#and most of the people using it would stop replying after one letter

[poorlittlevampire]

i still want a penpal so bad ive tried to find one but have had no luck yet

[iicarused]

##let us adore you

jeff the killer x reader / eyeless jack x reader / ticci toby x reader / UNEDITED

synopsis: general headcanons in which how you met them

beware: DARK THEMES / yandere traits, stalking, implied manipulation, mentions of murder &&* gore //: if there is any that i missed, please let me know !

envelope from the author: masky, hoodie, and kate chaser will be pt 2 of this:)

JEFF THE KILLER

he met you at a convenience store, how funny. this man planned on killing the cashier, take the cash and leave a meal for his cannibal friend out back, then hop to the next town over. yet, you walked through the aisles of the store at the dark of the night. do you know what kind of creeps are out here at this hour?

he waited for you to leave before he got the job done. you should feel relieved, you should feel like the most luckiest person in the world and it’s because he spared you.

“no, i’m staying back.” he would tell his eyeless friend. “it’s my business to know and for you to fuck off,” he’d argue. “i have a… dilemma.” jeff confessed. for someone he only caught a glimpse of, for a voice he only heard a faint whisper from, he didn’t know whether to stay just for you or to leave while he can.

you were a plague in his mind, because he searched for you. it took three days at most to finally find the dorms you stayed in, and another three to know your roommates schedule. everyone in the area was shaken from the murder, everything including you. but why?

he could not understand why you would lock your windows and double check if the door was locked. both of you lived in a secured building where security littered the grounds and constantly checked ID. jeff would know, he stole a carbon copy of himself (in terms of dressing style) just to make sure of your safety on campus.

“hey, watch it!” jeff barked at the random who sped by you. he fixed his mask and came to your aid, a gloved hand coming over yours to help you up from the grass.

“oh, they’re probably just late to class,” you breathed. “it’s fine, but thank you.”

through the thin lens of his sunglasses, jeff drank in your appearance. “they could’ve bumped you on to the curb side — it really ain’t, sweetheart.” you smell great by the way.

“but they didn’t.” you finally looked at him and smiled. “are you a med student?”

you’re so sweet. so pure, and he wanted to corrupt that. he wanted to see those pretty doe eyes flutter up at him like that again, for the sweetness behind your gaze was enough for him to melt. he wants you, no, he needs you.

EYELESS JACK

you were a curious one, a little too curious in this scenario. a detective in a case of which you were to figure out why bodies were missing organs — or why people were waking up with soreness to their abdomen to only find a stitched up wound.

you took this case as an eager detective who wanted to solve the biggest mystery of north america — but you felt as if you just signed your life away. in the next eight victims that fell to their demise, you made notes of when and where it occurred. it would not be until a night after talking with the sheriff and little too much rum, you found something.

to your horror, the first letter of every street spelled something. two words that nearly sent you running if it weren’t for something stopping you from leaving

“found you.” his voice was a gentle whisper, and almost incoherent if it weren’t for the dead silence in the room. you dared not turn but you felt if you didn’t, it would come closer.

the pistol is on your desk and you’re ready to make a ruckus for anyone on the street to hear. “what? was this just some silly little game for you to show me you could spell?” there were only two regrets you had in your entire life.

the first regret was that you wished you never lied to your mother of who broke the plate that was on the floor. the second regret was turning around and facing a being that was too intricate for you to understand.

“i like playing with my food.” he replied before lunging at you.

you made it out alive — but at the cost of remembering how those sockets were nothing but a void. the liquid that cried on to your face when he was on top of you, and that second, you took your pen and stabbed his side. — but that encounter made you more determined than before

this case turned into a game of cat and mouse, and neither of you know who is cat or who is the mouse. chasing each other became a source of entertainment, and conversations ensued between physical fights

he never intended on killing you, oh no. you were too… fun. the chatting, the hunting each other, the thrill of it all made him go crazy. with time, maybe he can finally sink his teeth into your skin without the murder aspect. he just wants to taste you.

TICCI TOBY

your name appeared on the file of people to “take care of.” why? he doesn’t know and quite frankly, he cannot care. you were just another name on the list that needed to be gone.

he would not lie that it took him ages to find you. the town you were supposedly at was a total flunk, and when he told the boss, he was told to figure it out. at this rate, he wanted you gone for the sake of his own sanity. yet, after a month and hopping two towns, he finally found you.

everything he had on file sprouted nothing but lies because you were a doll, quiet literally if he fixated on your skin. he watched the way you moved and the way you made it seem effortless to walk on two feet. he often tripped over his when gawking over you. your scent is just how he imagined it when he peered over your sleeping form.

you made him forget why he was in search of you in the first place. toby fantasized a lot about you: your curves, your voice, your walk, your life. he often daydreamed of it when watching from afar, especially when you went through mundane tasks such as grocery shopping. the only time he remembered why he was told to end you was when he questioned why you were such a threat.

turns out you were friends of a friend who was a foe to his boss — the eyeless man. he made it no secret when in turn he went to find jack, but he didn’t expect to meet you so soon! oh, this is way too soon, how does he look? is it okay, this setting isn’t the right place, i mean, you were supposed to be

“toby? just toby? that isn’t quiet threatening for a man like that, isn’t it?” you werent speaking towards him, but instead asking jack who snorted in return.

you were a prize on the shelf, and toby wanted to keep you behind glass doors. “listen — pal, friend — how about we make a deal.”

while jack couldn’t see it, your gaze was locked with toby’s the entire time. there was something behind them, something that you couldn’t quite place. you weren’t sure whether if it was a good or bad thing considering the work you found yourself in.

“i give you a useful warning from a boss, and i... tag a long sometimes.”

[ambros1an]

Hsr characters in a Soulmate au

warnings: sunday backstory, implied Gopher Wood being a bad father (Sunday), implied stellaron hunter Sunday, discrimination (aventurine, not said by reader), debt (aventurine), firefly backstory, 2.0-2.2 penacony spoilers

characters: Sunday, Aventurine, Firefly

a/n: it's so obvious who's my #1 fav in this

Sunday: writing

Throughout the world, everyone had the ability to communicate to their soulmates through writing on their own skin.

Sunday doesn't remember much about his childhood. His home-world was entrenched in war. The only constant in his life was his own sister, and the strange symbols on his wrists.

After being taken in by Gopher Wood, he would be taught that those symbols were words, and they came from his Soulmate. Excitedly, he'd take to the books to communicate with the person on the other end. At first it was little doodles, then broken sentences, and then full on conversations.

He wrote about his sister, the charmony dove, music and literature. One day, the writing stopped. You'd jot down messages in concern, so worried to the point your hand writing looked like illegible scribbles. He never did tell you his name after all.

After years, finally you got a response.

'Meet me at Dreamflux Reef, here, at 8 pm.' You couldn't help but notice that your soulmate's penmanship had improved after all these years. The once poor excuse for cursive wasn't just printed letters attached to one another, but font-like in it's neatness with broad loops. Despite the brief words written on your skin, your stomach rolled. Was it nerves or excitement?

There was a little hand-drawn map, taking up a portion of your forearm, with an 'X' on the location. You approached the streetlight ahead of you. It was five minutes before 8 pm, at the exact area he told you to be at.

There was somebody there. In the darkness, it was hard to see. The streetlight offered little brightness. Just a faint glow upon whoever it was. They were clearly halovian, a light bounced off their halo, providing a shine in your line of sight. Contrarily, they stood in dark clothes. And seemed to be fidgeting...as if waiting for someone.

As if on cue, the figure straightens up and turns to look at you. Those grey feathers and yellow eyes were unmistakable.

"Mr. Sunday?" The man hasn't been seen since the Order was chased out of Penacony.

"I didn't expect you to show up early," Sunday gives a halfhearted chuckle, then he calls your name, "you are them, right?"

"Yes, but-" You look towards your arm where the writing is located.

He sighs and shakes his head, "I...I'm the one who's been writing to you all these years." Sunday lifts his sleeve, on it is your reply to him, asking where he's been, and saying you'd be there.

Your soulmate was Sunday. The former head of the Oak Family. An MIA criminal. But also your childhood friend, who you never met.

There was so much to say, but the only thing you could think to ask was, "Why? You've been gone for so long..."

"I'm sorry. My fa-the dream master, prevented me from reaching out to you. He wanted me to be 'the chosen one' for The Order. I'm sorry that it took so long for me to-"

Gently, you put your arms around him.

"I was so worried. Please, talk to me. About everything."

He would, but now, all he wanted to do was rest in your embrace.

Aventurine: eye color

Everyone has one of their eyes the same eye color as their soulmate’s, until they meet.

It’s something that’s so arbitrary and meaningless to most people. There are only so many colors in the universe after all. But not yours.

“Sigonian.” Disdain.

“Poor child.” Pity.

“Whoever your soulmate is, you’re better off not meeting them.” Disgust.

Sigonia. A far off planet somewhere in the galaxy. Lightyears away. Where a people known for their unique eyes resides. Or used to reside.

Looking into the mirror, your right eye looks back at you, it’s a purple tinged with blue. You wonder what your soulmate’s would’ve looked like. You’ve long since accepted that any possible soulmate would’ve died years ago. Not even baseless rumors could settle any feelings of loss.

Knock Knock

Debt collectors.

The gentle knocks turn into bangs. The person standing outside takes a full walk around your house, peering inside any windows in search of you. The IPC was relentless when it came to debt. They'd make constant calls, tell your neighbors, blackmail their debtors, tack on more and more money, all to collect as much money as possible.

Just as your nerves calm down your phone rings. It's from a family member.

"Hello?"

"Hello, I'm calling from the IPC." That's not them. The voice is male with a smoothness to his voice. He disguised his number.

Just when you're about to hang up, "Don't hang up yet, I have a proposition for you." He instructs you to open the door.

You follow his instructions. Each step you make, the pit in your stomach gets wider. The door creeks as you turn the knob.

Two purple eyes, with a blue ring around the pupil. Sigonian. His eyes mirror your right one. But, within his reflection you see your own two regular colored eyes. Wait-

The man's mouth drops in shock, but instantly pulls into a grin. He hangs up the call.

"I see what's going on here. This time, the charge is on me," Aventurine insists. He's covered in designer clothing from head to toe, with golden rings lining each finger. You know right then and there that anything you say will get you nowhere. You're just glad he seems to be on your side.

"...Thank you."

"Mmm, but I never said it was without recompense." Shit. "In return, I'll provide you with a better place to live. This place is a bit...run down," he takes a glance around your home, and you can't help but feel embarrassed.

"Thank you, Aventurine, but that just sounds like I'll be in your debt."

He waves you off. "Debt? No, friend. What kind of partner would I be to let my soulmate fend for themselves?"

Firefly : timer

Every person across the galaxy has a timer leading up to the meeting of their soulmate.

4,000 years. Approximately 35,040,000 hours.

That was what Firefly had.

When she first awoke in her incubation chamber, it felt like she could wait forever. Their purpose was to devote their entire being to Glamoth. She did not dream. Not of the warmth of someone’s hands in theirs. Not of someone telling her that she was more. That was not a right of a weapon.

Yet, under the ashen sky and fields of smoke, not a single light shone through. Glamoth would never see the sun again. That was no place for a firefly.

For the last time she broke all protocol.

They unfurled their wings and chased the light. Finally, Unit AR-26710’s heart fluttered for a purpose that wouldn’t destroy.

24 hours = 1,440 minutes = 86,400 seconds.

They’d be landing in Penacony soon. She looked at her wrist, where the countdown was located. 1 day. She could feel her heart beat in her throat; she was so nervous.

Love. Kafka taught her that emotion. She’d never felt it before. Not that way.

Her eyes never left the window.

5 minutes = 300 seconds.

299, 298, 297, 296… Thinking in seconds was faster than minutes. It made time go faster. Minutes felt like eternity.

120, 119, 118, 117… Were they standing in the same area? Could she be looking at them right now? How far apart were they? Would they be tall or short? Would they be the time to put milk before cereal? Would they even like her?

10, 9, 8, 7… She watched the time tick away. She didn’t dare to look up least she burn up from the inside. It felt like her propulsion accidentally activated.

4, 3, 2, 1—

A figure crashed into her from behind. “I’m so sorry!”

0

She turned to look, and there you were. Yet, there was no celebration like she imagined. No hugging. No holding each other in an embrace. Instead, your face was pulled into grimace. Your arm gently interlocking with hers. Your posture was tight and hunched. All the signs of an uneasy person. Two Bloodhound members trailed after you.

“Did we do something wrong?” Firefly moved to stand in front of you

“That’s classified information,” one of the bloodhound guards say, gaze shifting off to look at you.

“I really didn’t do anything.” You look at Firefly with a pleading look.

The girl looks back at you and nods. She grabs your hand, the one the countdown is located on and charges for the alleys.

You hear the slap of their shoes against the concrete. The hurried pants of the guards. The footsteps behind you get louder and closer. In spite of the danger, all you can think about is the girl whose fingers are intertwined with yours. It brings a rush to your cheeks that only a breeze can soothe.

When your soulmate rounds the corner of the alley, her warm hand laced with yours turn a cold metallic. Her other hand placed around the small of your back in support. The suit of the armor is cold against your skin, but there’s a heat that radiates from the chest of the mech. It soothes your nerves. The lack of heat from her hand interlocked with yours may be replaced, but it was welcome.

When she unwraps her wings from behind her suit, a warm air erupts around you. Suddenly, you’re in the sky. The wind ruffles your hair, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Not when it dawns on you that you’re in your soulmate’s arms.

‘How would the other hunters react if they knew she blew her cover? Kafka was definitely going to tease her."

a/n #2: aven's was so hard to write. he feels like such a sleazebag in this but its only because he's in work mode I promise !! I want to do more of these bc it was fun.

[fandoms-x-reader]

Teenage! MC

Requested By: @opiopal

Headcannons

Summary: How the brothers' would act around you if you were a teenager that got sent to the Devildom. The brothers x MC platonically / sibling relationship

Lucifer felt a bit guilty when it came to you. He was the one who was in charge of picking the human for the exchange student program. So, by default, he was the reason you got ripped from your life and brought down to the human world.

He was surprised by how well you had adjusted to life there. You did your best to be respectful, did your homework, and had great manners.

Lucifer dared to say you behaved better than his brothers who were centuries years old.

But, you still had your moments that baffled Lucifer and made him mentally face-palm.

You were in a student council meeting with Lord Diavolo and the others; and, you dared to call Lord Diavolo “dude”. 

A collection of gaps broke out across the room when the word left your lips. You called the future King of the Devildom “dude”! You could see some of the brothers - mostly Belphie - stifling their laughter at the situation.

But, Lucifer was completely mortified. His eyes were wide and his expression looked flushed. He couldn’t believe your audacity.

Luckily, Diavolo laughed the whole situation off. He found it amusing.

But that didn’t stop Lucifer from giving you a long lecture on how you were to never do that again.

And the next time you came face-to-face with Diavolo, Lucifer was on high alert, ready to clasp his hand over your mouth every time you said any word that started with the letter ‘D’. Just to make sure that never happened again.

Lucifer was used to being the head of the household and making sure everyone did their daily chores and kept up with their studies.

And you were no exception to that, so Lucifer didn’t think twice about it when he asked you to do a simple chore.

But you woke up on the wrong side of the bed, it was very early in the morning, and you weren’t in the mood. All you wanted was to eat your breakfast in peace. You just wanted a moment of silence before you had to go to school.

