almost touched. "Hey, we don’t have to do anything tonight, alright? I just wanted you to know how I feel."

Y/N nodded, her heart still pounding, but the weight that had been sitting on her chest for so long was finally lifting. Dean wasn’t just teasing. He meant it.

And for the first time in a long time, she let herself believe that maybe she was exactly what he wanted.

--

Taglist: @kr804573 @nancymcl @suckitands33 @mostlymarvelgirl @globetrotter28 @jackles010378 @hobby27 @winchesterwild78 @deans-baby-momma @soab1967 @livingdeadblondequeen @ladysparkles78 @whimsyfinny @kamisobsessed @jays-bonnie-on-the-side @ferrersbiggestfan @spxideyver @kamisobsessed @deans-queen @yvonneeeee @libby99hb

[yandere-romanticaa]

🍂 tear you apart.

❝ i want to hold you close, soft breasts, beating heart. as i whisper in your ear - i want to fucking tear you apart. ❞

yandere! various! ghostface! characters x gn! reader.

inspired by the song "tear you apart" by she wants revenge.

just a compilation of characters that i think would be interesting for this. happy friday the 13th!

𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐄 ! (genshin impact.)

After years of training and endless carnage, it's only natural for a person to develop specific tastes for the darker aspects of life. Battle and blood were Childe's bread and butter but due to his friendly and frankly charming exterior no one could tell that the young man was a ruthless killer.

Provided that he hides his Harbinger status that is.

There were times when his status was a hastle but there were always some perks, always some string for him to pull and make everything go in the way he wanted them to go. Sometimes, that would include people.

But now, that included you.

Upon first meeting him there was an addictive and boyish charm to the ginger haired man and he had you completely wrapped around his fingers. His pockets were deep but so was his heart and frankly, how dare you just steal it? How dare you be so careless? Don't get him wrong, he wasn't mad per say but he still wanted to teach you a lesson or two, just to make it all stick to your feeble little mind.

He started with your neighbors first.

Childe watches comfortably from high above, hidden away in a tea shop as natives of Liyue Harbor scamper back to their homes as darkness nears. A serial killer is on the loose and the shop owner in which Childe was in had no idea that he just served the man responsible for the deaths of 3 different families. He sipped his tea with content, his heart pounding with excitement. The blade in his pocket was itching for its next victim but he had to be patient.

Patience was a virtue after all.

And once he was done, he was going to claim his prize.

In the meantime, he was going to be nothing less than a sweet and doting friend who was just worried for you. It was only a matter of time when you would fall into his greedy hands and you didn't even know it.

𝐍𝐈𝐊𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐈 𝐆𝐎𝐆𝐎𝐋 ! (bungo stray dogs.)

Meeting him was not by choice but you were bound by fate, or so the clown liked to tease.

He stopped you on the street in order to show you a card trick. It was simple but it did the job, he impressed you even if just barely. You'd sigh and turn your head but Nikolai did not fail to see the blush on your cheeks.

He was a man on a mission. Why not indulge himself, just for a little bit?

The public always was fond of a good show and why not give them one in the form of a crazy mass murderer? Donning on a mask and a long black cape his escapade began, his ability was so useful for this.

However, you were always his favorite target.

It started out small, at first. He would use his ability to touch you and to steal your things, particularly if he knew you were alone at home. Seeing that confused expression on your face became a past time of his. His fingers would brush against your cheeks, his touch barely there, like a wandering phantom. Sometimes he would be bolder and press his hand gently against your ribs, maybe even be cheeky and smack your behind ever so playfully.

After a few weeks of this song and dance, watching wasn't enough.

You answered his first call, which pleased him greatly. He gave you impossible riddles and forced you to answer humiliating and degrading questions, all under the threat that he was in your house and was going to kill you lest you complied.

Of course, he had no intentions of doing that. Perhaps he would one day. But for now, he would continue to paint the streets crimson with blood and make you squirm in your seat.

It became his reason for living.

𝐊𝐀𝐅𝐊𝐀 & 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐄 ! (honkai star rail.)

Ah, these two psychos. Where do I start?

Their plans are at first glance, all over the place. Attacks are random and they do not necessarily always go for the big fish too. Sometimes it's a poor street vendor who was just doing their job but his life meant nothing in the end.

Kafka was the main mastermind. Blade was the one who did most of the dirty work.

Her plans were meticulous, deadly. She would come crawling to you from the shadows, her jacket draped over your shoulders as she'd coo into your ear, her face bloody from her latest victim as she toyed with her mask, a carefree smile on her face. You couldn't see him but Blade was also behind you, his presence was impossible to miss. He was large and imposing, like a phantom that couldn't find peace.

Could you perhaps give him something that he couldn't have? If he can't have you in life, can he have you in death?

There was no escaping them, never ever. Dare to try and there would be consequences.

They were so in love with you to the point of madness. The question was - were they going to keep you alive and leashed or were they just that insane to stab you in the heart?

If they can't have you, no one can.

𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐘 ! (Moriarty the Patriot.)

The streets of London are filled to the brim with gossip and paranoia as the Lord of Crime made his move the previous evening, slaughtering yet another poor noble in his family home. The papers reported that his own children found the corpse, the poor little things.

You hurried to show William the morning paper, morbidly curious about his opinion on this.

Said man could be found lounging about in a cushy, plush red love seat, a hot cup of tea served in front of him by none other than his brother. The two were lost in their own chatter until you abruptly stopped them. Like a sudden storm you pounced on William, his red eyes widening in shock as he tried to calm you down with a sweet smile on his face. You bombarded him with endless questions - who could do something like this, why was it this messy, was the killer sending a message? - all of it came out at such lightning speed that William didn't really understand half of what you said.

It was wrong to corner him like this and let out your frustrations on the man this early in the morning. You knew every single person that died in these past few weeks, all of which were either minor annoyances or massive obstacles in your day to day life.

When it came down to it, their only connection was with you.

Was the police going to come knocking at your door? It was possible! You had no involvement with the crimes but it was incredibly suspicious how everything was connected, like a spiderweb that was being crafted day by day.

It was difficult for William to keep his smirk concealed that morning.

Hours had passed since that interaction and he was back at it, his new victim. He incorporated the fact that you were most likely going to be incriminated in this scheme but it was still in his best interest. It was not difficult to tamper with evidence and blackmail people if need be and best of all, you would always come running to him, scared and worried, for both yourself and the people around you. It was beyond precious how you tell him to not go after sun down, how you made sure to check to see if he was injured or ill.

If you kept doting him like this, he might just slit the throat of every single person that steps foot into London.

[tangerinesilk]

BACK UP PLAN • TANGERINE x FEM!READER

they think you’re the diesel, but you know who took the case. too bad for you that tangerine, a guy from your past, likes to shoot first and ask questions later. as fun as that is, you quickly team up to figure out who took the case and what terrible fate they’ll meet... and of course, rehash your complicated past.

rating ✷ r (18+ only, minors dni!)

tropes ✷ enemies to lovers (but still enemies), pwp, cheeky banter, loud gf/quiet bf, butchered british slang, kind of mr. and mrs. smith energy, two idiots with one task

warnings ✷ cursing, violence being the answer, guns & knives, switch!tan x switch!reader, bathroom sex, fingering, quick p in v, lots of begging, exhibitionism, mention of hands/rings (my kink lmao)

word count ✷ 3.7k

a/n ✷ my first tangerine fic :D just feeding into my fixation and going down the aaron johnson rabbit hole again. wasn't expecting to do some bullet train writing, but..... here it is. there will be no part 2! hope y'all like it and feedback is always welcomed!

Shit was going down and surprisingly, it was not by your doing.

With your back pressed against the wall of the luggage holding, you could only hope the short but thick curtain covered your figure enough that anyone who passed wouldn’t see you. As you attempt to keep your breathing low and quiet, it hitches when you hear the sudden sound of automatic door opening.

“We need to find the cheeky fucker who took our case. Swear to God, I’ll bash his head in when I find him.”

That’s a thick accent you don’t forget. You don’t want to peak, but you can see the West Ham sticker on the back of his phone. 

It can’t be him. No, no…

“Lemon, I’ve gone up and down this train for the umpteenth time. I’m ‘bout ready to shoot any sleazy bellend who looks at me funny.”

Tangerine?

He was the only person you’ve been able to outrun yet here he was, only a few inches away and knowing damn well he would know how to tear into you for what happened in Copenhagen. Long story short, it ended with you tossing his favorite gun into the river and it’s made an even bigger target on your back.

While you do wear a mask that seals your identity during your heists, you prayed he didn’t remember eyes since you lost your only form of disguise when fighting the Prince. Just like you, she uses her looks to her gains, able to manipulate anyone by batting her eyelashes. She was the one with the case, and knowing her past, she’d blame it on someone else and you were most likely high up on the list.

“Alright, then. Let’s keep lookin’ for the bastard.” He said before hanging up.

You cover your mouth, your glare remaining steady on him before he takes a pause. His blue eyes search around the cart, huffing until you hear the other automatic door open. You fully step out of the small luggage spot and catching your breath, “I have to get off here.”

As the next stop was coming to a halt, a force pulled you back into the bathroom from an arm snaking around your waist. You couldn’t even gather your thoughts before feeling a cool metal pressing against your temple.

“Now I can only think of two reasons a girl like yourself is hiding behind a bunch of suitcases. One, she’s got a bit of a dickhead of a boyfriend or two, she’s got my fuckin’ case.”

You smirked, “If I had it, I would have hid better, don’t you think?” You hoped to fool him.

“Oh, darling. You think I’m that stupid, why don’t you just–” He turned you around to look into your eyes, and unfortunately, he had seen them somewhere, “Oi, where have I seen you before?”

“I’ve never met you before in my life, now if you’ll excuse me…” You trailed before he shifted to stand in front of the doorway, placing his gun on the sink counter.

“As much as I’d like to believe that, darling... you’re not going’ anywhere until I get my answer.” He said with an assertive tone, his jaw obviously clenched and his eyes piercing blue.

With his one hand on the trim of the sink and the other against the wall, he towered over you with his tall stance. He acted intimidating but you knew deep down there was hidden softness to his personality. ‘Warmer the closer you got’ type of shit.

Your eyes shifted from his eyes to his chest, hard to not stare with his first button undone and gold chain disappearing into his shirt. Able to display a poker face, Tangerine was still racking his brain around where he had seen those eyes before. He couldn’t place the last time he saw such a color.