“Y/N, you need to clean your bedroom after you get home from RAD today,” Lucifer stated simply, continuing to eat his breakfast. It was a simple request that certainly didn’t warrant a sassy response. But it was the straw that broke the camel’s back and a sassy response is exactly what he got.

You had a stoic expression on your face, barely missing a beat before you replied with, “And you and Lord Diavolo need to kiss already but neither of those things are going to happen so let’s not talk about it at 6 am.”

You hadn’t looked up from your plate yet, but you could imagine the shocked expressions on everyone’s faces. Especially Lucifer’s.

“Well, we’ve gotta get to RAD,” Mammon stated, practically pulling you up from your chair. He had seen that look on Lucifer’s face too many times and he knew exactly what followed afterwards. 

The other brothers quickly joined the two of you. Lucifer was not used to being defied and he was most certainly not going to be happy with the way you talked back to him.

The brothers found it amusing nonetheless. A teenager standing up to Lucifer of all people. And you didn’t even have a look of fear in your eyes!

Lucifer loved having you around. You were a welcome addition to the family. But he definitely got the brunt of your witty remarks and side comments.

And he had no idea how to handle it. It’s not like he could punish you like he did his brothers. You would barely survive half of them.

For once in his life Lucifer felt defeated…by a teenager.

Mammon still tries to impress you as a teenager. But not in the same way. He wants to come off as the “cool” brother. The one that will let you stay out later than you’re supposed to, and take you for rides in his car, blasting music. 

Mammon loved it. Having you around made him want to be a good role model despite his spending tendencies.

He would still be a bit possessive of you. Only because he doesn’t want his brothers influencing you. Only he was allowed to show you things around the Devildom.

He wanted you to like everything he liked and hate everything he did. Movies? You liked the classic Devildom action movies, right? You didn’t like horror movies, right?!

And you loved going gambling with him, right? Didn’t you think it was so fun watching him win? Of course, he had to lie about your age to get you through the doors of the casino. But that just added to the fun of it.

And please don’t ever mention anything about witches to either of you. You both hated them with a passion. At least, Mammon will say that if someone ever did bring up the “w” word.

The truth is, that Mammon felt guilty about leaving that little girl he had found with the witches. It was for the best that she stayed up there in the human world. But, he couldn’t help but wonder if he would have been able to take care of her himself. 

And although you were more like another sibling than a child to Mammon, he wanted the chance to start redeeming himself. For the first time in his life, he wanted to be responsible for someone. Please be his mini-me.

But being responsible meant that sometimes he had to be more assertive than fun. Especially if you were putting yourself in danger.

You didn’t think you were. You thought that going out with Simeon and Solomon would be fine. You were just hanging out around town for a bit before heading back to the House of Lamentation.

But, you forgot to text the brothers that you were with them and when you hadn’t gotten home in time, Mammon snapped.

Worry filled his heart and directed his mind.

When he finally found you in town with Simeon and Solomon, relief came in waves. 

He took you back to the House of Lamentation, despite your protests. And, as soon as you were back, Mammon decided to give you a lecture. He had learned how to do it from the best, after all.

“What do ya think you were doing? You almost gave me a heart attack,” Mammon stated as you began walking to your room.

“We were just walking around town. Don’t you trust Solomon and Simeon?” you questioned, crossing your arms over your chest as you stood outside your bedroom door.

“I don’t trust ya out there by yourself without one of us to protect ya,” Mammon countered.

He didn’t mean it to come out the way it did. He was just worried about you. But, you were angry with his words. You were frustrated that he was treating you like a child so you replied with the first thing that came to your mind.

“Your whole thing is being a crow in a flesh suit. I really don’t want to listen to someone who would stop everything that’s happening in their life to pick up something shiny from off the ground.”

You entered your room before he could respond and closed the door on his face. Mammon stood there in shock while Levi and Asmo began snickering in the background. They couldn’t deny the truth in your words.

Mammon was stubborn when he wanted to be and that left the two of you giving each other the silent treatment. Just like he would do with any of his other siblings.

But, eventually, he apologized. Especially when he saw you growing closer to his other brothers in his absence.

Please forgive him. All of his other brothers have told them they wished he wasn’t their brother or part of their family. He can’t handle hearing that from you too.

If you were a teenager who liked going out and doing things on a regular basis, you and Levi probably wouldn’t have a lot in common. And it would be hard to spend time with him.

But, if you were a teenager who liked watching anime and playing video games, you and Levi would be best friends. 

He was still wary of you at first. After all, you were a normie. And even if you were a teenage normie, he could never be too careful.

He’ll slowly open up to you though. If you impress him with your own otaku skills, the process will be even faster. Deep down, Levi just wants a friend who likes the same things he likes.

He wanted someone he could talk to. Someone who wouldn’t brush him off or tell them that he wasn’t making any sense.

Levi will invite you over to play games with him often. He enjoys playing with someone who is actually competent.

But even he isn’t safe from how sassy you could be. And if you and Levi played a game against each other, your competitive side came out and so did the sassy comments on both sides.

Levi had heard of a fighting game that was very popular up in the human world and he was dying to try it. He wanted to know how it compared to the fighting games that they have in the Devildom.

Let the trash-talking commence.

You’ll surprise Levi with the first couple of things you say. But he’ll quickly begin to fight back with his own remarks. Both of you fight diligently with both your words and the controllers.

And, when you start winning, Levi’s jealousy starts getting the better of him. He’ll tell you things like “You’re cheating” or “It’s because it’s a game from the human world.”

“Come on, Levi, just admit you’re not as skilled as me in video games,” you retorted. His eyes were now glowing as his fingers were pushing the buttons on the controller rapidly. He had to win.

“I won!” you exclaimed with a proud smile. That smile faltered though when you saw Levi’s expression. A dark aura surrounded him as he stated in a low voice, “I want a rematch.”

“Yeah, and I want a million dollars. But right now I don’t feel like beating an old man who’s lost his reaction time at a videogame…again,” you replied, before getting up and leaving.

Levi let out a small gasp as you left the room. Old man?! I mean, he technically was considering he was at least a few centuries old. But he has not lost his reaction time!! How could you say something so rude to him? He just needed practice, that was all.

Levi will pester you for the next few days, begging you to play with him. He’ll tell you his reaction time is better and that he won’t lose. He won’t give up until you either tell him that you think he’s a great gamer or until he beats you in the game. 

Satan will take it upon himself to be the one who helps you with all of your studies. He usually won’t be the one who encourages you to neglect your education in favor of having some fun.

He would rather ensure your success. He wants you to be at the top of the class, with his help. He just wanted the best for you. And he wanted to rub it in Lucifer’s face later.

He’ll always suggest the two of you have tutoring sessions where he can help make sure you understand the lessons that are being taught.

He’ll stay late after class or show up early. He’ll meet you at the library or at the cafe. Wherever you would agree to meet him.

And although you appreciated him trying to help you, sometimes it was a bit much. Especially when it was early in the morning.

Which is exactly when Satan decided to have your latest study session. You were barely awake and hadn’t had any food or coffee yet.

You were sitting at a table, your books opened in front of you as Satan went on a rant about one of the lessons. Your mind was barely keeping up with what he was saying.

All you wanted to do was go back to bed, but Satan’s rant was never-ending as he tried explaining all the intricacies of the subject you were studying. 

You finally had enough when you had to catch yourself from falling out of your chair after you had accidentally fallen asleep.

“Okay, Satan, look I love you, but I hardly remember the difference between a verb and a noun so I have no idea what the actual fuck you are saying with your mouth and your face right now,” you stated.

Satan was taken aback at your sudden outburst. His eyes were wide as he suddenly took in your tired look. Normally, he would argue that it’s important to study. But, today he responded with, “We can pick this up later.”

You were thankful that you were finally able to return to your room and Satan was more careful about planning your study sessions. He’ll do his best not to overwhelm you again. 

Also, don’t think Satan was only serious around you. Satan had a very playful nature, especially when it came to Lucifer. And you were the perfect vessel for some of his pranks.

Satan knew that Lucifer couldn’t do anything towards you so he would beg you to be part of his pranks that he and Belphie would play on Lucifer. You were an integral part of the Anti-Lucifer league after all.

Sometimes you were bait, luring Lucifer into staying in a specific spot for too long. Sometimes, you were the one who actually set off the prank while Satan or Belphie distracted the eldest.

It hardly ever worked. Lucifer almost always knew what the three of you were up to. But it didn’t stop any of you from trying.

Satan thoroughly enjoyed having you there to help him. He believed you fit in with the family perfectly. 

He also related to you the most as you were both considered “late-comers” to the party. Neither of you had been angels, and although you weren’t a demon, Satan still felt like he connected with you.

You never made him feel like you were better than him or like he wasn’t his own person and he was thankful to have a sibling like that.

Asmo thinks you are the most adorable thing in the world. He was the first one to dote on you out of all his brothers. How could he not?

Asmo is very accepting of you from the start and thinks of you as family almost right away.

He’s like Mammon in the sense that he wants to be the one to show you around the Devildom and teach you all the tricks he knows.

He wants to show you how to charm people and get them under your spell. Of course, he has to approve of the person you’re trying to charm and he’ll only let it go so far.

He’s the Avatar of Lust - but NO PDA. You were too young for that and these were demons after all. He didn’t trust a single one of them.

He’ll only let you try your charm on age-appropriate people and only until you have them hooked so that you know how to do it. Then, he’ll charm the person to go away himself. 

You better believe he also wanted to dress you up in all of the outfits in the Devildom. He loved taking pictures of you and posting them on Devilgram with captions like “Look at my lovely sibling! Aren’t they cutest?!”

But it could be overwhelming sometimes. The constant shopping trips and photo ops. The constant fashion shows and meeting new people all the time.

Adjusting to the Devildom was a task on its own and there were times when you just needed to be alone and recharge your social battery. Times when you just needed some peace and quiet.

You were trying on the sixth outfit of the night in Asmo’s bedroom. You had asked if you could be done on outfit number three. All you wanted to do was go to your room and relax.

Asmo promised the two of you would be done soon, but you saw no end in sight.

“Only a few more,” Asmo told you, shoving his arms full of clothes.

You let out a groan and Asmo turned to face you. You finally let the words you’d been holding back fly out of your mouth.

“Asmo, I know you’re too glam to give a damn, but I’m not your personal mannequin and all I want to do is lay down and relax!” you shouted, feeling relieved as you finally spoke the truth that was weighing you down.

Asmo isn’t used to you snapping at him like this, so he’ll give you some time to calm down. He doesn’t want to keep pushing your buttons.

Once you start talking to him again, he’ll want to do a spa day with you instead of going shopping. He’ll pay more attention to your needs and he won’t force you into doing anything you don’t want to do.

At the end of the day, Asmo is a very caring sibling and only wants the best for his family.

The first time Beel saw you, he couldn’t help but think about how much you reminded him of Lilith.

It was simple things. Things he noticed just from where he was standing in the assembly hall when you first came to the Devildom.

Your big and innocent eyes. Your gentle and loving smile. You were so full of life, just like she was.

It didn’t take long for Beel to take you under his wing and decide to protect you. He acted like an older sibling and he was always there for you.

If you were upset, he’d find a way to cheer you up. If you were bored, he’d try to entertain you. If you were hungry - he knew just the cure!

When he found out that you had a connection to Lilith, Beel was ecstatic. It wasn’t your connection to Lilith that made Beel love you more. You were your own person and he’d never compare you to his little sister.

It was the fact that your connection to Lilith meant that you truly were part of the family. That you belonged no matter what obstacles stood in the way. It didn’t matter if you were human - he would always think of you as family.

When Belphie attacked you and killed you, Beel really thought he failed. He was plagued with images of Lilith dying. Belphie didn’t understand what he was doing - how Beel felt about you.

He didn’t understand how badly it hurt Beel to watch someone he thought of as a younger sibling die in front of him - again. 

When he saw that you were alive he had never felt more relieved. He promised you he would never let anything happen to you again. That he would protect you like any good big brother would.

And he was the perfect older sibling - for the most part. 

Lucifer had taken you up to the human world for a task. While you were up there, he allowed you to get whatever you wanted and bring it back down to Devildom.

You shopped around for a bit until you saw a supply of food that you used to eat all of the time. Food that reminded you of your childhood.

You immediately got it and brought it back with you.

You wanted to shower before you ate it because it had been a long day but when you returned to the kitchen, you were heartbroken at the sight in front of you.

Beel had eaten all of it! You didn’t even get to have a single bite of it. You could feel the emotions building up in you. Mostly because of the nostalgia that came with the food.

“Beel,” you stated, pausing for a moment to stabilize your wavering voice. “How could you?” you asked.

Beel looked up innocently from the food, a questioning look. He didn’t have the slightest clue what he did wrong.

“I get that you're a bottomless pit and that you're practically Kirby on steroids. But can't you just for once think about what you're eating before you eat it!” you stated before storming off.

The next day, Beel made sure to get the same food for you and brought it to your room as an apology.

He would do his best to never eat your food without asking again because he realized teenagers could be scary when they were hangry.

Belphie obviously doesn’t have a good first impression of you. You had never done anything to him, he just innately hated you because of the fact that you were human.

He attacked you with no remorse until he saw how it affected his brothers. They were so upset about losing you and he couldn’t comprehend why.

He saw the way they embraced you when they found out you were alive and the scene triggered something in his brain. A memory of someone he loved the same way.

Belphie didn’t attack you again, despite his instincts telling him to do so. He was curious to see what all the fuss was about. 

Things between you and Belphie were tense for a while. You knew that he hated you because you were a human. But it’s not like you could do anything about it. There was no way for you to change your race, and even if there was, you wouldn’t do it just to appease Belphie.

Like Beel, the more time he spent around you, the more he saw you as a younger sibling.

He would protect you like an older brother, but he was the least serious out of all the demon brothers.

Your carefree nature was one of the things he adored. He enjoyed watching you be improper in front of Diavolo and the way it made Lucifer look like he was going to pop a blood vessel.

The way you talked back to Lucifer also entertained him. It was something all of the brothers wanted to do at one point or another, but they didn’t have the luxury to do so.

Yet you were just a teenage human and you dared to stand up to the Morningstar himself.

The first time you did it, Belphie immediately deemed you a worthy member of the Anti-Lucifer League. 

He had so much fun pranking Lucifer with you and Satan and he was thankful that you had brought him closer to the fourth-eldest.

He never once judged you for your sass or asked you to tone it down. He loved it because he could be just as witty when he wanted to be.

He also never thought that your sass would be directed towards him.

That was until you got caught in the crossfires of one of their pranks. 

Satan and Belphie had neglected to tell you that they had placed a cursed object in the living room, expecting Lucifer to pick it up. You found it first though.

The second you touched it, your entire body immediately froze and you were unable to move or speak.

Belphie and Satan came in with proud smiles on their faces until they saw that the person they had cursed was you.

They immediately rushed to your aid and Satan began saying spell after spell to try and undo the magic. 

Lucifer had entered the scene at some point and was holding back his scolding until after Satan had remedied the situation.

As soon as you were free you turned to all three men and stated, “I know this was your idea, Belphegor. I’ve had it with all the pranks. They’re silly, they take a ton of time to prepare and they never even actually hit Lucifer! It always fails or hits whoever else happens to fall for it.”

“Satan, I know that you don’t like Lucifer because you were born from him, but the only one who actually makes a big deal out of it is you! And Belphie, you are the youngest brother! Everyone dotes on you so stop acting like Carrie at the prom because you fit in just fine. And Lucifer, for the love of all things would it kill you to tell your brothers that you love them at least once in a while so that I don’t have to suffer through pranks like these anymore!”

At some point, your rant had attracted the other members of the House of Lamentation who were all looking at you with wide eyes.

You were a sassy human, but you were their human. You were part of their family and you did fit right in. They were proud to call you their human.

Especially Belphie who was somewhat glad that not even he was safe from your rants when you had been pushed to your limit.

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Day 20: written but never sent

Masterlist flufftober 🎃

Reblog if you liked it!

Spencer greatly enjoyed handwriting. Electronic devices irritated him to no end, as he felt that typing on them was so impersonal and trivial. Handwriting required careful thought, reflecting desires and passions in the shape of the letters, and capturing feelings in the prose... everything written by hand represented something intimate, at least to him.

That’s why, when he got a pen pal, it was inevitable that he would start developing feelings. He had contacted you as part of a school assignment, as both of you were studying the same Ph.D. in linguistics, and one of the tasks was to analyze how different people express themselves in writing.

All he had was your name and address, the strictly necessary information to send a letter. He was the first to send one, sharing some details about himself, why he was pursuing the degree, the work he did, and how he would apply the knowledge he was acquiring.

He patiently waited for your response, which arrived a week later in a small brown paper envelope with a maroon stamp. Your letter didn’t seem like just a required response to fulfill the assignment. You sounded genuinely interested in what he had shared, and you addressed every point he had mentioned.

What surprised him the most was that at the end, you talked about books he had mentioned and ended with a question:

Have you read The Resilience of Language? It's a great book that could help you a lot. I highly recommend it! Best regards, nice to meet you.

There was a question at the end. The answer was no, Spencer hadn’t read that book. He could have simply stopped there, taking your recommendation and using your letter to complete his assignment. But something inside him wasn’t content to just end the communication there; he thought it would be rude not to offer a reply. So, as soon as he received your letter, he took one of his notebooks to write back.

Spencer used one of his gel pens with a fine tip and deep pigmentation. If someone were observing him, they could say that all these actions reflected a sense of importance: selecting the paper, his best pen, carefully crafting his handwriting—all of this added weight to the act.

He sent the letter, still unsure, but hopeful nonetheless. He was amazed when he arrived at the building and found another letter in his mailbox, with the same characteristics as the previous week.

A year had passed since then.

Every week, without fail, you exchanged letters. By now, he knew you better than he had ever known anyone, as the semi-anonymity provided an extra layer of trust for sharing everything that had happened during your week. You started by exchanging generalities, talking about books, and discussing the Ph.D. classes. Slowly, you began to share less trivial things: how the place where you lived was, your job, elements of your identity.

In recent months, you were writing to each other as if you were close friends.

My migraines have improved, in case you’re wondering, and this week at work has been less demanding than usual. We only handled a fairly light case (if you can even call it that in my line of work), and I had time to analyze some of the works you recommended. How’s everything going with that guy at work?

When Spencer finished, he hesitated about how to sign the letter. At first, he would send you his regards, write some polite expression, or simply wish you a good day. But now, he felt the need to sign off differently.

Affectionately, Spencer.

He didn’t think you would notice, just a gesture of the growing trust between you. He patiently waited for the postman to deliver your reply, and after several days, he eagerly read your words on the paper.

I’m disappointed about the guy. Turns out he’s a jerk, you know? Sometimes I wish I could meet someone who can genuinely love me, without focusing solely on the physical. Maybe it’s bold of me to say that, but I think you understand. I want a connection that comes from appreciating who I am, with someone who shares my interests, someone respectful, intelligent... but I won’t bore you with my romantic nonsense. The point is, I’m not dating anyone at the moment. I’m focusing on our Ph.D., haha. I hope you’re doing well, and I look forward to your reply!

However, he was quite surprised when he read the signature that followed your name.

Yours sincerely…

Had you signed that way in response to the dedication in his letter? Something felt strange within him, and his chest warmed with an unfamiliar feeling.

For a moment, he wondered if there was any possibility that he could meet the expectations of the special person you described, and when he realized he was imagining himself with you in that kind of scenario, he felt embarrassed.

It was ridiculous to think about. You didn’t even know each other, and you lived miles away, you were just friends who had taken a school assignment too far.

Time passed, and the signatures grew more affectionate, more personal… just like the content of the letters. It got to the point where he couldn’t deny it anymore: he was in love.

Though after realizing it, he spent a long time wondering what he should do with that feeling. Weeks passed before he came to a decision.

Spencer was returning from Maine when he decided to finally write to you. He was sitting on the plane, with his notebook in front of him, and his mind as blank as the page.

“What are you struggling to write, Reid?” Emily asked, sitting beside him “You’ve been staring at that notebook for ten minutes without the pen touching the paper.”

“It’s nothing,” he murmured, trying to downplay it. He didn’t want to talk about it, not with Emily, not with anyone.

A couple of hours later, with a pile of crumpled-up drafts beside him, he finally managed to write something:

I can’t start this letter without first telling you how much I’ve come to value our correspondence. For over a year, our written conversations have become one of the most important constants in my life. Each week, I eagerly await your letters, and every one of them brings me a pause in the middle of my routine: a space of calm where our words connect in ways I never imagined possible. I’ve read and reread your letters so many times that, sometimes, I feel like I know them by heart. Even so, I always discover something new in your words: an idea that eluded me before, an emotion that makes more sense over time, or a reflection that sheds new light on my own experience. Although we’ve never met in person, I feel like I know you better than many people I speak to face-to-face. Is that strange? Maybe it is, but the truth is that there’s something about the depth of our conversations that transcends physical distance. All this time, I’ve tried to rationalize what you mean to me, but there are things that can’t be measured or analyzed logically, no matter how hard I try. What I want to tell you —and what has taken me so long to write—is that I’ve fallen in love with you. At first, I wasn’t sure what this feeling was. I thought it was just admiration or gratitude for the friendship we’ve cultivated, but with each letter, with each shared thought, I realized it was something deeper. I love you, not just for what you share with me, but for who you are. For the way you see the world, with such clarity and empathy. For your insatiable curiosity, for your unique way of finding beauty in the smallest details. I don’t want this confession to make you uncomfortable or push you away. I’ll understand if you don’t feel the same, and I’ll consider myself lucky just to have known you in this way. But I couldn’t go on without being honest with you. I hope that, whatever your response may be, we can remain the same two friends who have shared so much through these pages. With all my love, and praying to be able to be yours, Spencer.

He kept the written words as if they were a treasure, feeling his heart race every time he thought about that secret tucked away in an envelope on his desk. Unfortunately, that letter never saw the light of day, all because of his fear of losing who might have been the best friend he had ever had in his life.

[tinydefector]

Any chance we are going to get that Ratchet x Ambassador x Drift nsfw in the human effects series? 👀

First contact fifth kind - Human effects

Warnings: NSFW, smut, fingerings, blowjob, sex, threesome

Word count: 2.9k

Human effects Masterlist

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Request are open read pinned post for rules.

__________________

It's only a cycle later when Ratchet runs I to the Ambassador, they had stopped by for a mandatory check up as normal. But one thing is for sure Ratchet can't take his optics off them after everything Drift has said. Not to mention he now knew where his old servos had been carted off too.

Ratchet cycled a ventilation, fixing the Ambassador with an intent stare as he scanned their vitals. Never before had this routine check-up held such.. layered intrigue.

"So tell me, Ambassador - enjoying your new accessories?" He inquired casually, fighting a smirk as he read over their hearts beats per minute.

They tense up slightly at the question, eyes shooting around. "Who told you?" They ask rather hushed and panicked, not really expecting to get caught out so soon over the pin-up photos. They don't see First Aid or Ambulon but doesn't mean they aren't around listening in.

Ratchet's optics glinted knowingly. "Let's just say a certain wandering conjunx of mine knows these old servos better than most," he replied with a chuckle. "No need for alarm - your secret's safe with us. In fact..."

Trailing off, he leaned down slightly dropping his vocalizer to an intimate growl. "Drift and I found your... artistic pursuits rather inspiring."

They sit there stunned, almost baffled at how bold Ratchet is in his flirtation. "Shit Ratchet im sorry, i didn't mean to cause any issues between you and Drift!" They stammer out in panic. Ratchet shakes his head with a smile. "Calm yourself ambassador, Let's just say Drift is as enthusiastic about said photos."

His digit tip their chin softly, ghosting feather-light over delicate flesh. "And while I try to maintain propriety in my official duties, shall we say your photoshoot piqued the interests of more... intimate nature."

Venting softly, his optics roamed the Ambassador's flustered face. "Although Drift brought up a proposition that I doubt he has the courage to ask you, and I'm less prone to the detection of rejection. So I'd like to ask if you would be interested in spending a night with us " His words are smooth with each letter as he inquires. "I fully understand if you're not interested but it never hurts To ask?"

They go quiet for a moment, thoughts rushing as they take in his proposal, Ratchet was rather bold but they had never known the medic to dance around anything. " I don't know if I can," they start. "I'm the human liaison for your people with earth with supplies not to mention your also CMO plus..." they trail off only for Ratchet to stop them.

"I understand your reservations, Ambassador," he soothed, "Such fraternisation could complicate matters, were it to become public knowledge."

His thumb stroked soothing circles on their thigh. Venting softly, his optics flickering back to their eyes. "I simply wished to extend the offer, given your... artistic interests seemed to mirror ours, i can promise that if you wish it to me a one time thing we understand you're not obligated to anything you do not wish. And as your medic I would rather know that you're at least safe, there are a rather large number of mechs on ship who are very hung up over you."

They bit their thinking, they were interested, hell Ratchet had been the first to actually ask and be sincere about it and understand the risk, he was most likely the best choice in case something went wrong. "If.. if I agree, it has to stay on the down low I can't have it getting back to my superiors" they reply softly. "I value my job here on the Lost Light with cordoning deals between different outpost and my team"

Ratchet inclined his helm respectfully. "Your position and duties, of course, take priority. You have my word - whatever transpires between us will remain strictly confidential. If I may. Would it help if I sent Drift a comm to let him know so we can keep it a confidential matter?" It earns him a nod from them.

//The Ambassador has agreed to our proposition, though with utmost discretion//

Drift's reply came swift which had Ratchet nearly chuckling. //understood, no discussion no different to Rodimus’ visits// he replies.

"Would after your shift suit you? We would make certain your visit is kept on the down low, and see you safely back with no one the wiser." It was a rather warm invitation, the promise of easing tension

"You make a rather tempting offer Ratchet, you do understand there's probably a lot of stuff you won't be able to do with me due to our size and differences?" They inquire, making sure he knew just what he was getting into. Ratchet chuckled softly. " Drift and I are no strangers to creative interfacing, whatever the partner, we are happy to take things at your pace so that you feel comfortable."

He stroked their shoulder reassuringly. "But your limits and comfort take priority. We'll set rules later. Join us after your shift, just knock and one of us will answer."

"I'll see you later then" they state softly finishing up their appointment and walk off rather jittery, not knowing if they would be able to handle the rest of their shift after the feeling of Ratchet’s digits against their body. They give him a quick glance before disappearing down the halls.

//You are a terrible influence, you know,// Ratchet shoots back at Drift which earns him another chipped comm message.

//What can I say? I know your appetites as well as my own, my love. And don't think you're so innocent party sirens// it earns a small chuckle from Ratchet and he busies himself with reading the ambassadors charts and taking down the information.

It's much later that they had planned when they found themself standing outside Ratchet and Drift's Hab suite, nervously looking up and down the hall, they felt like a teenager about to get in trouble sneaking out. Eventually they work up the courage to knock quickly.

Ratchet opens the door quickly ushering them in. “Hello my dear.” he said softly

"Hi," they state nervously. Looking around again to make sure no one was around as they quickly darted into the room. Drift looks up with a smile as he sees them, "Have a seat, make yourself comfortable," Ratchet encouraged. "Can I offer you anything - energon?" Drift slipped close.

"I'd say a strong alcohol drink but I doubt either of you have anything like that here" they state while moving into the hab, eyes flicking around to see the different stuff around the place, it felt homey compared to what they were expecting. "Could you help me up so I can sit?" Drift stooped, gathering their considerably smaller form into his arms with utmost care. Rising slowly, Drift turned and took a seated position on the berth's edge, settling the Ambassador comfortably down.

Beside them, Ratchet grumbles softly to himself “forgive me i completely forgot” he states, he knew he was forgetting something. “No, no it's all good” they call out quickly while trying to make it not a big deal.

"Sorry, sorry, I'm making this Awkward. I don't really know where to start, I don't know if you do things differently compared to humans so I don't really know what to do" they finally admit. And it makes both Drift and Ratchet look at each other for a moment.

"Then allow us to guide you," Drift rumbled reassuringly. Gently cupping their face in his servo, he met their eyes with caring intent. "A kiss requires no special skills" he leaned closer, aiming not to overwhelm as he soft pressed his metallic lips to theirs. Pulling back slightly after a moment, he searched their expression for any sign of discomfort.

They lean into the kiss, the tension in their body fading as their lips move against Drift's. When they pull away they look half dazed from the kiss. "Um woah, I wasn't expecting that" they nearly whisper. Drift let out a low, pleased hum. His optics glowed softly in the low lighting.

"A good kiss often has that effect," he chuckled warmly. Beside them, Ratchet let out an approving hum, servos tracing teasing patterns against them The berth seemed to dip slightly as the two mech made themself comfortable. They shutter softly as the two sets of servos move against their body pressing them back on the berth. “Let us know if you want to stop at any point, just say the word” Ratchet purred as he moves closer.

"I will. I didn't think Cybertronians kissed" they hummed softly. "Mm, kissing is not a typical Cybertronian act, but we do tend to adopt practices from other species" Drift admitted, servo gliding soothing presses down their stomach. Ratchet teasingly brushes along their inner arms. "And it seems we've discovered a particularly enjoyable adaptation."

They gasp softly as Ratchet tilts their chin up and gently pulls them into a kiss, a soft moan leaves them as Drift presses a kiss to the side of their throat. Their hands shooting up to Ratchet's face plate tracing along the ridges. Ratchet purred softly in approval as they melted into his kiss.

Drift vented hot against their skin, satisfied at drawing such sweet sound from their lips He crooned soft encouragement, servos gliding light as breath across heated skin. Pulling back slowly, Ratchet met their eyes with the kind of heat that forged stars. "What lovely music you make."

His digits found divots of their hips, rubbing soft circles into them. Drift nibbled teasing kisses along their shoulder as he began removing their clothing. They slowly melt into each touch, little whines leaving them. The feeling of the two sets of servos against their body. "Mm didn't take either of you for being into this" they try to joke to not feel as flustered.

Ratchet huffed a laugh against their neck as he pressed a kiss to it. "When one lives as long as we, you develop a lot of interests sweetpark."

"Few would guess how creative we get, we tend to keep it on the downl ow," the former monk mused silkily against their ear.

His servo caressed down their flank as he slowly discarded their pants, thumb tracing the seam between thigh and hip. Drift nibbled their jaw, playfully making sure not to hurt them.

Another gasp leaves them as cold servos trace warm skin as Drift traces their body. They melt into each touch. "Mmm" they whine softly, letting the two mechs admire and inspect their frame.