I guess what you failed to mention is that something else happened in Copenhagen. To summarize, it involved a skin tight dress, a hotel key card and a getaway plan by dawn. What threw him off now was that you weren’t sporting the same short, auburn wig you sported that night you tried to get his attention.

“How am I supposed to give you an answer that I don’t have? You’re in my way.” You protest.

“And you’re not a very good liar, are ya?” He huffed, “Now, if you don’t have my case then who does?”

Not giving a second more, you pulled out your own gun tucked in the waist of your skirt, pushing it against his bare chest, “I think you better stay out of the way before you really get hurt.”

He didn’t bat an eye, but his eyes took a second glance at the tattoos drawn on the side of your middle finger and the top of your knuckles. Suddenly, he placed those hands from memory and the image of them running down his chest struck his mind. He looked back into your eyes and remembered how they kept steady contact as your tongue glided down his body.

“It’s been a while since Copenhagen, yeah?” He said, clenching his jaw once more.

Shit. Maybe you shouldn’t have doubted him so much.

“Well you’re not fooling me this time.” He grunted, quickly taking your gun while your guard was down for a split second, “I’ll give you one last chance, love. Tell me where the case is and maybe, I’ll be and gentleman and just escort you off at the next stop.”

“So cute how you’re trying to threaten me yet use a pet name. Guess I just know how to get to your soft spot, Tan.” You grinned, placing your hand on his cheek.

Mesmerized, a gloss smooths over his eyes before his phone vibrates in his pants pocket.

“Do you wanna get that or have me reach in there?” You taunted.

He replied with an eye roll, but quickly answered. “Yeah, what?” Tangerine answered, his eyebrow cocked.

A low voice told him that they needed to see proof of the case at the next stop or things could go south. Tangerine quickly hangs up during mid-threat, and you twist your lips.

“Since you can’t find your case, I assume you’re the one getting off at the next station.” You smirked, “Glad we got to catch up.”

“No, no, you little pain in my ass. You’re gonna put on a nice smile for these massive dickheads and stall with me…” He tilted his head a bit, “As far as I know, you know where the case is so I’ll be attached by the hip to you for the rest of the lovely ride to Kyoto.” Tangerine yammered on.

You rolled your eyes but he held your chin, making you look him in the eyes, “I’m sorry, does that bother you now?”

“Hmm, no. Just kind of sweet to know you haven’t forgotten about me.” You purposefully teased, your palm running down his chest before opening another button of his shirt with your one hand. It was a tactic to get under his skin, hoping to get some sort of reaction.

“You’re some tease who left me in Copenhagen, I’ve dealt with shots to the fuckin’ chest. You really think highly of yourself, don't ya.” He deflects but glances at your soft lips. 

You grinned, placing your hand on his cheek, “I don’t think I have to remind you of how low I’ll stoop to get a job done… or kneel.”

Tangerine felt your hand moving through the back of his hair, carding his loose curls before pressing your foreheads together. The tip of your nose brushed against his, your lips barely touching until the train came to a slow stop.

“Well, I guess it’s time to put on a good fucking act.” You huffed, pulling away and Tangerine didn’t realize he forgot to take a breath.

♡ ♡ ♡

He turned around, opening the bathroom door in one swift motion and the two of you stood by the exit. After quickly texting Lemon that he was going to stall, he gives you a look again– this time, his eyes shifting up and down your body, noticing the tear in your stockings. He knew you were up to something, but resisting the urge to press you up against a wall was making him ache a bit.

As the train door opened, Tangerine took a step toward you, “If anything goes down, you get behind me and get back on. Other than that, follow my lead.”

You nodded, “I have limited options… how generous of you.”

The two of you step off the train, and looking around for the men you’re asked to meet. As passengers got on and off, there was a small group that came your way and you stood next to Tangerine as they got closer.

“Where’s the case?” The tall one asked, standing center of the three other men.

“Lemon is keeping it safe right now.”

“Then who’s this?” 

Tangerine glanced at you, shrugging, “I’m a professional, I’ve got my back up… Peach.”

You wanted to narrow your eyes at him with a burning stare, but you maintained your composure to convince them. It was one step closer to getting the case, and it wasn’t the worse operative name.

The four men chuckle at it, and you cross your arms from the reaction, “So, are we done here?” You asked, “We’ve obviously got places to be now since your boss is up our asses about his case.” 

At first, they replied with scowls until Tangerine took a step in front of you, your chest basically touching his back.

“‘Cuse her attitude, it’s been a long night.” Tangerine acted as if he were in charge of you, “But, we’re all good now. The plan is still Kyoto, ta-ra now.” He faked a grin, pushing you toward the door as the alert sounded for boarding.

Before you knew it, the train was moving and the both of you plopped into two empty seats in the quiet car. As you watched Tangerine type out a text to Lemon, you scoffed, crossing your arms as you faced the window out to the city life of Japan.

♡ ♡ ♡

“Well, Lemon still hasn’t found the person with the case… fucker could have gotten off without us knowing.” 

You turned your head, “So, that’s means I’m off the list of the accused?”

“...I just don’t trust you.” He trailed, slipping his phone back into his pants pocket.

“Aw, still a little hurt from our last encounter?” You pouted, “Didn’t take you for such a softie, Tan.”

Tangerine clenched his jaw. He had little patience for your sass, but it was fun to fuck with him. You gently placed your hand on the top of his thigh, hidden under the table, and refused to lose eye contact with him. There were four stops left so, it was time to put a spontaneous plan B into motion: make him let his guard down for you.

You batted your eyelashes, “Tell me, do you still think about our night together? I didn’t mean to leave so quickly, but we had something… yeah?” You taunted him, your hand moving up his thigh. Just as your fingers were going to unbutton his pants, Tangerine quickly grabbed your wrist and put it back on his knee.

“You wanna play games, darling?” He grunted, “Then, I’ll play your game.”

You couldn’t help but admit that your heart beat against your chest, like the air in the cart had been sucked away and before you knew it, his right hand was running up your thigh until he ripped the rest of your stocking. You almost gasped, not wanting to attract attention, but he pulled it enough where your panties were exposed.

“Don’t get shy on me now, love.” Tangerine said under his breath as his hand entering between your legs. Once he pushed the black lace to the side, his two thick fingers entered your slit. The hand you had on his thigh suddenly met the wrist of his hand working your pussy.

His blue eyes softened, feeling how wet you already were and how you tried to restrain from arching your back against the seat. Being in plain light, you bit your bottom lip and concentrated on the scene passing by– obviously, not easy to focus on when Tangerine is gliding his fingers in and out of your wet slit. You could scream, knowing how deep they were from feeling his cool rings against your skin.

“I’d rub your clit, but I’d hate to make you cum right here… in front of everyone.” He looked around, as if he weren’t edging you, “You don’t really deserve to anyways.”

You took one big gulp, your hand gripping the arm rest now and you let him keep going. For as long as he wanted to and however fast he wanted to. As big of a talk you made, you were suddenly puddy in his hands– quite literally– and God, you didn’t want him to stop.

He pressed his lips against your ear, “Are you close?”

“Hmm.” You could barely let out a word, “N-no.”

“Don’t lie to me now so you can cum.” He chuckled.

Just like that, he quickly pulled his hand away and he saw how his fingers were coated in your glistening cum. As he went to place them in his mouth, you pulled his wrist and tasted your own cum on your tongue. 

All he could think was, “Fuck, her tongue is soft…” and reminisce the memory of his dick pushing down your throat.

You kissed his fingers before setting his hand back on his lap, and he watched you pant. Such a beautiful mess, he thought again.

Pushing your skirt back down, you crossed your legs as you ran your fingers through your hair. “You fucking ripped my nice tights…” You huffed, pulling the band from the waist and pulling them down your legs. You balled them up as you put your shoes back on, and stuffed them between the wall of the train and the seat.

You blew a breath past your lips, “Alright, that was fun but I gotta go.” You gulped, attempting to get up but he pushed your leg back down so you basically say back down.

“You’re stayin’ right here.” He said, not looking at you but around the cart, “Because the next stop, you’re gettin’ off… not like how you did right now but-”

You cut him off, “What?” You scoffed, your cheeks feeling heated, “No, I’m not getting off this train until I have the case!”

You didn’t mean to spill your own secret, but your guard had been put down. Shit.

He smirked, “See, I knew you had somethin’ to do with the case. Now you’re definitely gettin’ off at the next stop or I’ll-”

Cut off again, he sees Lemon walking down, also without the case in hand, and Tangerine quickly gets up. He met him halfway in the aisle, so you got up to see what was going on and if it was about the case.

“Who’s this? Looks familiar…” Lemon trailed as he pointed at you, then back at Tangerine.

“She’s no one-”

“Actually we passed each other in Copenhagen. You called me an Emily.” You grinned, tilting your head.

“Ah, yes. Emily, very kind but a tad bossy…” Lemon nodded but then narrowed his eyes, “Lookin’ for the case too, yeah?... unless you have it and we’re runnin’ around like headless chickens.” You could see his hand reaching into his jacket.

“I wish. Trust me…” You crossed your arms.

“Yeah, and she was just leaving on the next stop. No business being around here, muckin’ about.” Tangerine said without looking at you again, just making eye contact with Lemon.

“You treat me like I’m incompetent yet I beat both your asses back in Copenhagen and managed to steal the getaway car. Why don’t you two leave and let me handle whoever has the case.” You shoved past Tangerine, “Fucking amateurs.” You muttered under your breath.

Lemon turned around, Tangerine behind him, “She’s definitely is an Emily.”

Tangerine rolled his eyes, “I’ll go get take care of her. You check back down that way.” He clenched his jaw, pushing back his rolled sleeves.

♡ ♡ ♡

The door opened to the first class cart, already imagining your hands wrapped around the Prince’s neck once you had an eye on her. Dim orange lights lit your way, a few people asleep with blankets on top of them. 

Just as you came close to the lounge toward the end, a hand gripped your wrist. Before asking any questions, your other hand quickly swung down on the other’s wrist, thinking it was the Prince, but you were met with another set of bright eyes.

“Let go of me.” You muttered under your breath, not trying to get anyone’s attention.

Like deja vu, Tangerine pulled you into the bathroom and locked the door. It wasn’t as tight as the other passenger bathroom, but still had little room to move around with two people.

“Do I gotta tell you again?” Tan practically growled.

“You can’t tell me what to do. What do you want from me that you keep cornering me like this?” Your tone matched his.

He took a deep breath through his nostrils, and suddenly felt the tension. He couldn’t take his eyes from you, never admitting that he had been thinning about you since Copenhagen, so instead his lips met yours.