Ratchet crooned approval, his own servos following the curves and lines of their upper body. "So beautiful," the medic praised against parted lips, Ratchet let out a keenly interested noise at their sprawled beauty, the Ambassador's scents flooded his sensor net. His optics roved hungrily over bared flesh, mapping each dip and swell.

Drift's fans whirred loudly beside him. "Fascinating," Ratchet purred, digits dipping to explore secret crevices and sensitive areas with clinical precision. He met his conjunx's hungry optics, understanding all too well.

A loud moan leaves them as their back arches, when Ratchet's digits brush against their sex, they pressing back against the digits "fuck... that feels good, Ratchet, Drift " they call out.

Ratchet hums in delight, servo moving further down for a moment. His optics flicker for a moment before he lifts his servos for Drift. The other Cybertronian without even needing to be asked slowly takes Ratchet's digits into his mouth, slowly lathering them with lubricant, pulling back after running his glossa over them.

A squeal nearly leaves the Ambassador when Ratchet presses them back between their thighs running back down to their sex. "Exquisite," Drift praised, moving down to suck a mark into their side. Ratchet rumbled again, optics blown wide and fiery as he stroked them open expertly. "Our species may share more in common that anticipated, it seems."

He pressed his digit very slowly into them. Stilling for a moment before thrusting with curling precision. “Is this alright, nothing hurts?” he inquired, still being wary of the differences.

“Yes, feels really good” they stutter, eyes falling closed as their hand moves to guild Ratchet. It isn't long before ratchet presses a second into them, scissoring and opening them up.

"Would you like more?" he purred against their panting mouth. "Mmmm yes, please!" They nearly beg, with each thrust of Ratchet's digits, hips moving to grind back against them. "Fuck... Ratchet " they whine.

Drift lets out a keen growl, his plating swelling as his spike pressurised under his panel, finally giving way. One of his servos wraps around his spike as he quickly strokes it, moaning loudly as he pleasures himself to the view in front of him.

Ratchet groaned near incoherent static, as he withdrew his soaked digits, enjoying their bereft mewl. “Drift” he calls moving back enough to pull his conjunx into a kiss. The Ambassador sits up to watch the two as Ratchet runs his glossa down Drift's frame as he drops to his knee plating. Grabbing Drift's Hips and pulling him forward until his intake is wrapped around Drift's spike.

Drift's knee joints nearly buckle as he grabs Ratchet's helm. The medic curved one servo around its hot girth as both his mouth and servo moved in Sync. He pulls back after a moment, wiping his mouth before looking at the Ambassador. “Is this still alright?” He asked, earning an eager nod from them.

Drift moves stationing himself on the berth between their legs, spike resting against their stomach. “You'll let us know if it hurts or feels off, we don't want to hurt you” Drift checks again. “I'll let you know if it gets too much” they confirm.

They arch and moan out loudly as Drift slowly presses into them, hips shuttering and bucking as the ex con holds them still trying to take it slow. “Fuck! Drift!” They whine, trying desperately to grind back against him. “Just wait sweetspark” he coos softly as Ratchet slowly slinks around Drift.

His servos grip Drift's hips as his spike presses into Drift's valve, the moment the have all adjusted Ratchet begins softly thrusting, in turn making drift grind into the Ambassador. Sounds of strained venting and rhythmic pistoning hydraulics filled the room. Drift held them close, murmuring quiet praises and encouragement as Ratchet steadily plundered his valve from behind.

"Frag, you're so soft and tight?" Drift vented roughly almost whining to the Ambassador. Rolling his hips in subtle counterpoint to Ratchet's merciless pace. Ratchet nipped a warning at his neck cables, grinning fiercely.

It doesn't take long for the ambassador to orgasm, the sheer size and texture of drift has their body shuttering and clenching on drifts spike as they cry out loudly, bucking and keening as they grab onto anything they can. Drift’s sensory net sang with the echoes of their mingled ecstasy. He's quick to pull away before his overload hits, sagging on the berth above them as his fans blast air as his frame tries to cool down.

Above, Ratchet rolled his shoulder wheels in a sated stretch before glancing down at their joined frames. His field swept with warm waves of affection and approval at the sight of his conjunx so blissed out. His optics shift to the Ambassador laying there panting.

"Does anything hurt, dizziness, nausea" Ratchet asked, vocalizer hoarse but tone mellow. As the two mechs slowly untangle themselves from each other and the ambassador, Ratchet is quick to fetch water for them while Drift begins pulling up a blanket for the ambassador. "I'm alright, Where did you get this?" They ask with a sly smile.

Ratchet vented a soft chuckle as he passed them the water. "always stock essential supplies," he told them warmly. Catching Drift's amused field, he quipped "Though this one seems to collect oddities even I've never seen."

Drift huffed a mock grumble, tucking a warm sheet around the ambassador's frame with utmost care. "Keeps things interesting, at least. Can't fault a mech for having hobbies." Drift mumbles as he crawls onto the berth beside the ambassador, lightly tracing their face.

Ratchet joins them on the broad berth, settling with relaxed poise. His servo found Drift's, squeezing firmly. The Ambassador pulls the blanket around them, gasping softly as Ratchet lifts them gently to settle them on his Chassis as Drift curls up against Ratchet's side.

"Thank you, this was different, not what I was expecting when experiencing my first ever fifth stage contact " they chuckle softly while snuggling in. Before a light bulb goes off in their head. "Holy shit am I the first human to umm have sexual intercourse with a Cybertronian?"

Ratchet's chassis rumbled a soft laugh beneath them. "Records of encounters between humans and our kind are scarce" he noted clinically. "It's quite possible you've made history tonight, Ambassador." Drift vented softly against their back. Soft whirs and clicks filled the berth as the two mech’s frames slowly reset. the ambassador drifted into a peaceful rest. Ratchet vented softly,"Never thought I'd see the orn a human slept in my berth," he mumbles lightly, Drift draping his frame halfway atop Ratchet's broader one. He brushed a thumb softly over the ambassador's face.

"Glad you brought 'em, all the same." Drift ex vented, relaxing into his partner's embrace. Ratchet squeezed back gently in wordless reply, as his systems slowly shut down into recharge.

_________________

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The Family Disappointments

modern!aegon x fem!reader 

Summary: Drinks with a stranger at an unconventional time brings you some unexpected happiness. Sharing the same feelings and struggles allow you to connect on a deeper level that neither of you were expecting. 

Warnings: 18+ swearing, group therapy, mentions of addiction, drinking, smoking, drug use, oral(f receiving), p in v, unprotected 

Authors Note: i fear i’m projecting my want for a cig, sunfyre the cat? sobbing fr

Word Count: 5.6k 

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

I shift my car into park and sigh as I look at the brick building in front of me. I push my seat back and throw my head against the rest. I take a long drag of my cigarette before tossing it out the window and rolling it back up. I rummage through my purse trying to find the first perfume bottle I can. After a couple spritz I toss it haphazardly back into the bag.

I pull the visor down and look over myself rolling my eyes. My hair is slightly frizzed from the day and my eyes have bags that have been residing there for at least a decade now. I grab my phone and start to climb out of my car. I look up at the building with resentment towards everyone and everything. 

I push the door open and eucalyptus and mint flood my nose. The lights are soft and there are candles lit on the receptionists desk. No matter how much I hate this place I can’t deny that it does offer me some semblance of comfort. The receptionist named Nora smiles at me as I walk up to the desk.

“Lovely as ever to see you, Y/n. How are you doing today?” her soft voice hugs my ears. 

“Wonderful, Nora. Thank you.” I wait for her to finish checking me into the system. 

“Please feel free to grab a snack and drink on your way to the room.” she offers me another smile.

I nod my head and walk down the hall. I stop in a brightly lit room to grab a water before I drag my feet in the direction of the elevators. As I wait for the elevator I wonder if my parents would truly disown me if I were to leave this building and never come back. One on one therapy is one thing but sending me to a group is fucking annoying. I would think they wouldn’t want me to divulge their shitty parenting to a room full of strangers. 

“Well are you getting in?” I shake my head clearing my thoughts and see a man with bright silver hair staring at me from inside the elevator. 

“Yeah, sorry.” I mumble stepping into the elevator. 

“What floor?” his hands hover over the buttons and I see he’s going to the same floor as me. 

“Same as you it seems.” I turn to him and look him over trying to see if I remember him from any past meetings and I do not.

The elevator shoots us up and a sigh leaves my lips once it opens on our floor. I step out and the man continues to walk next to me. I turn the corner and walk into the meeting room. Most of the chairs are still empty and I internally groan wishing I could be one of the people not attending today. I claim a seat near the windows and look out at the busy city below us. 

“I’m Aegon.” the man sits next to me and I turn to him and see he’s looking at me expectantly. 

“Y/n.” I say pulling out my phone not really wanting to have a conversation. 

I hear him sigh next to me and pull out his phone. I’m absentmindedly scrolling through some mind melting social media site and squint when I receive an airdrop. I click it to see what it says and roll my eyes as I see it’s a picture of him smiling and it says “Hi.” in bold lettering. I shake my head trying to hide my smile at his ridiculousness as I turn to him. 

“Seems as if someone craves attention.” I hum with a soft smirk. 

“Is that your official diagnosis?” his smile widens. 

“Maybe some need for validation as well.” I raise my eyebrows and he bursts out laughing causing his eyes to squint. 

“Want to know what I think of you?” he calms his laughter as I see the rest of the room glaring at us. 

“I’m sure you’ll tell me regardless of my answer.” I look at him waiting for his reply. 

“I think-“ 

“Welcome back everyone. We have a new member this week.” Meredith, the therapist, walks into the room silencing us. “Phones away, please.” she smiles sitting down as we all settle and turn our attention to her. 

“Why don’t you introduce yourself to the group and tell us a little about yourself.” Meredith gestures her hand for Aegon to stand. 

“I’m Aegon,” his voice slightly wavers and I tilt my head curious at what happened to the confident man next to me. “Um, I’m here because my parents seem to think I’m struggling and never cease to remind me how I’m the family disgrace. It was either this or a facility.” he shrugs before sinking back down to his seat seeming to find his fingernails more interesting than anything else. 

“That was a good start. We can discuss that more in depth.” his eyes snap up to hers worried. “When you’re ready. For now we will show you how our group flows and if you feel comfortable enough you can join in.” she smiles reassuringly to him. 

The man next to her starts spouting off about his week and I drown out his words. I’ve never felt that this group ever really helped me. I don’t want to sit in a circle telling them my issues as they look at me with sorrow. I don’t want to relate to anyone. I don’t need help. 

Aegon catches my attention as he starts to shake his leg. I look over him and see that his entire demeanor has changed. I scold myself for wanting to know more about him and why he closed in on himself so quickly. I turn my attention back to the group and see Meredith staring at me expectantly. Fuck, it must be my turn to share. 

“I’m sorry?” I tilt my head embarrassed to Meredith. 

“I asked how your week went.” she smiles to me softly. 

“It was fine.” I nod my head. I never share much in here, just enough to not get me kicked out or reprimanded. 

“Anything you struggled with this week?” she prompts me to open up and keep talking. 

“I’m still not sober, my parents are trying to push me into a career or a marriage to get me off their hands.” I sigh shrugging hoping this will be enough. 

“How does that make you feel?” I fucking hate the tone she uses. It always makes me feel so broken and weak. 

“Angry, frustrated,” I shake my head not wanting to speak anymore. 

“How do you think your parents feel?” she pries even more and my temper spikes as I have to steel myself to the chair and not get up and leave the building. 

“I don’t care.” I grit out through my teeth. “Why does what I do matter?” I snap and she looks to me sadly. 

“We can discuss this in our one on one later this week.” she scribbles something out on her  notepad which infuriates me even more. 

I pull my legs up into the chair and stare into the circle zoning out. These are my least favorite days of the week. I hate when people look at me with pity. It’s not what I want. I don’t understand why it’s so fucking bad if I smoke and drink. Sure I can see why the pills were concerning, but I realized that myself and not with the help of any group. 

“I don’t want to share more today. If that’s okay?” Aegons voice pulls me out of bubble. 

“Yes that’s fine, Aegon.” she smiles at him. “I will see you all next week. Hopefully some more of you are willing to share.” she looks at all of us before leaving the room. 

“Do you still want to know what I think?” Aegon turns to me as I place my feet back on the ground. 

“Not really.” I stretch out my legs and stand. 

“I thought we were having fun with our game.” he looks at me with puppy eyes and pouts his lip. 

“I must’ve gotten bored.” I toss over my shoulder as I walk to the elevator and push the button.

“Let me take you out for a drink. There’s a place a couple blocks away.” he says before the doors open and I laugh at the question given our setting. 

“Yeah, fuck it,” I look him over. “Let me just stop at my car.” I say as we make our way out the main doors. 

I sigh looking up at the cloudy day before me. I had no plans today but I didn’t think I would end up day drinking with a man I just met. I’ve been in worse situations so I make my way to my car with no care. I grab my purse and my cigarettes and turn to him. I pull one out for myself and offer him one. 

“Thank you.” he smiles resting it between his teeth before fishing in his pocket and pulling out a lighter. “Here.” he hovers the flame near me and lights my cigarette for me. 

“How chivalrous, Aegon.” I chuckle throwing my pack back into my purse. 

We start down the city street and take in the life around us. The silence isn’t awkward between us but more of us settling down. I always feel so worked up and angsty after group. I feel like I have to mend my brain and emotions back together and I turn to Aegon who seems to be doing the same. We finish our cigarettes as our pace starts to slow. He brings us to a stop in front of large glass doors and I chuckle shaking my head. 

“Are you taking us to the rooftop bar?” he tilts his head at my words. 

“How’d you know?” he holds the door open for me and I walk in. 

“Y/n.” the doorman smiles as I enter. “and Aegon?” he looks next to me and I roll my eyes at the fact that he knows him as well while we walk to the elevator.

“Do you come here often?” he presses the button. 

“Starting with shitty pick up lines now?” I can’t help the laugh the bubbles out of me. 

“I didn’t mean it like that.” his smile matches mine as his eyes light up. 

“I usually come here after group every week. And long before that as well I suppose.” The elevator dings and we step in. “You?” I turn to him before I turn to look out the glass elevator as we shoot into the sky. 

“I’ve been drinking here since I was a teen. Some habits never die.” he shrugs as he looks out the glass with me. 

My ears pop as we continue to rise and the city shrinks below us. We walk out into the dim hallway and he walks us to the outer doors. I inhale deeply once we step out into the breeze. The waitress smiles at both of us and leads us to my usual table on the edge of the rails. 

“The normal? For both of you?” she raises her eyebrows with a smile and I can tell the staff members of the building are absolutely reeling at their two regulars finally coming together. 

“Yes.” we both reply at once and we all laugh before she disappears back inside to get our drinks. 

We lean back in our chairs and study each other. I narrow my eyes at him and he offers me a lopsided smile. The waitress comes back with a tray with two bottles and two glasses. It seems as if we both like to indulge. She sets my glass of wine on the table in front of me and leaves the bottle before doing the same for Aegon who apparently has also gotten the same bottle of wine. She sets a crystal ashtray between us and leaves us once more. 

“I didn’t take you as a wine person.” I hum grabbing my glass by the stem and bringing it to my lips. 

“This is one of the only bars in the city that carry this.” he smiles sipping from his glass. 

“That’s why I try to come here at least once a week. Gods I could drink this place dry.” I moan as I take another sip. 

“If the two of us have been trying with that goal in mind for a while now it shouldn’t be too far off.” he chuckles shaking his head. 

“Let’s hear your diagnosis for me.” he turns his head back to me looking me over. 

“Let me guess your past instead.” he takes a long sip of wine. 

“Mm so now you’re a fortune teller?” I chuckle as he shushes me.

“Let’s see. Large family, well off, high expectations, you never seem to be enough, drugs and alcohol offer you the escape you need but when you finally crawl into bed for the night you think about everything that’s ever happened to you.” his joking tone long gone as I take another sip of wine. 

“Am I that easy to read?” I sigh settling back into my chair. “I had hoped I was more mysterious.” I shake my head smiling. 

“You have the same dead eyes I see in the mirror everyday.” our eyes lock. “And the same expensive taste in wine.” he grabs my bottle to refill my glass. 

“Well then, cheers to being the family disappointments.” I raise my glass. 

“To being the family disappointments, but still looking good while we do it.” he smiles clinking his glass to mine. 

I let out a laugh and finally allow myself to look over him more in depth. His blue eyes are piercing but they fill with light every time he laughs. His cheeks have become slightly flushed from the wine and breeze and I make the mistake of looking at his perfect lips which turn into a smirk as he sees me shamelessly checking him out. I’ve never been a fan of men with longer hair but his messy silver locks that almost reach his shoulders is doing something to me. 

“Do you like what you see?” he leans forward resting his head in his hands. 

“Do you dye your hair?” my eyes continue to look at his head of silver. 

“No this is all me.” his smile grows bigger. 

“I suppose you are handsome.” I hum bringing my lips to my glass once more. 

“I thought it would take more coaxing to get a compliment out of you.” he smiles proudly. 

“It seems as if I’ll have to fish for one from you.” I go to pull my cigarettes out. 

“Oh no, you’re absolute perfection. The second I saw you,” he shakes his head and holds his hand out for a cigarette. 

“Finish the sentence and I’ll see if you deserve one.” a smirk plays at my lips. 

“I wanted to drag you into the closest unoccupied room and fuck the sad out of you.” I can feel my cheeks redden at his brazen words and I hand him a cigarette. 

“Trust that I’ve tried to have the sad fucked out of me.” I shake my head as he leans over to light my cigarette again. 

“Mm, not by me though.” he takes a long drag of his as he licks his lips looking at me. 

“Someone thinks highly of themselves.” I raise my eyebrow looking him over. 

“Ten minutes with my tongue and you’ll forget everything.” I roll my eyes at his words. 

“I’ve been with you and your tongue for the past two hours and all you seem to do is talk.” he laughs loudly at my words. 

“Come to a party with me later.” he looks to me expectantly as we put out our cigarettes on the crystal. 

“Another bottle for you both?” the waitress walks up with a smile. 

“No we’re gunna head out. Charge them both to my room.” he nods at her before turning back to me. 

“Your room?” I tilt my head. 

“I live here. Well my family. We kind of own it.” he shrugs as he finishes off his glass. 

“How is it that I’m only now being graced with your presence.” I look into the sky as I finish the sweet wine. 

“Hearing my doorman call you by name had me thinking the same thing.” he rises and offers me his hand.

“I didn’t say if I was going to the party with you.” I look at his outstretched hand and then up to him. 

“Then at least let me get you a car to drive you back to your place.” he keeps holding his hand out. 

“Fine.” I huff placing my hand in his. 

“Do you wanna smoke first?” he tugs me to the elevator with him. 

“Absolutely.” I nod my head as he presses the button to a couple floors beneath us. 

When the doors open I take in the clean entryway. Ornate decorations and art scatter across the walls to accentuate the chandelier that drips from the ceiling. He keeps pulling me along and slipping us up the main staircase until he’s pulling me into another room. This room is completely different from what I walked into. It’s dim and cluttered. He has posters hung all over the walls and on the far left side there are floor to ceiling windows that offer the only semblance of light. Something brushes against my leg and I yelp looking down. 

“Come to daddy. My golden little beast.” he coos scooping up the cat from my feet. “Oh daddy’s little boy.” he hums kissing the cat in his arms. 

“Daddy?” I try to stifle my giggles. 

“This is Sunfyre, my sweet and perfect son.” he brings him near me and I pet his head affectionately as he purrs between us. 

“He’s absolutely adorable.” my voice soft as he starts to push the cat into my arms. “A handsome little boy.” I scratch behind his ears. 

My eyes squint as Aegon starts to turn on some of the lights. I see that half of this clutter is cat toys and towers and this is more of the cat’s room than it is his. I look around for a place to sit and cuddle the orange cat and settle for his massive bed. We curl up in the center as he purrs kneading the soft blankets. 

“Are you two comfortable?” he asks sprawling on the bed next to us.

“Very.” I hum looking up to his smile. “You could’ve gotten me to your room much faster if you told me you had a cat.” we both shower the cat between us with love. 

“We have more.” his eyes light up. 

“Well don’t hide them from me.” I giggle as he pulls me up from the bed. 

We walk down the hall and stop in front of a set of doors. He knocks and when we don’t get an answer he sighs out in relief. He pushes the door open and peers in and tugs me in behind him. He flicks the lights on and begins calling for the cat. 

“Vhagar, come out you fossil.” I hear a rumble from underneath the bed and out comes an angry looking Maine Coon who stretches before looking over us judgmentally and taking a seat.

“Come here Vhagar.” I squat down to her level and hold my hand out. She sniffs my hand then hisses and darts back under the bed. 

“She’s just old and angry at the world.” he pulls me up and I follow him out of the room. 

“Where are we going now?” I ask trying not to think about how well our hands fit together. 

“We have one more cat.” he knocks on this door and we’re greeted by silence once more and he pushes us into the light room. “Dream come out someone wants to meet you.” his voice soft. 

There’s a chirp and the most beautiful white Persian cat uncurls from the center of the bed. She stretches and walks to us and I melt looking at her beautiful blue eyes. I walk over to her and her coat feels like silk between my fingers. 

“Aren’t you the most beautiful gorgeous girl.” she leans into me and plops back onto the bed. I shower her with attention and turn and see Aegon staring at me. 

“That’s how I feel when I look at you.” I roll my eyes and shush him. 

He reaches for my hand once again and leads me back to his room. I take a seat on his bed and Sunfyre immediately jumps into my lap. I rub his belly as he playfully nips at my fingers. Aegon stands at the end of the bed pouting at me. 

“What’s wrong?” I tilt my head with a soft smile. 

“I want that kind of attention from you.” I chuckle at his words. 

“Get over yourself you baby.” he smiles as I pull him on the bed with us. 

“Here you can spark it.” he puts a joint into my hand. 

“So you can light my cigarettes but not a joint for me.” I pout to him and he reaches over to the table and grabs a lighter and flicks it on. 

I push the tip into the flame and inhale. The familiar sting in the back of my throat lulls me into a more relaxed state. I exhale the smoke out and hand it to Aegon. He turns the TV on for background noise as we pass it back and forth until it’s done. The room is hazy as we lay back on the bed. His cat comes up and lays on my chest and I smile petting him softly. 

“I might purr if you pet me like that.” Aegon turns on his side and looks to me with low lids. 

“Then come here.” he scoots next to me quickly and puts his head next to Sunfyre. 

My nails scrap against his scalp and the moan this man lets out has a blush creeping up my neck. I continue to brush my fingers through his hair which I have to admit is very soft. After a couple minutes of silence he lets out soft snores. I contain my giggles while I keep brushing through his hair. Before I know it I’m drifting off with my hand buried in his hair. 

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

I crack my eyes open and feel my heart quicken as I don’t recognize my surroundings right away. I look down and see that my hand is still tangled in Aegons hair who has turned and is currently watching TV. I slowly start to stroke his hair again and he turns to look up to me. 

“You could have woken me up.” I murmur. 

“I liked being held by you.” his voice equally as quiet. 

“You have very soft hair.” I hum as I give it a soft tug and he leans into my touch. “What time is it?” I yawn. 

“Like two in the morning.” he turns back to watch TV and I look out his windows at the city lit up. 

“I should go move my car.” I shift to get up and he turns back to me worried. 

“Don’t go.” he says furrowing his brows. 

“I thought you had a party anyway.” I brush his hair back before removing my hand. 

“I don’t wanna go if you’re not going.” he sits up with me. 

“Then let’s go move my car and we’ll figure it out from there.” I stretch once I’m standing. 

We slip into the elevator without waking anyone and exit through the lobby quickly. I’m thankful it’s a short walk during this hour although the streets are well lit. Once we make it to my car Aegon stands at the drivers side and I tilt my head. 

“Can I drive?” he smiles. 

“This is my baby, Aegon.” I look to him skeptically. 

“Oh I can tell. It’s beautiful and I’ve always wanted to drive one.” he runs a hand across the trim. 

“You have a license right?” I nibble on my lower lip. 

“Of course, my love.” he smiles holding out his hand. 

“Fine.” I relent dropping the fob into his hand. 

He walks to my passenger side with me and opens the door. I settle into the seat as he walks around to slip into the drivers seat. The engine comes to life and he turns to me and smiles. He shifts it into drive and we’re on the streets in an instant. I watch him as he relaxes into the seat and steals a glance at me. 

“Relax, Y/n.” his hand falls to my thigh. “If anything happens to your car I’ll just buy you a new one.” he offers me a lazy smile. 

“I don’t want a new one.” I squeeze his hand and keep mine on top of his. 

“Don’t worry.” he rubs his thumb on me and my body heats at his touch. 

“Where are we headed?” I look out the window and watch as the city passes us. 

“No where in particular. What would you like to do?” he asks driving us deeper into the city. 

“I don’t know like food and back to yours?” I have no desire to go out or go home. 

“Sounds perfect.” he smiles and I admire him from my passenger seat. 

He takes us to a drive through and we eat in the parking lot which came with a lot of threats to him about not spilling anything. After we’re done we head back to his building. He parks it underground much to my relief. We wait for the elevator in silence and once we enter I turn to look out windows to take in the night lights. As the elevator starts to ascend he turns me towards him. 

“Hm?” I slide my eyes over to his and he places his lips on mine. 

I squeak before melting into him. He slowly licks along my lips and I sigh as his tongue slips into my mouth. The elevator begins to slow and our lips part. We’re both breathing heavily as we look to one another with smiles on our faces. As the doors open a woman with red hair is waiting in front of us. 

“Yes, mother?” Aegons demeanor immediately shrinks and the smile is erased from his face. 

“Are you sober right now?” she sounds almost confused. 

“I am.” he nods his head. 

“Who is this?” she looks to me with a raised eyebrow. 

“Y/n,” he turns to me chewing on the inside of his cheek. 

“Lovely to meet you. I’m sorry of the late hour, if we woke you.” I wince not knowing what to say or do. 

“Do you need something?” Aegon asks and her eyes move back to him. 

“No, have a goodnight.” she looks to both of us before turning and disappearing down the dark hall. 

“I’m sorry.” he turns to me with scrunched brows once he closes the door to his room. 

“If it makes you feel any better my mother is the same.” I offer him a soft smile. 

“It’s never usually that calm.” he picks sunfyre up and hugs him close. 

I walk over to him and brush his hair back running my nails over his scalp. His shoulders seem to relax and I continue the movement. His cat jumps out of his arms and he pulls me into his embrace resting his head on my shoulder.

“It seems as if you need me to fuck the sad out of you.” his arms tighten around me at my words. 

“That was my line.” he chuckles into my neck. 

“Yeah but you’re like some sad fallen angel right now with your glossy eyes and I can’t help myself.” my hands travel up his back until they’re buried in his hair. 

He pulls back and looks at me slightly annoyed but has a smile on his face nonetheless. He captures my lips in a gentle kiss that clashes with his rough hands that start to lift my shirt off. He quickly unclips my bra without breaking our kiss and I groan into his mouth as he squeezes my tender flesh. 

“These are more perfect than I thought.” he groans as he pulls back to look down at them. 

I pull his shirt off before he reattaches his mouth to mine. I groan as our chests mold together. His hands slip down the front of my pants as he swallows my whimpers when he finds my wetness. His fingers slide down my slit before they stop and slowly circle my bud. I moan loudly into his mouth and he chuckles. 

“That feel good?” he continues with his languid speed. 

“Yes,” I nod my head as my breath starts to come out in pants as he begins quicker motions. “Aegon,” I whine as he pulls his hand out. 

He tugs me back to the bed and once I fall back on it he’s pulling off my pants. He crawls between my legs and slowly starts to pull off my panties making me squirm. He groans as he takes in my glistening core and looks up to me with low lids. 

“You said I’d only need ten minutes with your tongue if I remember correctly.” I look down at him spreading my thighs. 

He smiles devilishly before diving between my thighs. I bite my lip from crying out when his tongue licks a thick stripe up my center. His tongue attacks my bud and I arch off the bed gasping. My hand tangles in his hair and he moans against me as I pull. I grind against his face and he pulls me even closer keeping a bruising grip on my thighs. 

“Fuck Aegon,” I whine as my hips jolt against him as his tongue circles my core. 

The second his tongue pushes into me I feel myself ready to explode. The whimpers falling from my mouth only spur him on and my hips jerk on their own accord. I cry out his name as I come across his tongue and he licks me through all of it. He leans back and looks up at my heaving chest. 

“You were right.” I say with my voice still breathy as I sit up and watch him pull off his pants. 

I bite my lip at his length bobbing up against him. My eyes travel up to his face and take in the smile that’s back on it. He crawls back into bed with me and takes my lips. I reach out and wrap my hand around his length and he sighs into my mouth. My thumb collects some of his droplets helping my hand glide smoother. He grunts as I push him back and he looks up to me confused. 

I straddle him and line him up with my dripping core. We both moan as I sink down onto him. His hands grab onto my hips once he’s fully settled in me. I relax around him and begin to slowly move up and down. Once I get more comfortable I start to bounce quicker and his hands move from my hips to my breasts. 

“You were made for me.” he grunts as his hips push up to meet mine.

His name falls from my mouth as I grind into him as he brushes against my sensitive bud. I feel my pleasure coiling as he thrusts up into me hard. I come undone around him and he moans with me stilling inside me. He bucks his hips and flips us over and starts hammering into me. 

“Look at you taking me so good.” his voice rough as he rolls his hips into mine. 

My nails dig into his back as he grunts into my neck. His pace is relentless as I lose myself to him. I arch into him as I feel my pleasure building again. His trusts start to get sloppy as he chases his high. My walls slam around him as he swallows my cry of euphoria as he begins to fill me. He slowly pushes his hips into me pulling a whine from my mouth.

“Fucking perfect.” he slides out of me and lays next to me. 

“I think you succeeded in fucking the sad out of me for the night.” I smile at him and he turns to me with his own. 

“I was done being sad the second I was between your thighs.” he rolls over to me. 

He rests his head against my chest holding me tightly. My fingers brush through his hair allowing my nails to soothe him again. He hums in satisfaction against my chest as we allow our eyes to droop and for sleep to take over. 

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

masterlist 🔌 

and if i make a mini series out of this then what 🧍🏼‍♀️ 

Part 2

taglist ✍️ 

@clarityisnofun @callsignwidow @gabriella-aesthetic @llynx7 @violetiss3lfish @ka1afbr @akiko-oo @papichulo120627 @lizzylovebooks280501 @thatgirl101blog @anaviieiraaa @zanygot7straykidsbonk @hueanhdang

ps: this is not a cry for help i’ve done my dues in therapy and group BUT if you’re struggling there are resources out there that can help you and you can reach out to me and I will do what I can to help

[poisonlove]

Omg! You're taking requests!!! ME haaappy! 'cause i have one eheh

Jenna xfemreader

where you find somewhere a love letter for you, actually.. The first part is really sweet, a classic love letter but the second part is.. quite interesting: the anonymous writer describes in detail what they would like to do to you and with you.