You weren’t surprised, but you missed his lips. You bit his bottom lip, your body relaxing as you fell into his arms. Your noses brushed together, foreheads close before you unbuttoned his shirt, your hands meeting his soft skin. It slipped past his toned arms, and he pressed your hips against the sink counter.

As you lifted your leg by his side, he put his hand underneath your knee to keep it high. Tangerine kissed and nipped at your neck after taking your shirt off, tossing it on top of the closed toilet seat. You ran your fingers through his messy curls, gripping them as you shared hungry kisses. His hard pressed against his slacks, rubbing against your inner thigh.

“You’ve got about four minutes, Tan.” You said between kisses, “I don’t know if you’re that fast.”

“You underestimate me, love.” He grunted, “It’s gettin’ a bit old.”

Suddenly, he hiked your skirt and you played along, spreading your legs enough for his body to move between them. He quickly unzipped his pants while his right hand rubbed your wet clit and the left hand against your neck. 

You giggled, biting your bottom lip before slipping the tip of his cock into your pussy. You held back your gasp, giggling instead to get a rise out of him, but it just made him squeeze your neck a bit.

“Almost forgot how big you were.” You pouted, but he thrusted inside of you. You audibly gasped, and kissed his thumb pressed against your bottom lip.

At first he was slow-paced, purposefully making you beg for it. He knew your weak spots yet his head fell against your shoulder, a light whimper escaping his throat remembering how tight your cunt was. He held your leg up again, giving him an angle to work with and his cock bottomed out inside your pussy.

“Fuck!” You croaked, “God, you’re so… big. Stretching me out so good, baby.” You whined.

“Fuckin’ Christ.” Tan cursed, his hips bucking as your skins slapped together. He was eager to make you cum, shattering in his arms and falling apart like he adored. His hand slapped against your ass cheek, kneading it the closer he got. 

You leaned your head back, rolling your eyes back and could see stars, Tangerine practically lifting you off your feet as your walls began to tighten around his hard cock.

“Please… please let me cum.” You begged, your eyes barely open, “I wanna cum. Please.”

“Gotta beg a little more, darling.” He gulped as his pace got faster, not realizing how strong he was, “Keep those pretty eyes lookin’ at me.”

You arched your back, “Ah, please!… I want your fucking cum filling me up. Make me cum all over your cock, baby.” Your pitch elevated, “Fuck, I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna fucking cum!”

He grunted against your shoulder, giving it a small bite before saying, “Cum, cum for me, love.” He lighty gasped but tried to mask it by kissing your shoulder.

Your fingers pulled his messy curls, not able to explain the complete bliss running throughout every vein and nerve in your body. His hand covered your mouth just as yours covered his, muffing your defeated moans when the two of your released inside your pussy.

As you came down from your highs, the two of you let out tired chuckles. His cock was still inside you, feeling your warm walls as he shared one last sloppy kiss. 

Your thumb ran across his cheek, “Better than Copenhagen?”

He half-smiled, “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

♡ ♡ ♡

Ultimately, you agreed to let them take it from there. It was two more stops, and the train was coming to it’s next destination. You and Tangerine stood by the door, watching it slowly open and your stubbornness was eating you up. Although it was a risk to get off the train, seemed there was more than the two of you looking for the case. If anything, you loss some pay.

“You better get off now.” Tangerine told you, the two of you watching people pass.

You hummed, “I know… hope you can tell me how it goes if we ever meet again.” You sighed, placing your hands on his chest. Your eyes met with his, and he furrowed his brows. You twisted your hips, taking a deep breath before quickly meeting your lips with his again. Tender and slow.

 As you pulled your face from his, you nodded, “Bye, Tangerine.”

He expected for you to pass, and he actually thought he was going to miss you.

Instead, you forcefully pushed him out the door and it closed him out from coming back in. You rolled your eyes, walking up to the window as you watched the train pull from the station.

“I really am good.” You smirked.

[weirdsht]

Longing - LoTCF & Molan! Reader

notes: There's so much I want to include here but it's so long already... I might make a part 2. Also I woke up and decided to change the way I address reader lol. I used to use _____ because it was easier to type but I've decided to go for aesthetics now (disillusioned will still have the same format though so readers won't be shocked with the change).

tags: female reader, death, blood, injuries, angst(?), hurt/comfort

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are open and welcome

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[Name] Molan was about to fall asleep when intruders suddenly infiltrated the Molan Estate.

“...Mom I’m scared.”

The 5-year-old clutched her mother’s skirt. Screaming and clashing of weapons can be heard throughout the house.

Her mother said nothing at first. Opting to get her greatsword from underneath the child’s bed first.

“Baby you started learning stealth techniques with your brother right?”

[Name] nodded as she felt her mother squeeze her hand.

“Remember what Dad taught you okay? You might have to use it tonight. Think of it as an exercise to see how well you’ve learned.”

The situation is scary, but despite that [name] feels calm because her mother is smiling at her.

But that doesn’t stop her hand from shaking as she hears their family members’ screams.

Slowly, the mother-daughter duo slithered out of the bedroom. Their main goal is to find Ron and Beacrox before escaping the estate.

Run, hide, roll over, they did everything just to avoid the eyes of the masked people attacking their estate. As they run away corpses of their family members and servants can be seen everywhere they go. The stench of their blood overtook [name]’s senses making her want to puke.

Everything seemed to be going well at first. However, they have been discovered after a few minutes of sneaking around. It was inevitable. With every corner being surrounded by those mysterious people massacring the Molans.

“[NAME]!”

[Name]’s mother just hadn’t expected one of those bastard’s swords to pierce the child’s chest instead.

The Molan Mistress was surrounded. She was trying her best to fend off everyone who dared to hurt her child.

But her efforts weren’t enough.

One of the enemies still managed to slip past her greatsword.

At that moment Beacrox, her first child, entered the room they were in. His eyes were shaking along with his legs as he ran to hide behind her mother.

“Beacrox take care of your sister.”

Her voice was calm. Fitting as the wife of the Molan Patriarch. Her hand tightly clenched on her greatsword. Eyes fierce, their gaze holds a promise of protecting her children.

Meanwhile, Beacrox sat on the ground. His arms cradled his baby sister while also trying to apply pressure to where she was hurt.

“Orabeoni… it hurts… it really hurts…”

“Just hold on a little longer. Father will get here soon.”

Beacrox’s hands are covered in blood. [Name]’s blood. No matter how hard he tries he can’t stop the bleeding. He can’t stop his younger sister’s body from going cold.

“Orabeoni… Orabeoni…”

[Name] tried to lift her small hands, but was too weak to do so. Beacrox shushed her, reassuring her that she’d be fine. That she’ll make it through the night. That they’ll get out of here alive.

She has to. Beacrox doesn’t think he’ll ever be the same if his baby sister dies here.

“I’m scared… Everything hurts.”

Beacrox is scared too. Scared of the copious amounts of blood escaping her little body. Scared of her body slowly becoming colder as the seconds fly by. Scared of her eyes that are slowly fluttering themself close.

“Hey, hey, you can’t sleep yet. We have to wait for Father first okay?”

Despite all of those things, the Molan heir stood strong. He has to. He needs to be strong enough for the two of them.

[Name] tries hard to follow her brother’s orders. However, the task starts to feel impossible to accomplish as time goes on. Sleep tempts her, tells her that if she closes her eyes the pain will disappear.

Her surroundings became more and more hazy and her family's voices grew quieter until she couldn’t hear them anymore. She was fighting to stay awake despite her body desperately shutting down.

“Dad…”

She mumbles as she sees a blur of a person that she thinks she recognizes as her father. 

“It’s okay. Everything is okay now. We’ll get out of here.”

Ron tries to reassure the girl but she can’t hear him anymore. He pressed his fingers on her pulse desperately trying to find one. Once he found it he asked his son to monitor the pulse as he aides his wife.

Bathump

“Baby stay with me. Dad’s here now. Dad will get you out of here.”

Thump

“[Name] you can’t close your eyes. Beacrox try to keep her eyes open!”

thump

“Mom! Dad! I- I can’t! I can barely feel her pulse. She’s also not breathing anymore!”

…thump

“Run. I’ll handle it here. Go with your father!”

“But what about [name]???”

“...It’s too late for her…”

…thum…

…

Only then did Beacrox let go of [name]’s wrist. Even after removing his hand, he felt like he could still hear it.

Her last pulse.

The feeling of it lingered in Beacrox’s hand. He clenches and lets go of his hand, but still…

Still, he could feel it.

Even as he runs away while looking at his father’s back. Even decades later when his serving the Henituse family as a chef. 

That feeling never goes away.

Meanwhile, the one left at the Molan Estate is still fighting. Desperately fighting the intruders with all her might.

She knows she’s outnumbered. She knows that she will die at their hands. She knows she has no fighting chance.

But still, she fights.

In hopes of buying her husband and her son time. In hopes of letting them escape and live to see another day.

And as she expected, she didn’t last long. After a few minutes of swinging her greatsword, he had finally succumbed to her wounds. Her body fell on the ground of what used to be their home. Of what used to be a safe space for her and her family.

Luckily, they left her alone after that. Figuring that she’ll die on her own either way. It gave her a chance to crawl over to her daughter. Gave her the chance to hug her one last time before her inevitable doom.

[Name]’s body was still bleeding. It had slowed down considerably thanks to Beacrox’s efforts but it was still bleeding. But her mother didn’t mind. She didn’t mind the puddle of blood gathering underneath her daughter’s body.

She just wants to hug her child one last time.

That’s why she ignored everything. The sticky blood, [name]’s cold body, her own ragged breathing. She ignored all of it and imagined that they were back in her daughter’s room. That she’s just hugging her daughter to sleep after telling her a bedtime story.

…thump

Ron’s wife wasn’t sure if she heard that right.

…thump …thump

She pressed her ears closer to [name]’s heart and heard the faintest of pulse. It was almost nonexistent. 

But it meant that there was still hope for her daughter.

Gathering her strength. She draped over her body on top of her daughter. This effectively hid her and put pressure on her wound.

She didn’t know if her daughter would survive. But she knows that she won't. This is her last ditch effort to make her daughter live. The only thing she can do with her dying body.

Kissing the crown of her sweet baby’s head for one last time, she let her body finally succumb to its wounds after fighting for so long.

Gasp!

[Name] gasped awake from her sleep as she dreamed of that night again. It’s been a few years since then. She has somehow managed to escape with her limited stealth skills at that time. Managed to go outside the borders of the Molden Kingdom in order to live.

For the first few years, she had to live on the streets. It was a sudden change. From having her own room and servants to barely eating one day a meal. But still, she persevered. It’s what her mother would have wanted.

She has nothing on her except the clothes on her back. She can’t even use her real name anymore for fear that someone will recognize it. 

However, she did have her father’s teachings.

It may not have been much as she was just starting out before their family fell apart. But she still practised them every chance she got. Tries to expand what she knows by remembering what she has read and her experience while living on the streets.

“You’re already taking another job? Go out and play or something! You’re too young to be taking job after job!”

Her hard work paid off in the form of her being a mercenary. She used her skills and wits to qualify for such a dangerous job. In turn, she became a full pledge mercenary at the young age of 12.

Every mission was life-threatening. She never knows if a mission is going to be her last one. But it puts a roof over her head and a warm meal on her plate.

“Nalom, why do you take so many jobs? You already have enough money to last you for at least 3 months.”

One of the mercenaries ruffled her hair but she ignored it. Focusing her attention on the name she was called.

Nalom…

The opposite of Molan.

Cheesy. She knows it was cheesy to make her alias just the reverse spelling of her last name. But she feels like she will inevitably forget her real name if she doesn’t do it.

She might have lost everything that night but she promised herself that she’ll take revenge one day. It doesn’t matter how long it takes, she will get it done.

Hence why she takes job after job. Honing her skills and pushing her limits. Trying to discreetly sniff out any information about the secret organization that attacked the Molans.

“Bud I heard we’re going on a war with Arm?“

The now 27-year-old [name] sneaked behind Bud.

“Nalom! How many times do I have to keep telling you that you’ll give me a heart attack if you keep sneaking up on me like that?”

[Name] ignored the Mercenary King holding onto his chest as she waited for an answer.

“Yes, the veterans will attack their secret base in a few days.”

“I’m included right?”

Bud Illis looks at her as if she’s joking.

“Of course you are. You’ve been here for 15 years. There’s no way you’re not a veteran.”

Good.

That way she’ll finally get her revenge.

“By the way. Is the investigation about our first base done yet?”

[Name] could see Bud’s shoulder tense at the question. She honestly didn’t care much. It was devastating that it had been blown up and the directory is now gone but it’s not like anyone from their side died. So it’s not her problem.

Well at first at least.

Until she heard the rumours that the one who attacked the directory was Molan’s last patriarch.

“Not yet. I wasn’t there when it happened and we’re putting all our efforts into the upcoming attack that’s why the investigation is taking longer.”

She could sense that Bud was only telling half the truth but she let it go.

“Say Nalom, did you learn your stealth techniques from someone?“

The Mercenary King asked just as she was about to go out of his office.

“No, I learned during my time living on the streets.”

A half-life. It was only fair since Bud also lied to her.

With that [name] closed the door behind her making her unable to hear the conversation that happened in her absence.

“Her techniques feel similar to Patriarch-nim…”

Bud mumbled under his breath once the stealthy mercenary was gone.

“It’s different but their foundations are similar.”

Glenn agreed from the couch. Both of them wondered if there was a chance that Nalom was somehow connected to the Molans.

“Where’s the kid?”

One of the mercenaries asked as they prepared to attack Arm’s secret base.

“I don’t know, you know how Nalom is. I’m sure she’ll be fine.”

Another mercenary reassured the guy.

“Nalom? Who’s that?”

Cale asked Bud who was also trying to look for the missing mercenary.

“She’s our youngest veteran, only 27-years-old. But she’s the best among the mercenaries when it comes to stealth.”

Bud checked one last corner before sighing and giving up.

“She was here just a second ago… Well, it’s not like she can’t handle herself. But she has never gone on her own during large-scale attacks.”

The Mercenary King decided to trust the missing mercenary and continued with the original plan.

“Who goes there!?”

Beacrox hears a familiar yet foreign voice ask him as he dodges a flying dagger.

“I should be the one asking you…”

Brown hair that was the same shade as his own greeted him. Her one hand preparing to throw another dagger while her other hand was clutching on a flag that had been drawn on.

22 years. It has been 22 years since he last saw his little sister. His last memory of her was her body growing colder in his arms as he felt her pulse slowly stop.

Even today he could still feel her pulse linger in his hands.

“[Name].”

Beacrox called out. If only he knew that it was the first time in 22 years since anyone had called [name] by that name. 

He could see the mercenary stop in her tracks. Her arm lowered as she processed his voice and the name he called her.

“Orabeoni?”

She asked and Beacrox nodded. Yes, it’s him. It’s her orabeoni. 

[Name] slowly walked towards him. Her steps slow and staggering. Almost falling in his arms once she was close enough.

“It’s you. It’s really you. You’re alive.”

She cried in Beacrox's arms and for one he didn’t mind that his clothes were being tainted. He’ll take as much dirt as he needs as long as he can hug his sister in his arms.

Bathump. Bathump.

Instinctively his hand reached out to her wrist. The same wrist he held onto that night. But unlike that time, her pulse is loud and clear. Full of vitality.

Alive

“What’s taking you so long? I thought you were going to check out who was sneaking around your sister’s room?”

Ron’s voice echoed through the halls as he walked closer to where the siblings were.

“Dad’s alive? It was really Dad who blew up the first mercenary base?”

[Name] heard her brother hummed in affirmation. His chest vibrates against her cheek as they are still hugging each other.

Ron’s footsteps were silent but [name] could sense that he was close. Letting go of the hug, she stepped outside of her room to greet him.

They didn’t say anything. They don’t need to. 

For Ron will be able to recognize his daughter anywhere.

That’s why he didn’t say anything and just accepted his running daughter with open arms. Hugging her tightly, as if trying to make up for the two decades they have been apart.

“Dad I was so lonely. I was so scared.”

She confided in her dad. The veteran mercenary who’s the best in stealth and wields double daggers is gone. In the arms of her dad, she’s simply [Name] Molan. She’s just the daughter he loves. 

The daughter he thought he lost.

“It’s fine now. Everything is fine. You can tell your dad everything that happened.”

Ron stroked his daughter’s hair. His hands shaking ever so slightly.

Tears gathered in his eyes but only Beacrox noticed them. 

The chef said nothing about his father’s vulnerability. He stayed silent even when a lone tear managed to escape his father’s eyes.

His strong father. The same one who bulldozed through everything just to keep him alive. The same father who worked hard to train him while discreetly investigating the organization that attacked them. His father showed no weakness.

That same father of his has been overcome by emotion.

And Beacrox can’t say anything about it for he was the same.

[procyonloser]

Adam stood over some nothing overlord, horns recently shined, robes freshly washed - fuck, he loved extermination day. He lifted a pointed finger at her face, ready to turn it to ash, along with the block behind her.

"Wait, wait, wait!" The overlord held up her hands, all three, she'd lost one already. "I...I have powers! Isn't there anyone you want to get even with? To get revenge on?"

Adam paused, thinking on it. "Yeah, so? What about it?"

"I can-" she sat up on her knees. "My power let's me swap two being's minds, just for a day. You could humiliate someone by switching an elite's mind with a rat. You could get revenge on a cheating-"

Adam lifted the overlord up by her hair, until her feet were dangling off the ground, meeting her eyes. A grin curled over his mask, and the overlord exhaled out a squeak.

"Let's go have a chat."

Adam's plan was simple. Switch places with Lilith, invite some guys over, and get Lucifer to find his wife with other men. He thought about switching with Lucifer, but the overlord said it wouldn't work with him, because he wasn't the first to want to take the King of Hell's body for a day. She wasn't sure it would work for Lilith either, but the closer they'd been the easier is worked, and Adam had literally been inside her at one point, so that seemed good enough.

Plus, Adam was dying to see Lucifer's broken expression when he found out his beloved wife was "cheating" on him. Sucks to suck.

"Okay," the overlord said shakily, holding a picture of Lilith from one of her concerts on it. She looked up at Adam, and bobbed her head. "I'm ready if you are uh...sir?"

Good girl, Adam thought to himself, this overlord could stay alive for at least this year.

"Do it. I'm ready to make that fucker cry."

The feeling was disorienting, going from one place to the next, as suddenly as blinking. It was like being plunged into the deep end of a pool, because your eyes struggle to understand what's around you at first, your nose burns because the new scents assault your senses in a wave. The physical sensation took awhile to understand as well, partly because it wasn't something Adam had ever personally experienced.

Adam's first thought was, holy shit, tits - Lilith's were on display, bare as they were in Eden, except he wasn't used to seeing them like this, as though the were his own. Adam's second thought was, wait, why is she naked? His third thought was, wait, what's that feeling?

"Lily," Lucifer breathed out above him, and Adam felt ants crawling down his spine, as the push and pull sensation became familiar. Lucifer's hands were at his - her waist, and...

Adam stared down to where pale thighs were spread, a bed of pale blond hair not doing much to hide the size of the cock impaling him. In and out, the bed was creaking, and Lucifer's horns and tail were out.

They were fucking?! What kind of married couple still fucked after the first year, let alone after the first thousand?!

Lucifer adjusted slightly, and it hit a new place in Adam, or Lilith, whichever, and Adam let out a moan not in his own voice. Lucifer looked encouraged, wrapping his arms around his waist, and pulling him in closer so he could fuck him all the harder.

Adam was losing his mind, fingers gripping into the blankets instinctively. He wanted Lucifer to stop and get the fuck off of him, but all that happened when he opened his mouth was moans and whimpers of pleasure. He was not feeling good from this, he wasn't, he couldn't! But, a long tongue wrapped around one of his nipples, before taking it between sharp teeth. Adam choked on a sob, looking down at Lucifer's head as he played with him.

"Luci...lucifer-" Adam got out, reaching a hand down to Lucifer's shoulder, but he didn't have the strength to push him away. His body was so over sensitized, if he moved, he thought he might cum.

Lucifer looked up at him and grinned sharply. "Oh, Lily, you want that, don't you? You know I'll do anything for you, my love."

Lucifer pulled out very slowly, cock covered in wet, and Adam felt his body leaking - he didn't think this was the first time they'd had sex today. Adam shook as he watched, close to an orgasm, closer to crying. Why was Lucifer's dick so big?

Lucifer smiled and said, "abracadabra!"

Another cock grew out from his body above the first one, just as hard and reddened at the head, pale blue purple veins running down the length of it.

"I'll always give you want you need, Lily." Lucifer said lowly, lining himself up. "You're my good girl, aren't you?"

After their bodies switched back, Adam found a phone number written on his hand in familiar handwriting. Tentatively, he called it.

"So," Lilith's voice came over the line. "Did you enjoy it?"