You want to find out who the writer is but a suspiciously nervous Jenna tries to stop your "investigation".

Have a good day:)

I actually like the idea a lot. Transitioning from a romantic sentence to something more sensual is something that had crossed my mind before, but I hadn't found a prompt for it until now.

I've made a few changes, but I hope you'll still like it. Enjoy reading!

I NEED YOU | J.O

As I open the locker in search of books for the next class, I notice a folded sheet atop my science book.

Arching my eyebrows in confusion, I scan the school corridor, trying to discern the mysterious sender. The only people around seem engrossed in their cliques, completely oblivious to my perplexity.

With a mental shrug, I abandon the search and focus on the letter, smiling shyly at the unexpected gesture. In an era dominated by technology, receiving a handwritten letter has become a rare and special occurrence. I delicately grasp the letter, running my fingers over the crumpled paper that evidently forced its way through the cracks of my locker. I flip the letter several times, searching for any name on the outside, but all I see is a completely blank sheet.

"Hey y/n!" The voice of the basketball team captain, Isaac Ortega, resonates in the corridor, grabbing my attention. I turn and smile at him, considering him one of my closest friends.

Isaac's brown eyes fixate on the sheet in my hands, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. "Do you have a secret admirer? Uyy," he whispers, attempting to grab the letter.

With a smirk, I snatch it away, tucking it into my backpack pocket. "Mind your own business, Ortega," I say absentmindedly, rolling my eyes slightly irritated.

Isaac raises his hands in surrender.

"Anyway, see you after practice?" he asks curiously. "I think so… now I have to go, I have a class," I reply quickly, grabbing the necessary book from the locker and carelessly stuffing it into my backpack.

My eyes shift along the figure of Jenna Ortega, Isaac's younger sister, passing by us. Jenna wears her classic earphones, walking elegantly in the corridor. Dressed in ripped jeans and a red and black plaid shirt, Jenna exudes a mysterious aura. As her eyes briefly meet mine, she gives me a small smile before continuing on her way.

I knew Jenna only by sight; however, our conversations were limited.

"Hey JEN!" Isaac shouts, trying to catch his sister's attention. Jenna stops and removes an earphone, turning towards her brother. Isaac grins widely.

"Remember that you have to come to practice today… you promised," Isaac pouts, feigning innocence, and Jenna rolls her eyes, responding with a raised middle finger.

I chuckle softly.

"I love you too, Jenna," Isaac exclaims with fake sorrow, smiling and giving me a quick wink before turning away, draping his arm over the shoulders of a guy walking beside him, most likely a teammate.

I sigh and start walking towards my next class.

(...)

With a heart beating fast, I step through the classroom door, and the breathlessness betrays my sprint to avoid being late. A hurried glance around reveals a reassuring scene: the teacher hasn't arrived yet.

A sigh of relief grazes my lips, easing the tension in my shoulders. The chance to avoid the stern gaze of the teacher grants me a moment of tranquility. With a stealthy step, I head towards the farthest corner of the classroom, finding refuge near the window.

I place my backpack on the desk and sit down, releasing a sigh of frustration.

With a resignation barely perceptible, I begin to diligently retrieve the materials for the new lesson when my gaze stops on it: the letter. An aura of mystery envelops it, and the curiosity creeping inside me is irresistible. The paper, still neatly folded, lies among the books and notes, ready to unveil its contents.

With hands slightly trembling with excitement, I grab the letter, fingers gliding over the smooth surface as I observe its external appearance.

"Good morning, everyone," the voice of the literature teacher dances through the classroom walls, interrupting my brief moment of intimacy with the letter. I avert my gaze from its surface and observe the authoritative figure of the teacher starting to write on the chalkboard.

"Turn to page 75 of the textbook; today, we'll delve into Shakespeare," the teacher announces with authority, outlining the day's agenda. The succession of murmurs in the class, coupled with the rustling of pages turning, creates a vibrant background of activity as everyone prepares for the lesson.

The letter, momentarily forgotten in my hand, returns to the center of my attention with an irresistible pull.

I decide to open it.

Y/n… what I wanted to write in this letter is something quite simple: I like you, and a lot.

"So, Isaac was right," I mutter to myself.

I love everything about you; you're intelligent, beautiful, and incredibly interesting, not to mention a wonderful person. Your eyes were immediately my downfall, the way they light up when you're excited or when they gaze upon me makes me feel excited and, at the same time, as if a shiver runs down my spine.

"I seem to know her…" I think with curiosity.

You make me feel things I've never felt before in my life, thoughts for a girl that had never crossed my mind until I saw you for the first time. I still remember our first encounter, even though I was watching you from afar. We were doing gymnastics, and Jessica spilled water on you, something I still owe her thanks for.

The way you lifted your shirt to reveal your toned stomach to dry your face… it caught the attention of my eyes.

Something in me ignited.

"However… what a peculiar way to confess their feelings," I suppress a smile and continue reading the remaining lines.

Returning to things I like… your lips. Goodness, they are a daily temptation I always want to indulge in. I just want to place my lips on yours and kiss you until I run out of breath.

Your hair… it looks so soft, and I desire to wrap my fingers around it, playing or simply caressing you.

Your smile… voice, laughter… they are all things I like and want to see every day, especially causing and being the recipient of it.

Your hand…

I raise an eyebrow in confusion reading the latter.

I would love to grasp it and intertwine my fingers with yours, check if your skin is delicate, feel the strength of your large hand over mine, completely overshadowing it.

That hand I want to caress my face, running the thumb over my lower lip, gently putting the tip into my mouth, wishing for you to suck on it.

"This letter is taking a strange turn," I think carefully.

I want that hand around my neck, gripping slightly to make me understand to whom I belong, that hand that will later trail along my body with cunning and strength, slender fingers skillfully working on my flesh.

"Damn…" my cheeks flush with red as saliva begins to fade.

I want that hand to spank me if I misbehave… I want that…

"Miss l/n, could you answer the question I asked you?" The teacher's voice diverted my attention from the letter, and with flushed cheeks, I looked into her eyes, receiving a reproachful gaze.

"Can you repeat the question?" I timidly ask, nervously swallowing saliva.

"Where is Romeo and Juliet set?" she asks again. "Verona," I immediately reply, causing the teacher to blink in surprise. "Correct… well, let's continue with the lesson," she begins, and I roll my eyes in annoyance, directing my gaze back to the letter.

I want you to make me feel like no one else has made me feel: possessed. I desire your hand to possess me; I want it to be rough with me because I'm not delicate like a porcelain doll… I simply want you to use me as you please.

I cross my legs, feeling warmth in the lower abdomen.

I want to feel your fingers inside me, enveloped in my warmth, giving me pleasure until exhaustion. I want to see your eyes hooded with excitement as you continue to penetrate me with your fingers again and again, without diminishing the intensity.

I want that tongue working on my bundle of nerves; I want to feel its full length along my intimacy, making me sigh and moan until I'm breathless. I want you to put it in my mouth, letting me taste myself; I want you to keep licking even if I've already come…

I love your name, and I want to moan it every night, day, second of my life… something I already do within the walls of my room.

"Oh my God…" I bite my lower lip. "This girl is making me feel… uh…" I think to myself, unable to ignore the dampness between my legs.

I want you, I want you y/n, I desire you ardently.

—Anonymous.

I fold the letter and begin to contemplate the room, analyzing what I had read. I don't know how, but I would find out who this girl was.

I needed to know.

[jeffreyfrancoeur]

Can we just...stop comparing Colin to Anthony? Please? They aren't remotely close to the same person, and it's frankly disheartening to see time and time again now.

"Colin had no trauma related to love and self worth to deal with like Simon and Anthony had."

Unless I am very much mistaken, Colin and Anthony have the same father. They both watched said father die from a bee sting. They both watched their mother hold her dying husband in her arms and sob because she just lost the love of her life. The only difference? Anthony was 18, and Colin was 10-12, depending if we're talking show or book. Regardless, watching his father die absolutely gave Colin trauma.

Colin was sent off to Eton not months after his father died. He never was able to process it with his own family, because they stuck together and processed it together. But Colin had to go away to school. And when he was home, he would bring flowers and play games and try to keep everyone smiling. The only way he felt useful was to focus on everyone else's happiness and diminish his own needs.

He went away on travels each year to try to find himself, process his own trauma and experiences. His engagement to Marina blew up in his face, so he immediately left to go traveling, to lick his wounds away from the rest of the ton. And while he was gone, Penelope was the main one to read and reply to his letters. When he got back, his own family diminished him, said it was a waste of time, that his "prattling on about his travels" was boring. So what did that teach Colin? That his family doesn't care about him. Doesn't value him. Doesn't find his time, his experiences, worth it. Eloise says to Pen (in front of Colin) that she found his letters about Greece dull, and couldn't finish them.

So at the beginning of season 3, when he's returned from another summer away, after no one in his family replied to a single one of his letters, and in the carriage to the presentation, he's absolutely going to not want to talk about his travels with Anthony. "Who are you and what have you done to our brother?" You happened to Colin, Anthony. Colin is masking and pretending like his travels weren't a big deal, that they didn't affect him, when he straight up tells Penelope later that he used the time away to remake himself into a new man. To try out a new persona, away from the ton, where no one knew him as Colin Bridgerton, or as a Bridgerton at all. He was just some nameless man.

He felt like he had no one back home to care about him, so the problem must obviously be him. That there was something wrong with who he is as a person, and that maybe this new version of himself would finally make the people back home--and his family--care about him. Maybe this version would finally be the version of him that's good enough.

So when he comes back to London, he's a flirt. He plays at being a "rake." He sleeps with random women. He goes out drinking with his "friends" all the time, laughs with them at their conquests. But he doesn't enjoy any of it. His mother tells him that he's always been one of her most sensitive children, always putting others first, helping them, trying to lighten the mood. But she also says that he downplays himself for the sake of others. That he puts on armor, that he needs to not put others first so he can ensure that the armor will not some day rust and be unable to be removed. She is possibly the only person who sees Colin, truly sees him.

He feels like he needs to hide his sensitive side, be less needy, be stronger, be more manly. (I would eat my hat if Anthony hasn't told him to "be a man" more than once.) This flirty rake is not who he is at his core. At his core, he is kind, and sensitive, and craves connection. He craves connection so deeply. He wants to be seen, to be loved, to be cared for, to be cherished. Ultimately, he wants someone to value him, like he does for all those around him that he cares about. His family ignored him for that entire summer, and he still brought back incredibly thoughtful gifts for each of them, that shows how much he knows them and loves them. He wants to be able to love, care for, and cherish someone in return.

How is his desire for love and to be loved and this ease in which he creates a new Colin to try and please everyone else not a trauma response related to love and self worth?

[izvmimi]

a/n: this is tongue-in-cheek. being married to a pro hero can sometimes grate on your nerves if they’re not made of steel. cw brief child mention.

the first thing you notice before you park your car that Friday night is that your mailbox is full to bursting -

and that’s not even an exaggeration. 

katsuki gets a lot of fanmail - drawings from kids who are inspired by the pro hero Dynamight and heartfelt greeting cards from the families of people he’s saved (and even those he’s regrettably failed to save), but despite how reassuring those can be, there are a few that get on your last nerve no matter how gracious you try to be:

the characteristic perfume-scented letters by the most annoying fan club he has - Dynamight’s Damsels.

there’s already a zero in creativity for the name, but it’s less about them being lame and more about the sheer audacity of it all. you’re not exactly sure how they manage to find every single place your husband has lived in since he became an official pro, and you’re not exactly sure why it’s legal to stalk anyone to this extent, let alone a married man, but there’s not much you can do about it - sending lightly used panties is apparently not a crime, nor is writing fanfiction that poorly characterizes him, even if it is graphic. it’s weird, no one will argue that, but not illegal. and especially given his level of fame and adoration, is to be expected.

but sometimes there’s a limit. today they’ve gone full force and sent many packages on top of letters, probably because it was his birthday last week and the mailman had the kindness to hold off on the nonsense until your private festivities died down. picking up as many letters as you can carry in your handbag, you plug your nose and make it into your house. 

katsuki’s come back early today, and has your sleeping baby girl tied to his back while he prepares dinner; even though his back is turned, you know he knows you’ve returned.

he turns and grins, and then his smile immediately fades when he can see the frown on yours.

“what’s wrong, princess?”

“your harem misses you, katsuki,” you reply, keeping your voice sickeningly sweet. with that, you dump what looks like a sea of letters, all with a classic seal, ‘DD’, in cursive, onto the dinner table and he immediately starts fussing at you before realizing he’s going to wake the baby and dropping his voice.

“don’t put that shit on the table! we don’t know where it’s been!” he says in a hushed yet harsh tone.

“why are you worried? your girls would never poison you,” you grin, but your smile doesn’t completely reach your eyes. “they are sooooo in love with you after all.” you roll your eyes and shake out your bag, lest an expensive bra fall out or an oddly familiar assumption about the man you married.

he groans, and turns dinner once, then lowers the heat and moves over to collect the envelopes and toss them in the automatic trash bin.

“stop getting mad at me for their behavior. it’s not like this shit isn’t affecting me too,” he quips. then he walks over to you, frowning again, but differently this time, and you can tell he’s waiting for something.

“what?” you ask, holding onto the strap of your purse. you’re pouting and he’s pouting and you’re both standing in the kitchen and dinner will be ready in 30.

“where’s my kiss?” 

you narrow your eyes.

“ask katsukispuppy.” you reply, cruelly before walking past him.

“BABE!”

[pigfacedbitch]

It's A Trap!

summary : Prince Arthur uses reader to lure Merlin out whenever he is hiding from him.

word count : 0.5k

type : imagines

pairing/s involved : Merlin x Reader (?)

warning/s : none. just Merlin pining over reader and Arthur being an ass.

here is my masterlist!

Note : I thought of this when I watched the clip where Arthur is looking for Merlin and he was hiding behind the door. 😂 It was a one shot before and I heavily edited it too.

There is no denying that Prince's Arthur's manservant is in love with (Y/N), a noble lady from one of the most prestigious houses in Camelot.

Everyone, even Arthur himself, knows it. And that's saying something. 🫢😂

From the way Merlin would stare at you with heart in his eyes, how he would follow you everywhere like a dog, or his ears pick up whenever he hears your name.

Gaius almost wants to take a leaf out of Van Gogh's book and tear off his own ears because Merlin wouldn't shut up about you. He also writes about you in his letters for Hunith.

Now, does Arthur take advantage of it? Of course, he does. Like,"Do you know Lady (Y/N) would be there?" or "If you fetch flowers for Gwen, you could also get some for your lady love."

The epitome of the statement, however, is making you his trap. Confused? I'll explain further later.

"Merlin?! Where are you?!"

It's very common for the palace staff to hear the prince of Camelot blaringly calling out to his manservant. Although some people catch Merlin scurrying away from him or has an idea of his whereabouts, no one bothers to tell Arthur anything.

After all, it's completely understandable and why many servants can empathize. As admirable and honorable the prince is, he can be a handful at times.

That's where you come in.