Adam stared at the wall.

"Yes."

[melbatron5000]

Two Crowleys

A while ago, the wonderful mind of @noneorother posted this meta about the puppets in the magic shop.

The observation that there appear to be two Crowleys in the shot of the puppet arrangement had me absolutely scratching my head and thinking they must be mistaken somehow.

(pic from @noneorother)

But then I got my hands on some of the Amazon X-ray extras, and discovered these little gems from the album covers in Maggie's record shop:

Now, going back to our color-coding for a moment, we may not know what all the colors in Good Omens mean, and we may not have all the colors down. But we do know a few, and we know that color-coding in Good Omens does exist, and that it matters.

Auburn and vavoom yellow are Crowley's colors. They are the colors of his hair and eyes. Black and scarlet red are the colors he wears. So those four colors are Crowley-coded colors. Okay.

Thus, these two record albums from Maggie's shop are Crowley-colored. Now, notice something important? Well, two things. The first -- Raga Koboj has TWO little sharp-clawed critters peering out at us from behind blinds. I daresay they are meant to be little cartoon demons, yes? And CT Bazz: Dank Balaclava features a face in a red ski mask. People usually wear ski masks if A. it's cold as tits outside, or B. if they're trying to hide their identity. So both albums feature Crowley colors AND images of hiding -- plus one features an image of twinsies.

The other important thing takes us back to color-coding. What other color do we see here besides our well-known Crowley colors? On Raga Koboj, the auburn and vavoom yellow blend into each other -- creating orange between them. And Dank Balaclava features a cigarette being lit -- with a little flair of orange fire.

(Edit to add: The name of that first album is Raga Koboj, which is a style of Indian music. A very famous tale in India is of the Warrior Goddess Kahli fighting demons who kept replicating themselves. Every time a drop of blood would hit the ground, a new demon would spring up. She went on a rampage trying to destroy them all, and her husband had to throw himself in her path to stop her. Hmm . . .)

This leads me to believe two things: Yes, TWO Crowleys. One Crowley in hiding, the other a twin. And that orange is Crowley's secret color.

Where else do we see orange?

Yep, the pillars in Aziraphale's shop. Which we also know is painted Crowley Auburn on the outside and Vavoom Yellow on the inside. With accents of this nice saffron orange on the pillars.

Want more proof? Okay.

Several people have noted that Aziraphale and Crowley keep to each other's right and left, respectively. Aziraphale on the right, Crowley on the left. In season 1, whenever they are on the opposite sides of each other, something's up. Not wrong, necessarily, but not in proper order. As in the image-swap/body-swap. Several people have also noted that Crowley is on Aziraphale's right far more frequently in season 2. And look here:

Aziraphale looks instinctively to his left when Crowley approaches -- only this Crowley, the twin, is not approaching on Aziraphale's left. This happens in more than one scene.

And when Aziraphale introduces Crowley to Nina in the coffee shop in episode one, he says, "This is, um, Crowley." As if he's quickly deciding how to name this individual who looks like his demon but approached on his right. Aziraphale "ums" and hesitates a lot this season, but he's also lying a lot. Hesitation and "um" is one of his tells.

I believe Aziraphale knows this isn't Crowley 1.0. But he acts and talks to this Crowley as if it's Crowley 1.0, so I don't think it's an imposter or someone pretending to be Crowley who isn't. I think Crowley's split himself in two. Am I sure about that? No. But it's where I'm leaning at this moment.

But Crowley 1.0 isn't missing entirely. Look here:

Aziraphale is looking over his left shoulder for his demon, and Crowley's right there, where he should be.

So yeah, TWO Crowleys.

Now where the heck is Crowley while his twin is out walking around on Aziraphale's right side? I really don't know what he might be up to, but I think he's in contact. Reachable, at least.

Let's look at this one again. Who's this?

No, not the guy in the foreground. The guy in the back. No, not the dude wearing tartan, the other guy. The guy in front of the ORANGE pillar, the guy on Crowley-twin's LEFT shoulder.

Is that Crowley 1.0? Or at least, a way for Crowley to be in touch while he's off doing whatever the heck he's doing? I think it is.

Would you like some more proof?

Okay. How about another record album from Maggie's shop?

Back to color-coding again. That baby-blue/red combo seems to indicate Crowley and Aziraphale's relationship together. The baby-blue is the color of Aziraphale's shirt, while the red is one that Crowley wears, mostly around his neck, although it also appears elsewhere in his costuming.

Au Revoir, Fingers! Crowley's just a head now. But a head has ears and eyes, so Aziraphale can communicate with it. As I suspect he tries to here, before Jim interrupts:

But wait. Back to Au Revoir Fingers for a moment. Red Eye Smile?

And red eyes? Fuck me.

A very few people have pointed out that there are lots of dual red taillights in multiple shots, frequently framed rather carefully. I had dismissed it, as I usually do when something turns out to be freaking important.

Someone's watching. I think it might be Crowley 1.0.

Then there's that bit where he's driving back to Whickber street, after coming back from Hell, and he first zooms around a bus with red taillights and says, "There's only room for one of us in this lane and it's not you," then he changes a pair of red stop lights to green and says "Don't you even think about it. There, that's better." Is he arguing with himself?? Telling the Other Crowley that it's his turn right now, not his? Of course I can't find a GIF or picture of that right now, but you know what I mean, right? Neil had to cut a bunch of material out of the finished show to fit Amazon's time limit requirements. That scene would seem to be an easy cut to make -- unless the scene matters to the overall plot too much to cut.

I also suspect that Crowley might be talking to himself in the book shop at the end of season 2. You know, when he turns Aziraphale's chair around to face the right way, but when Maggie and Nina come in it's facing the center of the room again? I suspect Crowley 1.0 and 2.0 had a chat. I do not know about what. Just sharing information?

I also wonder if Crowley 2.0 might have his own POV scenes -- thus confusing the already complicated POV situation even more. The white head statue sure gets several shots where it's in center frame, as if it is the POV character in that scene.

That's what I got, my fellow brain rotters. There's my evidence.

In conclusion: Two Crowleys. Yeah, I think so. Now, for the big question:

WHY???

What is Crowley doing that there needs to be two of him? And is it just twinsies, or is that someone else pretending to be Crowley and I'm wrong? Aziraphale definitely seems to know that's NOT his original Crowley, but tells the demon important information without hesitation, so I'm still suspecting Crowley twinned himself. But what if I'm wrong? Who is it then? And why are they pretending to be Crowley? And why does Aziraphale seem to know it's not Crowley, but still talk to him like it is?

I have no answers.

Thanks for crackpotting and going nuts with me, yet again. I hope this keeps you up at night like it's done me.

[rafesapologist]

the set up — rafe cameron; part twenty one

summary: you've been one of the pogues since childhood, and your loyalty has always lied within your friend group, who is practically your family. when a threat by the name of rafe cameron begins to threaten the pogue's plans, they assign you to gain the trust of the dubious kook and keep an eye on what he's up to. however, now it's been six months since your friends set you up to spy on the kook prince himself, but what you didn't anticipate was to fall head over heels for the boy. your relationship had soon become inviolable shortly after your guys' first exchanges, much to your friends' dismay, and you two became practically inseperable. that was, until rafe discovers the truth.

warnings: angst, swearing, mentions of alcohol, topper

Rafe's eyes fixated on the flickering flames of the bonfire as Topper and Kelce chatted beside him. The distant roar of the ocean served as a backdrop to the lively conversations around the beach. Topper, oblivious to Rafe's internal turmoil, casually mentioned, "Hey, it feels like I haven't seen Y/N in forever. What's she been up to?"

Kelce, always one for gossip, chimed in with a teasing smile, "Maybe she finally realized she's too good for the likes of us."

Rafe, lost in his own thoughts, absentmindedly took a swig from his drink, the liquid burning down his throat. The mention of your name sent a jolt through him, but he masked his reaction with a nonchalant demeanor. In reality, he hadn't stopped thinking about you, but the pain of the past had kept him from reaching out. The familiar ache in his chest intensified as he drowned his thoughts in the numbing embrace of alcohol. The bonfire's glow reflected in his troubled eyes as he struggled to reconcile the reality of your absence from his life.

As Rafe continued to nurse his drink, his gaze involuntarily wandered back to Sofia in the distance. The laughter and animated gestures of her friends painted a stark contrast to the turmoil within him. His mind replayed the unexpected encounter with you, the image of your radiant presence etched in his memory.

He took another swig from his drink, the burn of the alcohol providing a temporary distraction from the ache in his chest. Rafe's thoughts lingered on the details of your appearance—your longer hair, your sun-kissed skin. The subtle changes hadn't escaped his notice, and he found himself wondering about the reasons behind them. The sight of you had left an indelible mark, stirring a mix of emotions that he struggled to untangle. The once-familiar warmth he associated with you clashed with the icy reality of the present, leaving him disoriented and consumed by a cocktail of conflicting feelings.

"She's probably screwing Maybank now," Topper's casual pat on Rafe's back jolted him back to the present, disrupting the fragile sanctuary of his thoughts. The joke about you and JJ fell on his ears like a lead weight, and Rafe couldn't shake the tension that crept into his muscles. He managed a half-hearted laugh, but his gaze shifted from the fire to the crowd, scanning for any sign of you and JJ.

The idea that you could be with JJ, even if it was just a joke, stirred an unsettling mix of jealousy and regret within Rafe. He tried to dismiss the thought, reminding himself of the complexities that had led to your separation. However, the flicker of doubt lingered in the recesses of his mind, casting shadows over the flames that danced before him. The bonfire's warmth offered no solace to the internal turmoil that threatened to consume him.

"I mean she seemed pretty close to him even when her and Rafe were dating, so I wouldn't doubt it," Kelce's agreement with Topper's joke landed heavily on Rafe's ears, and an uncomfortable dryness settled in his throat. The casual banter felt like an unexpected blow, a reminder of the uncertainties surrounding your current situation. Even though Rafe tried to hide it, the subtle undercurrents of tension and longing painted an intricate mosaic of emotions on his face.

The flames of the bonfire danced wildly, mirroring the tempestuous thoughts raging within Rafe. He took another swig of his drink, attempting to drown out the rising tide of emotions that threatened to engulf him. The night, once full of anticipation, now felt like a merciless unraveling of suppressed feelings.

As Rafe rose from his seat, the disquietude within him became palpable. He excused himself with a hurried cough, a facade of normalcy failing to mask the turmoil brewing beneath the surface. Sofia was the anchor he sought in this sea of emotions, an attempt to regain composure and escape the incessant echoes of your presence. With determination etched on his face, Rafe navigated through the crowd, each step carrying the weight of unspoken words and unresolved feelings.