Whenever Arthur has given up searching for Merlin, he would search for you instead.

He often finds you in the gardens with the other noble ladies, helping some servants with menial tasks, or having tea with Morgana and Gwen. Uther enjoys your company too, making the usual stoic ruler laugh and gossip.

"May I excuse Lady (Y/N)? I need her assistance with something."

"Is it Merlin again?"

"...Yes."

You would go to Gaius' chambers, the kitchens, servant's quarters, or anywhere Merlin could've gone to. Then, you would tell anyone that you're looking for him to speak about personal matters and you'll be waiting for him with a place of your choice.

Arthur would wait with you, but he's hiding where Merlin can't see him.

Why do you continue helping the royal prat? It's because you find it funny.

You're also curious, thinking how long will it take Merlin to stop seeking you out because most of the time it's just one of Arthur's traps.

The prince's knights bet on it. Gwaine and Leon are winning— saying how Merlin will never learn.

It's true, he doesn't. I guess love does make you an idiot.

Merlin always approaches you with a beaming grin on his face and blushed cheeks, acting like a lovesick school boy.

"My lady, you were looking for me?"

"Well you see..."

Arthur would wait for Merlin to get closer before grabbing the manservant in his clutches.

"Here you are, you idiot!"

Sometimes Merlin would free himself and run, sometimes he doesn't and Arthur would drag him away while warning him of possible punishments.

But he never misses the chance to look back and give you the most charming smile anyone has ever graced you with.

"Merlin really loves you, doesn't he?" You hear Gwen beside you, linking your arm with hers. Nervous and worried, you reply—

"Yes. I just hope that I get to tell Merlin that I share his affections. But Arthur is always with him."

[osmanthus-wine-addiction]

◈ Pairing: Zhongli x fem!Reader ◈ Summary: You return to Liyue after spending years abroad in Sumeru. Unfortunately, Zhongli has not changed one bit and you find yourself trapped in the friendzone. ◈ Contains: Modern AU, age gap, previously teacher-student, neighbors, teenage crushes, light angst, minor character death, problematic tropes, friendzone

Friend

Zhongli sighed softly, cushioning your bruised ego as he rejects you yet again in the most gentle of ways.

This man had been many things to you over the years, but there was one person he refused to be, your lover. It was as if he had made a silent contract with some higher power to never cross that invisible line.

The first time you aired your feelings to him, you weren’t even sure if it was even love. It was at most a silly crush then, nothing like the unmovable rock that had taken up permanent residence in your heart. When your fates first intertwined, he was just your history teacher. Prim and proper, handsome, although a tad long-winded whenever he opened his mouth, you were instantly infatuated as many of your classmates were. Perhaps if fate hadn't decided to meddle further, this shallow crush of yours would've came and went as nothing more than a temporary fixation.

"Zhongli... I was just kidding. I'm not a teenager anymore." You tried to laugh it off, but your hands trembled under the table. "How many years has it been?"

"Far too many." Zhongli chuckled. "I've missed you much, friend." He says that word with so much sincerity, your heart breaks a little.

You never bothered to explain why you had been single for the past few years and he never asked. Hutao would occasionally narrow her eyes at you when you brought up a certain "friend" in conversation, but even she didn't link this mysterious individual you refused to name to the the man that used to be your history teacher. The three of you had really gone a long way. Hutao went off to take over her grandfather's funeral parlor. You received an acceptance letter from the Sumeru Akademiya and went abroad. Before you know it, half a decade had flown by. Zhongli became the receiver of your ever frequent messages and calls. Somehow you had grown even closer to him while you were thousands of miles away. His replies were often longer than warranted and always thoughtful like he was. You could almost hear his voice when you read them. While most of his students were glad they no longer needed to sit through his lectures, you had undoubtedly come to miss them.

At that time, your colleagues were pairing up left and right, so predictably, you felt left out. You were hopeful then that you'd find your special someone and hit it off too. Contrary to your optimism, the more you dated around in Sumeru, the more exhausted you became. There was an itch in your heart and nobody you met could scratch it. While venting to Hutao about yet another failed date, realization finally hit you. You had been looking for traces of Zhongli in those dates. In between the endless text messages, occasional calls and hushed goodnights, you've never actually felt the sting of loneliness. Of course your dating endeavors were a complete failure.

You never fell out of whatever infatuation you had for him. If anything, your feelings had only grown stronger and more grounded. The dates stopped and your romantic life came to a full halt.

"You're going to end up alone. Just you wait." Hutao giggled.

"I'm alright with that." You calmly replied. "I have friends."

Till this day, you still remember the way her brow went up.

What you didn't disclose was that all the way in Liyue, Zhongli was completely unaware that he was the reason why. That was fine. If anything, the man had always been alone for most of the time you had known him. You could always keep him company as a friend and truthfully, the label over your relationship mattered less than he did. Labels had never really amounted to much in your book with the amount of times people around you have fallen short of them.

You remembered how you used to deliberately drop the 'Mister' in front of his name every time you greeted him. He eventually gave up correcting you and allowed you to address him directly whenever he ran into you outside your home. Zhongli had coincidentally moved into the apartment a few doors down. Your mother was ecstatic when she found out the handsome man she met while grabbing mail that morning was your history teacher, determined to wrangle him in for extra tutoring sessions even though you assured her that your grades were nowhere near failing. You had an image to keep up in front of your crush, even if sacrificing it would give you an excuse to stare at Zhongli's handsome face for a few extra hours every week. Although your mother's tutoring plans never came to fruition, Zhongli's phone number was now sitting in your contacts thanks to her persistence.

All your friends knew about your crush on your history teacher. There was no need to hide it because nobody took it seriously except you. Hutao was especially vocal about it, calling Zhongli dusty and old-fashioned. You liked that about him though. He exuded a sense of calm with the way he spoke and carried himself that you naturally gravitated towards. Even your mother found him trustworthy enough to entrust your safety to him in case your estranged father showed up at the door one day.

You still remembered the calming warmth and scent of the tea he placed in your shaking hands when he sat you down at his table.

"Everything will be alright." He took a seat across from you, expression grave.

You could tell that he didn't know what to say to comfort you, so you forgave him for telling that one lie. The sirens blaring loudly outside the door were muffled as he pressed his palms against your ears. Nothing was alright that day, but at least you were safe. At least you weren't alone.

"Thank you, Zhongli." You spoke up the next morning over breakfast.

"There's no need to thank me. I simply did what any neighbor would've done in that situation."

Your eyes met his. One glance told him that you disagreed, but you didn't say anything to refute what he said.

There were plenty of neighbors present, some of which were standing right there in front of your door watching when it all happened. If it weren't for Zhongli, you would've still been in there, bleeding next to your unconscious mother by the time the cops arrived.

"I am also your teacher, your elder, even if you refuse to address me so." He added softly.

"So every neighbor, every teacher, every elder would've done what you did?" You asked bluntly. In an ideal world maybe, but you knew better.

Zhongli drew in a hesitant breath, falling silent at your question. Perhaps he should not be speaking for anyone but himself, especially when the person the cops dragged off in handcuffs was your own father.

"You may consider me a friend then." He finally said after what felt like an eternity.

You eventually moved into a short term foster home after your mother's funeral. Luckily, you were allowed to continue attending the school you were at due to the end of the year being only two months away. He could've asked you to delete his phone number from your contacts then, but he didn't. How could he offer you friendship and then confiscate it less than two months later? Since he couldn't bear to sever that string of fate that anchored you to him when he had the chance, Zhongli could only watch as you tightened it. Now that you had returned to Liyue, it was clear to him how much things had changed. Zhongli was more or less the same, but your outer appearance had changed quite drastically. Despite the differences, both of you could feel the connection you shared. Unlike when you left, you had returned to him as a close friend.

Everybody you were acquainted with eventually came to know about Zhongli, but some knew a bit more than others, Hutao for example. At first, she was skeptical about how closely you had gotten entangled with him over the years. He was almost a whole decade older than you and was even your teacher at one point in your life.

"He's just a close friend." You reassured her. "It's not what you think it is."

Nobody could give their unsolicited disapproval if the two people involved refused to define the relationship.

You even handed her your phone to go through your text messages, swearing you haven't deleted a single one. Sure enough, your conversations with Zhongli were about the most sterile exchanges imaginable, save for the frequency.

"You text him more than you text me." Was all she could say when she handed you back your phone.

A friend, that's what you labeled him as whenever you mentioned him, no matter if it was to your closest friend or a stranger. Zhongli also abided by this unspoken rule, albeit rather heavy-handedly. Whether it's to remind you or himself that there was a line he couldn't cross, only he would know. Zhongli might care deeply for you, appear at your doorstep at the slightest hint of distress in your voice, take care of you when you're too sick to get out of bed and bring you dinner at work when you have to do overtime, but he couldn't be your lover. It wasn't like you never tried to change his mind. You've hinted it a few times, even borrowed the disguise of alcohol to say it straight to his face. There's only so many times a person can take rejection before they simply stop asking.

"I'm much too old for you."

"Perhaps I remind you of simpler times. Nostalgia may be the culprit. Nevertheless, I'm flattered that you've attached such fond sentiments to me."

"You've had a cup too many, dear."

"You've simply gotten used to my presence. When things finally settle into their places, you will see that it is not as you assumed."

"You will always be precious to me. Please do not joke about this matter."

He always phrased it in the most considerate ways, but the reply was always the same. Why push the same button over and over? You were no longer an impulsive teenager. It did you no good to continue prying an affirmation out of him, especially when all his actions contradicted his words. Even Hutao began rolling her eyes whenever she sees the two of you together, with the way Zhongli acted around you. If it was cold, his coat was predictably draped over your shoulders. If it was too warm, she would catch him gathering your hair into a ponytail and tying it with the dexterity of someone who had done it a thousand times. When you ate out as a group, Zhongli would always be glued to your side like an overprotective husband, pulling out your chair for you and cutting your food. You allowed him to, silently indulging in his antics just as he allowed you to get away with many of your more questionable gestures. However if anyone so much as makes a joke about how couple-like the two of you acted, both you and Zhongli would immediately refute it without any hesitation.

If he called this friendship, then perhaps there's no distinction needed. It wasn't like there was anyone else he was treating the way he treated you. He could keep his excuses and you could continue denying your feelings. Maybe one day, this rock would crack and start blooming, but until then, you were satisfied with this so-called friendship. After all, it wasn't like any sane person could approach you with him there. If you were interested in Zhongli and learned that he had a friend that he looked after like a dragon guarding its precious gem, you'd see yourself out.

Even a blind person could see that Zhongli was in love with you. What mattered that he insisted on calling you a friend?

AN: I was going through Zhongli's voicelines and realized how many times he deliberately calls you "friend"

DAMN YOU HOYO. WHY YOU GOTTA HURT ME LIKE THIS?

[doberbutts]

Also just because I've been getting some harassing anons and replies on my post ever since that one self-identified Zionist blog got BIG MAD at me for posting the Palestinian flag (ironic considering like 3 days later when I reblogged something Jewish I had people then BIG MAD at me for that too.......)

Skoll, I took on knowing I would probably have to euthanize him for his aggression. From the very beginning the deal was that I was his last stop since he was a known abuse court case dog who was taken from his most recent owners and languishing in a kennel environment but deemed otherwise unadoptable due to severe aggression. The agreement was that I would have him for however long it would take to determine if he was fixable and then either I'd fix it and keep him or I'd euthanize. He bit me three separate times when we were still learning each other, and then attacked me randomly for the crime of petting his head, an act of affection he normally would approach me to request. I euthanized him at the advice of literally everyone involved with his case, and a few days after I euthanized him I got a letter from the state telling me either I put him down or animal control would take him and do it themselves. Pennsylvania is very strict on what they consider a mauling or a maiming and the resulting bite from his attack was very severe. I have had multiple people, including vets, neurologists, and behaviorists, tell me that they think he had rage, a seizure disorder which causes uncontrollable aggression, when I describe what his random bouts of attempting to attack literally the first thing he locked eyes on looked like.

Tiki, I rescued because I wanted a tiny dog and a dog that would live longer than a doberman, because dobe lifespans are hideously short due to their health problems. Within about 5 minutes of driving away with her, I realized she was very, very sick. We stopped at the vet before we even got her home. Over the next several months and constant ER visits we discovered she had hydrocephalus and also an immune condition that was slowly eating her lungs. She crashed during a procedure that was supposed to be our last attempt at fixing the lung problem as by then we knew the hydrocephalus would kill her anyway and we were trying to extend her life as long as possible. I dropped her off for the procedure, they called me on my way home, and I turned around so I could be there to say goodbye.

Creed died from cancer 🤷‍♂️ mast cell cancer is THE most common cancer in dogs as a species and it's a genuine coin toss if removing the initial tumor fixes it or if it's too late by the time you notice, because it forms on scar tissue so it hides by looking like a regular scar. Creed had a bunch of nicks and scrapes from running around in the woods on our hikes. One of the earliest scars he ever got is what killed him in the end. Losing him is what turned my blog from what it used to be, all dogs all the time, to what it is now. Ironically, he lived roughly the average lifespan for a doberman at 7.5 years old.

Phoebe, I was not involved in the decision to euthanize her. She came to me once again very sick, and I did my best to fix the problem, but it seemed to be a lot bigger than me or her other owner had expected. Her other owner took her to multiple specialists more local to her, and finally we came to a tentative diagnosis of a liver shunt. Her condition degraded rapidly and she went blind and began having seizures, and her other owner made the choice to say goodbye. Surgery was not an option due to her already bad condition not being certain she would actually survive anesthesia. I knew that she was not doing well, but I was not informed that she had died until several months later, despite my asking for updates because I suspected she'd passed. I don't disagree with the choice, I just wish I'd known when it happened. What we thought was just a chronic hookworm infestation and possible pancreatitus from the long-term damage from the hookworms turned out to be much more serious, and deadly, when it stopped responding to treatment.

If you have any questions on my capability as a dog owner to actually keep dogs alive, I'd like to direct you to the fact that Creed and my other actually-purchased-from-a-breeder dogs have lived good long lives. I keep getting sick dogs in rescue despite being told they are healthy, and that is exactly why I refuse to rescue dogs anymore. I'm tired of breaking my heart while cleaning up a problem someone else created. This is the part of rescue that doesn't get shared- what happens when someone loses the rescue lottery again and again and again with sick and mentally unwell dogs that are doomed to die before they've had a chance to truly live? I'm tired of being that someone. I'm tired of loving dogs and hemorrhaging money in a desperate attempt to fix them and feeling the weight of their bodies in my arms when that wasn't enough and they die anyway.

At least I can say Creed had a good fulfilled life as my constant companion, even if he didn't live nearly long enough compared to what I wanted.

[anon-amiss]

hello, I have a request of Wally Darling x singer y/n

at first, Wally and the others did not know the reader could sing. One day they all decided to have a group picnic and Wally was the one who would get you. Wally knocked at y/n home and Y/n didn't answer he noticed the window open and he heard Y/n singing. (Love like you by steven universe)

then and there Wally fell in love he could not bring himself to stop the reader from singing.

you can pick what happens next :)

Beginning notes: I love this! I'll do my best! Thank you for the request! Another quick mention is that the reader might be referred to as "neighbour". I don't mind using Y/n at all, but people give it so much bad rep :[

Some warnings: Nothing triggering, just reader being mildly embarrased haha

Wally Darling x Singer!Reader

(Platonic or Romantic)

(a bit more on the romantic side haha)

"...Turns out, I was holding the letter all along!! Now isn't that just hilarious??" Eddie boasted out, laughing while waving his arm around rapidly. Barnaby fell to the floor, rolling around and snickering in response. It was as if he'd just heard the funniest thing in Home, which, honestly, could have been probable.