"Hey, where have you been?" Sofia turned around, a bright smile illuminating her face as she greeted Rafe. The warm camaraderie between them was evident, but Rafe's eyes betrayed a subtle urgency. He took another swig from his drink, the casual gesture belying the turmoil within.

"Hey, been around, you know how it is," he replied nonchalantly, trying to keep the conversation light. But then, his gaze intensified as he asked, "Have you seen Y/N? I thought she might be around here somewhere."

Sofia's expression shifted, catching the undercurrent of Rafe's inquiry. "Oh, Y/N! Yeah, she was here a while ago, but I think she left with JJ. They seemed in a hurry. Everything okay?"

The words hit Rafe like a punch to the gut. The revelation stung, and he could feel the facade of composure cracking. "Yeah, yeah, just curious," he mumbled, avoiding Sofia's eyes as he continued nursing his drink, the weight of the moment settling in.

The distant sound of laughter and chatter blended into a muffled buzz as Rafe's thoughts swirled in a tempest of emotions. Sofia's voice became an indistinct murmur as he gulped down his drink with a rapid, almost desperate, intensity. The liquid burned on its way down, but it provided a fleeting distraction from the turmoil within.

Anger simmered beneath the surface, a turbulent undercurrent to the steady rhythm of the bonfire crackling nearby. Each gulp was a futile attempt to drown out the echoing questions in his mind. Why did you leave with JJ? What did it mean? Did it matter?

His jaw clenched, and he resisted the urge to throw the empty cup into the flames. Instead, he lowered it slowly, his gaze fixed on the flickering fire, the dance of the flames mirroring the tumult of emotions within him.

"Gonna go grab another drink," With a strained smile, Rafe excused himself from Sofia and her friends, his movements deliberate yet detached. He navigated through the lively crowd, the distant hum of conversation and laughter forming an inconsequential backdrop to the storm brewing in his mind.

As he approached the makeshift bar, he could feel the weight of eyes on him, the warmth of the bonfire casting flickering shadows across his face. With a curt nod to the person manning the drinks, he grabbed another cup and poured himself another shot.

The fiery liquid burned down his throat, momentarily eclipsing the nagging thoughts that clung to him like persistent shadows. Rafe's gaze remained fixated on the undulating flames, a silent battle playing out within him. The liquor was a fleeting ally, offering a temporary respite from the relentless questions that clawed at the edges of his consciousness.

The glow of the bonfire reflected in Rafe's eyes as he hesitated, his thumb hovering over your contact name on his phone. He felt a surge of emotions battling within him—anger, longing, regret. For a few agonizing seconds, he stared at your name, the memories of your time together flooding his mind.

His internal struggle intensified. Part of him wanted to reach out, to hear your voice, to bridge the chasm that had grown between you. Another part resisted, fearing the pain and uncertainty that might accompany such a conversation. Rafe clenched his jaw, the internal conflict etched on his face as he grappled with the decision.

In the end, uncertainty won. With a heavy sigh, he locked his phone, the screen fading to black as he once again drowned his thoughts in the fiery solace of alcohol.

───────────────

The night air was filled with a mix of the ocean breeze and the aroma of the blunt you and JJ shared. Sitting on the steps of the chateau, you curled your knees up to your chest, finding a small sense of comfort in the night sky. Your gaze fixed on the moon, its pale glow casting a soft light over the surroundings.

JJ took a drag from the blunt, the sweet scent of cannabis lingering in the air. The sound of waves crashing against the shore created a rhythmic backdrop to the heavy silence that hung between you two. It was a moment of solace, an attempt to escape the tumultuous emotions stirred up by the unexpected encounter with Rafe.

As you exhaled a plume of smoke, you broke the silence. "I never expected to see him with someone else, especially Sofia," you confessed, your voice laced with a mixture of sadness and disbelief.

JJ nodded, his eyes reflecting understanding. "Yeah, that's a tough pill to swallow. But you know, people change. Circumstances change. Doesn't mean it's easy, though."

The words hung in the air, carrying the weight of the unspoken pain that both of you felt. The complex web of emotions surrounding Rafe, Sofia, and the past seemed to entangle you in an intricate dance of heartache.

Taking another drag, you leaned back against the steps, staring at the moon as if seeking solace from the celestial body. The tranquility of the night provided a temporary escape, a brief respite from the storm of emotions swirling within you.

JJ reached over, offering you the blunt. "Maybe things will get better, you know? It's like a fucked-up rollercoaster, but sometimes you gotta ride it out to get to the other side."

You took the blunt from him, the shared gesture a silent acknowledgment of the camaraderie between you two. The night continued its quiet vigil, the chateau standing as a silent witness to the unfolding chapters of your intertwined lives.

Your tired eyes met JJ's, and with a heavy sigh, you confessed, "I wish things could go back to the way they were before any of this happened. Before the secrets, the pain, before everything fell apart."

JJ took a thoughtful drag from the blunt, his eyes reflecting empathy. "Yeah, I get that. But you can't change the past, no matter how much you want to. All we can do is figure out how to navigate the present and hope for a better future."

There was a weighty silence as his words lingered in the air, the truth of them sinking in. The night wrapped around you, holding the shared vulnerability in the quiet space between conversations.

You stared into the distance, feeling the cool night air against your skin. The chateau, once a symbol of carefree moments and laughter, now stood as a silent witness to the complexities of relationships and the scars they leave behind.

JJ's gaze softened, and he gently rubbed your back in a comforting manner. "You've been handling all of this better than you give yourself credit for, you know? It takes strength to face the aftermath of a mess like this. You're doing better than you think, Y/N."

His words held a sincerity that offered a glimmer of solace, a reminder that amidst the chaos, there was someone who saw your resilience. The subtle warmth of his hand on your back, coupled with his reassuring words, provided a momentary reprieve from the turmoil within.

You chuckled, a bitter edge to the sound. "It just feels like I have the weight of the world on my shoulders."

JJ looked at you with understanding in his eyes. "I get it, Y/N. It's a lot to carry, especially when everything feels like it's falling apart. But you don't have to carry it all on your own. You've got people here for you, including me."

He paused for a moment, letting his words sink in before adding, "And hey, tonight wasn't easy for you. Seeing Rafe with someone else after all this time… I can't imagine how tough that was."

The shared understanding between you and JJ was a silent acknowledgment of the pain that lingered in the air, a pain that words could only touch the surface of.

"Yeah, seeing your ex with your co-worker, it's like a special kind of torture," you remarked, your voice tinged with bitterness. The bitter taste of reality mixed with the smoke of the blunt hung in the air as you continued, "I guess I deserve it, though, right? Karma or whatever."

JJ took a drag from the blunt, exhaling slowly before passing it back to you. "Y/N, you don't deserve any of this. Life's just been throwing a bunch of crap our way lately."

He placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, a silent gesture of support that spoke volumes. The night enveloped both of you in a blanket of darkness, punctuated by the distant sounds of laughter and music from the bonfire at the boneyard. In that moment, leaning against each other on the steps, it felt like a small sanctuary away from the turmoil that had become your lives.

With a faint smile, JJ extended his hand towards you. You reluctantly took JJ's hand, allowing him to help you up. The effects of the night were taking their toll, and the weight on your shoulders felt even heavier. As you stood, JJ wrapped an arm around your shoulders, offering silent support.

"Yeah, you're right," you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper. "Thanks for being here, JJ."

He squeezed your shoulders reassuringly. "Always, Y/N. Let's get you some rest."

Together, you made your way back into the chateau, leaving behind the night and its echoes of painful encounters. The door closed softly behind you, muffling the sounds of the outside world.

As you closed the door behind you, the silence of your room enveloped you. The events of the night weighed heavily on your mind, and you couldn't shake off the vivid image of Rafe with Sofia. The room felt emptier than ever, and the solitude pressed down on you.

You changed into your sleepwear, the fabric feeling cool against your skin. Crawling into bed, you stared at the ceiling, lost in your thoughts. The night's events replayed in your mind like a relentless loop, and sleep seemed elusive.

Tossing and turning, you tried to find a comfortable position. The soft glow from the moon spilled through your window, casting a gentle illumination in the room. Eventually, exhaustion overcame your racing thoughts, and you drifted into a fitful slumber.

The chateau, usually a place of comfort, felt unfamiliar. The bed that once cradled shared laughter and whispered secrets now seemed too large, too empty. The room echoed with the lingering emotions of the past, and as you closed your eyes, the boundary between dreams and reality blurred.

In the ethereal realm of dreams, you found yourself in a familiar and comforting place. The soft glow of a lamp illuminated Rafe's room, casting a warm ambiance that enveloped you both. The scent of his cologne lingered in the air, creating a sense of intimacy that transcended the boundaries of the waking world.

You were nestled against Rafe, the two of you sharing a quiet moment on his bed. The rhythmic hum of the television played in the background, its glow illuminating the room with a soft flicker. Laughter erupted between you, a harmonious melody that echoed through the dreamlike space.

Rafe's arm was draped around you, pulling you closer as you both reveled in the simplicity of the moment. The weight of the world lifted, and the connection you once shared seemed to rekindle in this dreamy haven. The touch of his fingers tracing absentminded patterns on your arm sent shivers down your spine, and the genuine joy in his laughter echoed like a soothing lullaby.

As the dream unfolded, the outside world faded away, and for a fleeting moment, it felt like time itself had paused to allow you to savor the stolen fragments of happiness. The dream encapsulated a bittersweet nostalgia, a stark contrast to the harsh reality that awaited you when morning inevitably arrived.

Little did you know, the dream held its secrets close, masking the ephemeral illusion from the conscious mind that yearned for a respite from the ache that lingered in the waking hours.

───────────────

The morning light spilled through your window, casting a golden glow across your room. Despite the sun's attempt to bring warmth, the heaviness in your heart lingered, and the bitter fog of reality settled around you like a persistent shadow.

With a reluctant sigh, you forced yourself to sit up, the weight of the previous night's encounters clinging to your every thought. The dream, though a temporary escape, was now just a fleeting memory, leaving you grappling with the harsh truth of the present.

As you moved through the motions of the morning, the world outside seemed to carry on as if nothing had changed. Birds chirped in the distance, and the distant hum of life continued, but within the confines of your own emotional landscape, a storm brewed.

Each step felt like an uphill climb, and the simple act of getting out of bed became a monumental task. The remnants of the dream lingered, teasing you with echoes of a reality that seemed increasingly distant.

You caught your reflection in the mirror, and for a moment, you studied the weariness in your eyes. The events of the previous night had left their mark, etching lines of sorrow and longing on your face.

JJ's presence in the kitchen, flipping pancakes with a carefree demeanor, brought a bittersweet nostalgia. The aroma of breakfast filled the air, reminiscent of mornings spent with Rafe, whose declaration of love had once echoed in the same space.

Your lips curved into a small, melancholic smile as you took a seat at the table. The contrast between then and now hung in the air, the scent of pancakes carrying both the warmth of memories and the ache of their absence.

JJ, absorbed in his pancake-flipping task, glanced over at you with a lighthearted grin. "Morning," he greeted, a hint of concern in his eyes as he noticed the subtle change in your expression.

"Morning," you replied, your smile lingering as you appreciated the effort JJ put into creating a sense of normalcy. The echoes of the past lingered, and yet, in this moment, you found solace in the companionship of a friend determined to bring a bit of joy to your morning.

As the pancakes sizzled on the griddle, you allowed the bittersweet memories to wash over you, momentarily lost in the intricate dance between past and present.

"Are you scheduled to work with me today?" you asked, breaking the trance of your thoughts and returning to the present.

JJ, still flipping pancakes, shook his head. "Nah, I'm off today. Figured I'd whip up some breakfast for us."

JJ's carefree demeanor faltered for a moment as he listened to your words. The realization that you were scheduled to work while he enjoyed a day off hung in the air, a stark reminder of the challenges life had thrown your way.

"Hey," he said gently, turning his attention away from the pancakes. "You don't have to go if you don't want to. We can figure something out."

You sighed, appreciating the offer but feeling the weight of responsibility pressing down on you. "I appreciate it, JJ, but I can't just bail on work. Bills don't pay themselves."

JJ's expression tightened, an empathetic frown forming on his face. "I know, Y/N. But sometimes, you gotta take a break for yourself. You've been through a lot lately."

The sincerity in his words tugged at your heart, and for a moment, you considered the idea of taking a break. The weight of the world seemed a bit lighter when shared with a friend who genuinely cared.

Taking a bite of the pancake, you sighed and looked at JJ, a sense of vulnerability in your eyes. "I don't know how I'm gonna handle work today, JJ. I just... I can't imagine being around Sofia after what happened last night."

JJ nodded in understanding, chewing thoughtfully. "Yeah, I get that. It's gonna be tough, but you've got this."

You let out a frustrated exhale. "I just wish things could go back to how they were, you know? Simple and uncomplicated."

JJ's expression softened, and he reached across the table to give your hand a reassuring squeeze. "I know, Y/N. I wish that for you too. But we'll get through this, alright? One day at a time."

His words offered a glimmer of comfort, and you managed a small smile. "Thanks, JJ. I appreciate you being here for me."

"No problem, kiddo. We're in this together," JJ replied, his gaze warm and supportive. The weight of the upcoming day lingered, but for that moment, the camaraderie between you and JJ provided a much-needed anchor.

Once you finished the remainder of your pancakes, you hurriedly changed into your waitress uniform, the fabric feeling strangely foreign against your skin. Each step felt like a chore, and the knot in your stomach tightened as you thought about facing the day. With a rushed goodbye to JJ, you headed out the door, the cool air doing little to ease the tension that gripped you. As you approached your car, you took a deep breath, bracing yourself for the challenges that awaited you at work.

You sat in your car for a few moments, the engine humming softly, contemplating the day ahead. The drive to work had passed in a blur, and now the reality of facing everyone at the restaurant loomed ahead. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for whatever emotions and challenges awaited you inside. With a sigh, you opened the car door and stepped out, determined to navigate through the day as best as you could.

Sofia's cheerful greeting caught you off guard as you entered the restaurant. A forced smile appeared on your face as you reciprocated the greeting, trying your best to maintain a friendly demeanor despite the turbulent emotions swirling within you.

Sofia's voice rang out, pulling you away from your thoughts. "Hey there! I was wondering where you disappeared to last night. The bonfire was just getting started," she said, her tone friendly but curious.

You managed a small smile, trying to play off your early exit. "Yeah, I just needed some quiet time, you know? The crowd was a bit much for me," you explained, hoping to brush off any further inquiries.

Sofia tilted her head, a glint of curiosity in her eyes. "Everything okay, Y/N? You seemed a bit off. Did something happen?"

You debated how much to share, not wanting to delve into the complicated emotions of seeing Rafe with Sofia. "Nah, just one of those nights. Sometimes you just need to recharge solo," you replied, hoping she wouldn't dig any deeper.

Sofia nodded, seeming to accept your explanation. "Fair enough. Well, if you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here. We all are," she offered, her friendly demeanor shining through.

"Thanks, Sofia. I appreciate that," you replied, grateful for her kindness.

Sofia's voice caught you off guard once more, this time steering the conversation in a different direction. "Hey, quick question," she began, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "Is there something going on between you and JJ?"

You blinked, surprised by the unexpected question. "Uh, no, why do you ask?" you replied, trying to sound casual.

She leaned in a bit, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "Oh, I don't know. I just noticed you two seem pretty close, always together and all. People are starting to talk, you know?" Sofia added with a sly grin.

You couldn't help but chuckle nervously. "No, Sofia, JJ and I are just good friends. Nothing more," you clarified, hoping to dispel any potential rumors.

She raised an eyebrow playfully. "Just friends, huh? Well, you two certainly spend a lot of time together. Anyway, just thought I'd ask. Gossip has a way of spreading around here," she teased before heading back to her duties.

As Sofia left, you couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that the workplace dynamics were shifting, and the last thing you needed was more complications. The weight of Sofia's words lingered in the air, a subtle annoyance gnawing at you. It wasn't just the insinuations about you and JJ; it was the reminder of the tangled web of relationships and feelings that surrounded you. Frustration simmered beneath the surface, fueled by the growing complexity of your personal life.

As you went about your work, you couldn't shake the feeling that the workplace dynamics had shifted, and the eyes of your colleagues seemed to carry unspoken questions. The atmosphere felt charged with unsaid words and assumptions, adding an extra layer of stress to an already challenging situation. Despite your efforts to focus on your tasks, the undercurrent of workplace gossip cast a shadow over your day.

As the hours passed into your shift, almost nearing the end of the day, you managed to get through your work while avoiding Sofia as much as possible. You attempted to focus solely on your tasks, hoping to minimize any unnecessary interactions. The atmosphere in the restaurant remained tense for you, a constant reminder of the recent events.

Suddenly, the hostess approached you with news of a large party that had just arrived. You took a deep breath, preparing yourself to face whatever challenges lay ahead. After a quick cleanup, you headed out to the dining area, only to be met with the sight of Rafe and his friends sitting at the table you were assigned to.

A wave of discomfort washed over you, and you had to work hard to hide your surprise behind a forced smile. The unexpected presence of Rafe and his friends added an extra layer of tension to your already strained day. Trying to maintain professionalism, you approached the table and greeted them with a neutral tone.

"Hey, welcome! My name's Y/N, and I'll be taking care of you all today. Can I start you off with some drinks?" you asked, doing your best to keep your composure despite the internal turmoil. The forced interaction with Rafe and his friends in a professional setting made the situation even more challenging to navigate.

You felt a sense of discomfort wash over you as Topper recognized you. He greeted you with a mischievous grin, "Well, well, well, if it isn't the elusive Y/N," he remarked, his tone teasing. "I haven't seen you around in forever. What have you been up to?"

You forced a polite but strained smile, not entirely comfortable with the unexpected attention. "Hey, Topper. Yeah, it's been a bit." You tried to steer the conversation towards neutral ground, hoping to avoid any unnecessary complications during your shift.

Topper's friend smirked, intrigued by the mention of past connections. "Oh, really? How do you two know each other?" he asked.

Topper leaned back in his chair, a sly grin playing on his lips. "Y/N and Rafe used to date. Crazy, right? Small world."

You felt a mix of discomfort and annoyance as Topper casually threw that piece of information into the conversation. The atmosphere at the table shifted slightly, and you tried to maintain your composure, not wanting to let on that the revelation affected you.

Rafe's jaw clenched, and his eyes shot a fierce glare at Topper. "Fuck off, Topper," he snapped, the tension in his voice cutting through the air. The atmosphere at the table grew more palpable, and the friends exchanged glances, sensing the underlying tension.

The friend leaned back in his chair, chuckling, "Seriously, Rafe, how'd you mess that up?"

Rafe's jaw clenched as he shot a piercing glare at his friend, "Back off, man."

Topper, enjoying the discomfort he was causing, chimed in with a teasing smile, "Come on, Rafe, spill. What went wrong?"

The conversation at the table continued, but you couldn't bring yourself to meet anyone's eyes. The weight of the awkwardness hung heavily in the air. You focused on taking the orders, avoiding any direct interaction. Rafe's presence added an extra layer of tension to the atmosphere, and you couldn't shake off the discomfort that lingered throughout the encounter.

Rafe's frustration boiled over as he snapped at Topper, "Enough, Topper. Knock it off."

Topper, undeterred by Rafe's warning, chuckled and added fuel to the fire, "Come on, man. It's not every day we get the scoop on Rafe Cameron's love life. Gotta spill the tea, right?" The other friend at the table joined in the laughter, completely oblivious to the discomfort spreading across your face.

Topper continued with his teasing, "Yeah, seriously, it was like a soap opera. One minute they're together, the next minute, she's with JJ. Classic love triangle stuff." Rafe's jaw clenched tighter, and you could see the frustration building in his eyes. The friend at the table leaned in, eager to hear more of the drama.

The other friend's eyes widened in mock shock, and he burst into laughter, teasing Rafe about being the second choice to JJ.

Topper joined in, playfully patting Rafe on the back, "Don't worry, buddy. We all have our ups and downs."

Rafe's frustration escalated, evident in the way his fists clenched on the table. The atmosphere at the table became tense, and you felt a mixture of discomfort and sympathy for Rafe.

Your voice trembled slightly as you spoke up, "Excuse me," and, with tears forming in your eyes, you swiftly turned away from the table and stormed outside. The weight of the situation pressed heavily on your shoulders, and the cool air outside provided a brief relief from the suffocating atmosphere within the restaurant.

As the door closed behind you, you took a moment to collect yourself, trying to shake off the embarrassment and pain that clung to you like an unwelcome shadow. The words exchanged at the table echoed in your mind, leaving you grappling with a whirlwind of emotions.

"Y/N?"

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[alwaysshallow]

prompt: You’re a retired S-tier supervillain. After you retired, you married a B-tier hero. You are forced back onto the stage when an A-tier villain attempts to kill your spouse. Ghost x reader

A/N: i don't know if i hate this or i like, so. it's yours to decide lmfao. especially that's a tiiiiny part that i decided to wrote bc i was bored.

Everyone wants to live happily ever after.

Not exactly a quiet life, but not too loud either. A perfect balance, where you have all the things (or almost all of them) to be happy, fulfilled in life.

Life that wanted your mother for you, before it all went down. Before you turned evil, as she liked to say.

You try to tell yourself that you deserve every inch of it, but you still miss the thrill of the hunt, blood on your hands, the way you just ruled the city like you wanted. Unbothered.

When your husband doesn’t look, you take out your mask, hidden carefully behind all those unopened cartons from your wedding. He thinks you burned all of your past, and here you are. Hiding it like a precious possession, so carefully.

It took you long enough to earn it—you don’t think you quite deserve it, but it’s nice to be a wife that can greet her husband every time he comes home from work. Every time he mentions something about you joining him, but it could be quite a laugh, you say.

A retired villain turned superhero. You’d rather die than make it happen, but that’s what your husband doesn’t know.

Well, he doesn’t know a lot of things.

For example, he doesn’t know how conflicted you are. Unconsciously, you think that you sabotage all of those happy moments. Overthinking stuff, asking yourself if you’re really in a good place, if you made a right decision; if a man is worth giving up your career.

Your whole life, if you want to be petty enough. Your whole life changed because of him—hell, you even changed in some way. Less snarkier, more laid back, so you wouldn’t be degraded to trophy wife, burned out villain in front of his friends and family.

Make them proud, he said once, before a meeting with his friends. Meeting that turned to complete disaster, heading home way earlier than you were supposed to because superhero bullshit bored and annoyed you enough.

But you tried to put up with it. Convince yourself that it is your fate, not the villain route that you chose before.

Fate hits you right in the face, when you enter your apartment to see three significant changes.

Your husband is tied like a pig on the table. Tight.

The apartment looks like a tornado went through it.

And three—

“Took you long enough.”

Yeah. That’s three.

You almost want to laugh. A bandit-like balaclava could scare a lot of people, but not you—not when you know him inside out. Not when you basically competed with him your whole life before.

Yeah. Before. Before you met your husband, before you two got married, before you decided to retire. The taste of this decision is bitter on your tongue, just like the thought that you feel excited for the first time in months because there’s potential danger. Something breaking you out of the routine.

“Normal people do groceries around this hour.” You shrug casually, taking a few steps; the intention of untying your husband falters the moment Ghost blocks your way, amused. You raise your eyebrow. “Come on—”

“—What? Scared?”

“No. But he has probably nothing to do with your business,” you point out, harshly. He lets out a scoff.

“Said that he’s gonna call cops on me. Very unfriendly behavior from a superhero, won’t you agree?” He tilts his head with a theatrical manner.

“I’d do the same,” you murmur under your nose, taking out the material that Ghost gagged your husband with. Carefully, your hand lands on the ropes, until Simon stops you.

“We have better things to do,” he says, his voice low. “Gotta step out from that wife role for a moment, ‘m takin’ you. He’s gonna do fine.”

“You’re taking me?”

“I am, yeah. A problem?” He arches an eyebrow, his grip tight on your wrist. Attacking him is useless, especially when he knows how you want to do it; he’s quick to pin you down against the counter. His front is hot against your ass—he laughs, as he’s almost able to feel your humiliation. “Won’t do anythin’ right in front of your husband, don’t worry. Or, will I?” he looks down at you, expression mocking.

“I hate—”

“Mm. Yeah, won’t do me good.”

And then, you’re out.

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

I think for all the discussions we have of "everyone hears the jokes and the piano; after that, they stop listening" surrounding Louis, we tend to still simplify his connection to the piano.

Yes, it's very cute that he sings Clementine a little song when they first meet, and it's very cute that he plays a little prank on her while "tuning" the piano. It's super cute that they carve their initials into the piano and Clementine carves a heart around them. It's mega cute that he names his song he wrote after her when she confesses her feelings. Louis playing Don't Be Afraid at the party is, in my opinion, one of the best moments in all of TFS.

But here's the thing: That piano is Louis' heart.

I don't mean to go all metaphorical on you, but I'm dead serious—the piano is Louis' heart, and when you think about his arc and his romance route with that in mind...?

That piano is his one comfort in a world where the dead walk. It's been with him from the beginning of the outbreak. We know from his backstory that Louis wanted to take singing lessons so he could be a real musician, and his father denying him of that was what set him off to be a "vindictive fuckhead." Louis never got those singing lessons, and it's a very real possibility that Louis taught himself how to play.

Sure, others could've taught him; we know Minerva was musically talented, perhaps she showed him a thing or two. But learning piano, or any instrument, is brutal even with professional guidance. It takes hours of practice until numbness wears fingertips raw; dedication to memorize every key and finger placement to make music pleasing to the ear; self-discipline to keep going through every fumble, every failure, every single cruel thought of self-doubt; intelligence and a creative ear to write his own songs.

And yet, it's severely under-appreciated by everyone. It's annoying. It's distracting. It's unimportant. It's an excuse for Louis to mess around and not do any real work. He doesn't have any actual talent. The music and the piano are brushed off, unheard.

Yet, Louis keeps playing. He keeps singing. He keeps making jokes.

Creating music, the one thing he wanted so badly as a kid that he destroyed his parents marriage, was possibly the greatest comfort he had... a welcome distraction to disassociate from the horror and death happening around him.

It's bittersweet, like a purpling bruise that you can't stop pressing on; it hurts, but there's something else below the pain. The piano is out of tune and it's something that brings him joy... but will always act as a constant reminder of who he was and what he did, why he's at Ericson to begin with.

We first meet him while he's playing; Louis' heart is exposed, but is it really? Is he playing to his true potential? Louis hides behind the mask of a charming, charismatic goof. It's what is expected of him, so he plays a silly song intended to poke and prod at Clementine, to gauge a reaction. That's something we see him do at multiple points in episode one. In fact, we can consider a majority of episode one to be like the song he's playing when we meet him; it's mostly cheery or fast-paced.

Louis is able to soothe AJ with his "alluring" music after the kid bit Ruby is an indication that the two of them will share a bond. Louis is a natural at communicating and bonding with the younger kids [another talent that's overlooked] so it's interesting that he praises AJ for being a natural at piano, as well.

But the song stutters just a bit when Louis and Clementine are in the woods together, though; "There's only one guarantee: this moment. That's the only you got, only thing any of us got. Might as well enjoy it." ...Only for Louis to compose himself and send her away.

It's only when Clementine has a gun in her face, held by Marlon, that the music isn't fun anymore; it's rainfall and thunder and the words "I thought you were more than that" sung through the wind in a melody only Louis can hear.

Then Marlon's dead. The song is over, and reality has arrived.

I've talked at length about Louis in ep2 and his vote in the past. It's one of the most compelling things about Louis' arc and romantic route. It's a tragic mistake driven by trauma and guilt. It's people simultaneously telling him to shut up and telling him to be angrier than he is. Telling him to stop burying his head in the sand when he's never been more aware of everything happening. It's AJ peering up at him with pleading eyes that Louis can't stand to look at. It's Clementine wrapping his heartstrings around her fingers and tugging just enough to hurt, but not break.

Louis missed Clementine. He says as much when Clementine admits she missed him first. I don't even know where to begin with that! I can think of no other way to describe it other than they are half agony, half hope over this... and if you get that reference, you get a gold star. I just- the ache, the tension, the conflicting feelings of finally having a quiet moment to talk but Louis not being ready yet.

Y'know how someone carved "you suck at playing" in the side of the piano? It's something you might not initially notice while playing the game, just as Louis' insecurities aren't apparent at first.. but they're carved in him; never fully healed, still scabbed and bleeding... Until Clementine offers him a bandage.

She won't clean the wound for him, but she'll be there. She'll help him figure out how to do it himself so he can heal. She'll listen to him, not belittle his feelings or pain. She'll make an effort to know his keys and notes and practice playing his song until she understands.

When Clementine chooses him to spend time with him, it's a mirror of their first time meeting... but this time, Louis plays something real: a song he wrote, one that I believe he crafted during the two week time skip... a song he wrote with Clementine on his mind, for better or worse.

If the piano is Louis' heart, he literally asks her to sit there and try to tune it, which ends up being a joke but I say she's already tuned your heart, my guy. It's there before them, changed in the warm candlelight. He plays for her and opens up about how no one actually listens, but Clementine did.

And remember, this is the night of the raid. They don't know it's coming, but they know it'll be soon. Louis understands that he could very well die, so what does he do? He carves his initial into the one thing he's always had, and he asks Clementine to do the same.

I'm sorry, how are we NOT more feral about this? Prior to this scene, the only thing we see carved into the piano, into Louis' heart, is an insult. This thing that Louis cares so deeply about, this instrument that's become so intertwined with who he is... he wants to leave his mark on it just in case he dies. A reminder that it was his and he belonged to it just as much. Something so important, and he asks Clementine to carve herself into his heart where no matter what, they will be immortalized together in this moment.

And when Clementine carves a heart around their initials? Yes, his reaction is very cute and that's great... but she's not ashamed of him, or her feelings for him. She wants everyone who looks upon his heart to know that. She tells him how she feels and Louis is so giddy, and warm, and he names the song after her and I am going to start biting anything that moves, I can't-

Oh, and let's discuss the party scene in episode three, shall we? Y'know, where the heart covered initials are on full display? Where Louis tells the story of why he was sent to Ericson to everyone?

Louis is so... vulnerable. Sincere. Ashamed of what he did. This is the exposed nerve, the one he was so afraid of showing Clementine but there it is... and she doesn't reject him. Sure, she can say it's fucked up if you choose to, but she doesn't break up with him over it.

Also the fact that everyone sitting around him finally listens when he's at his most unshielded only for Tenn to ask him to play Don't Be Afraid for them after...? How do you not see the connection? Are you trying to make me cry? In that moment, Louis' heart was heard and appreciated and beautiful and strong and-

Listen. I am fine. I'm so normal about this. And fine. I'm fine.

But I also have to add that during the walk in episode four, if you let Louis choose what to add to the imaginary house, he picks a brand new piano because he wants a new heart to reflect the confidence and growth Clementine helped him achieve and because he loves her and AJ so much that wants the new heart to not just be his but also theirs and I am so fine with this, okay.