Wally giggled after hearing the passing conversation, placing the picnic blanket down on the grass with ease.

The sky was perfect, and the weather calm. This meant only one thing: it was finally time for the monthly picnic party! Everyone was invited, which meant you were too! It was going to be your first time at this event, and everybody was very excited to have you join them as their special guest! Everyone came extra prepared, bringing gifts and items they thought would help with getting you acquainted with their tradition.

Sally weighted the blanket down with what looked to be a large sewing machine and a bag full of various fabrics and sewing materials. Wally turned his attention to her and tilted his head.

"What are all these for?" Wally asked, a little surprised she was able to carry all these items on her own.

"Why, I wanted to show our new friend how to make hand puppets! They've been asking me all week, and I thought this would be the best opportunity to teach them!" She beamed, organizing some of her tools on the blanket.

"Yeah, and I brought my makeup so we could do a little fashion show with them!" Julie interjected, placing a few of her bags, presumably filled with makeup, on the blanket next to Sally's items. "I made sure to bring everything I had just in case they wanted a certain look!"

"Oh! I brought along some arts and crafts if that helps at all!" Eddie chimed in, holding out a delivery bag filled to the brim with tons of crafting materials. He placed himself on the blanket next to the growing pile of goods. It was starting to form a little mountain by now.

"Whoa now, buddy! Make sure to leave some extra for the butterfly nets!" Frank blurted out. He held nothing, but Wally assumed they would use some of Eddie's resources to make the nets.

"Do we have to participate in this event before or after lunch?" Barnaby joined, with Poppy following suit. He placed down a picnic basket full of the most delicious smelling food. Oh! He seemed to have placed it on Eddie's head! It's perfectly balanced!

Frank shot him a glare and sighed. "We'll do it after lunch just so you won't complain the whole time."

"What can I say? Small dogs like me need lotsa energy to run!" He jested, laughing to himself with a wide grin.

"You better not eat it all this time, Barb! Poppy and I spent a lot of time gathering the most perfect ingredients for this specific batch of food!" Howdy blurted out, tapping his foot at the fluffy 'little' pup.

"Don't worry, Howdy! I wouldn't dream of ruining our new neighbour's first picnic! Besides, a tiny guy like me can't finish all this by myself," he replied, giving him a pat on the head for reassurance.

"Speaking of our new neighbour, where are they?" Poppy asked, turning to Wally with a motherly smile.

"Yeah! We can't possibly start without them!" Julie added on, turning to face Wally with an excited grin.

"I told them I'd come and pick them up as soon as we were done setting up!" Wally replied, clasping his felty hands together with the happiest expression he could give. "Would you all be so kind as to help me finish up while I go get our neighbour? I'm just too excited to wait."

"Of course! We'll have everything prepared in a jiffy!" Sally exclaimed, jumpstarting the task and immediately organizing the items on the blanket. Julie joined in, working at the same pace as her.

"Thank you so much! I'll see you all soon. I love you!" Wally waved to them, setting off to your home with an overjoyed feeling in his body. He felt so lucky to have friends like them.

Your home wasn't too far from the picnic site, only a few minutes away, so Wally got there pretty early. He told you earlier that he would probably finish up by noon. By now, according to the town clock, it was about 11:30pm. Though a few minutes definitely passed after Wally's struggle to remember how to read the clock in the first place.

Wally stood in front of the door to your home, ready to knock before hearing a quiet melody. Curiously, he turned his head to the source of the noise, which appeared to be coming from a nearby open window.

He hummed and looked away. Wouldn't it be rude to take a look inside? This place was your privacy, so maybe it was best to ignore it.

Another melodic tune began to ring out quietly, followed by the deafening tone of piano keys being smashed rather aggressively. "Oh dear..." Wally refused to look through your window. That would be unneighbourly!

Then he heard groaning and began to grow worried. Maybe just a peek. For your safety. Definitely.

He followed intuition and looked through the window, his eyes searching rapidly for the source of all the noise. His gaze happened upon you. You were sitting at the piano, holding what looked to be a journal and a pencil.

You were grumbling to yourself and writing angrily in the book, but other than that, you seemed to be doing relatively well. Perhaps you were just experimenting with new sounds. Wally's suspicions began to die down, and he would have left it at that, but before he could turn away, you did something completely unexpected.

Once you cleared your throat and placed your journal down, you began to press numerous keys, getting acquainted with the feeling before you began to play what sounded like an actual song.

Your fingers gingerly glided across the piano, leaving Wally entranced and more breathless than he already was. If he had a pulse, he was sure it would be beating critically by now.

He blinked, dumbfounded. Not about the fact that you were talented, but of the fact that you had kept this a secret for so long. He couldn't fathom why someone would hide such a gift.

Then another surprise emerged. Not from your movements, but from your voice. You began to sing! He nearly tripped himself inside your home, not realizing how far he was leaning into your window. He held onto the frame, his mouth agape from the sheer astonishment you managed to succumb him to.

He could only make out a few words from so far away. "If I could begin to be...... I could do about anything...... Could even learn how to love like you...." You continued on with the song, putting all the focus you could on playing the right keys. It was hard to concentrate when you sang and played at the same time, which was why you were practicing in the first place.

You didn't want to necessarily practice for anybody but yourself. You never planned on anyone hearing your singing, mainly because of how embarrassing and distracting it felt. It would most definitely make you mess up, which would only be more humiliating for you in the end.

You weren't a professional, and honestly, you were okay with that. As long as you could finish the song at all, you would be just fine. The accomplishing feeling was worth much more than the sound of cheers. You steadied your breathing and began to focus on your singing a little.

Meanwhile, Wally was lost in thought, watching you with a dreamy gaze. He absolutely adored you. He was so proud knowing he had a friend who could do so many beautiful things. He so badly wanted to learn this song so he could sing with you. He wanted to praise you right there and then, but he knew it was probably not the best idea.

He leaned on the window frame, crossing his arms and watching you intently. He was baffled, feeling himself just melt into the mixture of sounds you were creating right before his eyes. He sighed and closed his eyes, falling into the deepest state of peace he's ever had in Home.

He loved the concocting mix of your voice and the piano. The sounds succesfully meshed to create a hum that reverberated off the walls and vibrated the glasses around you, which, in turn, created what sounded like an extra voice. Angelic!

Then you did something else totally unexpected!

There was the tiniest note out of place, which was proceeded by the loudest smash of keys Wally's ever heard. Mortified, he opened his eyes and looked up at your figure.

You were frustrated with yourself. You were doing great, but you just had to take your attention away from the piano, didn't you? You groaned and rubbed your forehead. You'd been practicing for a while now, so maybe now would be the best time for a break.

You turned your body and got up from your seat. Water sounded good right about now.

Wally didn't have enough time to react before you laid your eyes upon the window. Panicked, he flopped down on the ground, feeling himself heat up. He wasn't sure if he had the capability to blush, but if he did, he was definitely doing it now.

At first you were shocked by the sight of Wally, but even moreso when he launched himself back from the window???? You hurridly rushed towards the opening and looked down at the ground. There he was.

"Wally?? What are you doing here??" You asked, observing as his felty face began to grow a few shades darker. He chuckled nervously and sat up quickly.

"Well.. Erm..."

"Wait there! Let me help you," you interrupted, making your way outside as hastily as you could. You grabbed his hand and led him in your home, helping him dust off some of the grass that seemed to have stuck to him when he threw himself back.

You invited him to sit at your dining room table, grabbing two glasses of water and placing one in front of him as an offering. He seemed to just stare at it quizically. Oh wait, did he drink water? Now that you thought about it, you don't think you've ever seen him consume anything.

But as you snapped yourself away from your thoughts, you found the water to be gone. Oh. The cup was too. Did he eat it? Maybe it was a puppet thing???

"I'm so sorry for my actions, neighbour," Wally started, staring up at you with dejected eyes. "I was going to knock on your door so I could escort you to the picnic, but I guess I got a little curious. I shouldn't have looked through your window. That was very uncouth of me." He hung his head low, expecting you reprimand him for his actions or get angry, but much to his surprise, you just laughed.

"Oh, Wally. You don't have to apologize. I would have gotten a little interested, too, if I heard all that noise I was making," you stated, laying a hand on his shoulder. "Besides, I wouldn't have minded having you listen to me. I can always depend on you to be kind and unjudgemental." You took a sip of your water, reassuring him with a smile. "I should be the one apologizing to you, in all honesty. All that key smashing was probably very... erm... unsurprising, to say the least." You gave out another laugh, Wally doing the same.

"Well, I must say, I just love your singing. It was gracious," he admitted, making you feel gaucherie-like. It wasn't unlike him to compliment you, even for the smallest of things, but you always knew he was genuine. It was refreshing to hear that he liked something so personal about you. "I could listen to you all day, really." His eyes had a glaze to them that you couldn't understand the meaning of, but it made your heart pump.

"Thank you, Wally. That means a lot to me," you replied, grinning proudly. He nodded and got up from his seat.

"Well, we should probably be heading to the picnic now. I wouldn't want everyone else to worry haha!" He pushed his chair in and offered his hand out to you, which you did take, but you had to admit you were a little bashful while doing so.

You both headed out, only stopping once for Wally to ask if he could hear you play sometime.

"Of course!" You responded cheerfully, feeling bubbly from his excited expression afterwards.

"Then it's a date!"

End

End notes: Haha, in the end I guess it was more on the romatic side. I might write a oneshot for the 'date' and the picnic as well if anyone wants that. I had fun writing the transitions between the characters, and in my personal opinion, this oneshot was a little funky, but hey, that's fine! I liked writing it! Thanks for your request! I appreciate your amazing idea!Sorry if it's not what you completely had in mind!

Another note: this is what I imagine he looked like when listening to you sing. I'm not the best artist, but I do try >:]

[tiazennie]

₊˚⊹♡ ₊˚⊹♡

All my fault Genre: fluff and a lot bit of angst hahaha Chenle X Reader Warnings: swearing and superpowers which is crazy. corny way of writing, and lastly the amount of times the word guilty and the phrase "all my/your fault" was used lmao. (lmk if there's more!) Background: You've always treasured stargazing. perhaps as a little child, you were amazed by how the stars shone brightly on you despite their millions or perhaps billions of miles away, and it was your only source of comfort when something upsetting occurred. It all began, you and your parents discovering that you generate electricity each time your heartbeat rises above 80 beats per minute. However, today is the day that you had the worst day of your life! Someone chooses to sit in your usual park place, making things worse. ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

It was nothing unusual to your parents to see you frowning as you made your way to the park. Most of the answers were the same, and they knew that inquiring would only make things worse. Since it was the weekend and they thought maybe you might go together to the beach to let it out and spend some time as a family, they decided to ask tomorrow instead of letting it go today. Even worsening your already unpleasant attitude was the realization that someone else was occupying your preferred location within the park. You wanted to just run away and electrocute him then and then. However, you remained composed and just requested him to go.  "Um, hi! you're sitting on my favorite spot." The guy looked up at you and gave you an unimpressed look. "Hello, I'm sorry but this has no writing that says 'Please don't sit here' so anyone can sit on it whenever." He replied to which you acknowledged. Most people just roll their eyes and leave, but he was persistent on staying. "This is fine, I like a good challenge." You thought before replying. "Still, you're sitting where I sit everyday." You say emphasizing the letter/word "I" as he poked his tongue out in his inner cheek out of annoyance. "Fine, I'll leave in one condition." You roll your eyes mentally, "every time." You thought. "What is it? Give you five dollars or pick up your things for you--" "Give me your number." He says cutting you off, immediately showing a shit eating grin after seeing your flustered reaction. "My- my number? Please like I'd believe that." You reply ready to leave after you hear a beep from your heart monitor. You had to run and fast! "Wait-" He almost said before hissing after feeling an electric shock throughout his whole body. He felt numb and paralyzed. You looked back and saw him having trouble breathing and shaking uncontrollably. You wanted to shake him out of his situation, but hearing your heart monitor still beeping you thought it would make it worse so you decided to call 911. "H-hi I'm seeing a guy getting electric shocked, please come and hurry!" You stutter before ending the call and crouched beside him immediately wearing your emergency gloves so if things like these, happen you could shake them out of their consciousness, to lessen the effects of the electricity coursing through their veins and knock some senses into them (After you make them lose theirs). "Please stay with me, fuck this all my fault." Right after saying that he stops shaking and carefully stands up. Scrunching his eyebrows in an attempt to remember the things that just happened and why his head suddenly started hurting. "W-what happened?" He asks snapping you out of your thoughts. "I-I you were--" You were cut off by the ringing of the ambulance and the people inside it making tons of noises. Someone pushed you out of their way to check his vitals. "Put him inside now!" Someone shouted, and that someone was your Dad. "What did you do now?" He asks as tears started to build up in your eyes blurring your vision. "I'm sorry, This- this all my fault Dad, I didn't m-mean to harm him." You whispered barely audible for your Dad to hear. But he was sure, you were blaming yourself again. "Just get inside the ambulance." You obey what he said careful not to touch anyone to not make the situation worse.

After that was a blur. You could barely remember anything because you constantly spaced out. Already knowing what's about to come to you in your house. You were cut off from your thoughts, when a nurse called you and said the "patient" wanted to see you. Nervous, you stand up, your legs wobbly from the happenings and the thought that he might want answers to what just happened. You enter his room quietly, not wanting to disturb him from looking outside his window. His eyes were twinkling, just like the stars that were sprinkled all across the sky. "Hi, again." You speak up audible enough to make him look at you in surprise before smiling. His smile somehow made you feel comfort and genuineness. You couldn't even explain what was happening to yourself after seeing his pretty smile. "Hi, so Y/n I need answers on what just happened why I am here lying on a hospital bed." You knew it. he could see the hesitation in your eyes and he was about to say take your time when you replied. "You see um, what's your name?"" You ask out of curiosity as he chuckles, he somehow found you cute in a awkward way. He liked how straightforward you are with your actions and words. "The name's Chenle." He says trying to ask for a handshake as you just looked at it, confused on what to do. Your parents never taught you those things, in fear that you might hurt someone unkowinglly. Although, the name did sound familiar to you. "Here goes nothing." You thought inhaling as much air as you needed to calm down. Breathing helped you in calming down. Especially, when the cause of your heartrate to go up was near your personal space, and was about to pop the little bubble you had always imagined as a kid so people won't come near you. "It's your choice if your gonna believe me or not." You said and explained everything from when you were a child finding out you had that condition and to now, why he was here in the hospital.

"So you're saying, I made you flustered and it caused your heartrate to go up causing you to produce electricity because your heartrate went up to 80 percent. So now, I'm here at the hospital because of electric shock?" You nodded embarrassed and ashamed, you just wanted an earthquake to spilt the floor you were standing on and just swallow you whole, in other words. You wanted to die. He looks at you with a 'are you serious face' before saying you needed to prove it to him, or he'll press legal charges on you (which was a joke, but you totally believed him). "How? Oh! I know." You started running, wishing your heartrate would go up because your shoes squeaking the floor sounded so awkward. After a few seconds your heart monitor finally beeping and you planned on touching your phone to charge it, when instead a mosquito landed on your nose and it kills it. Chenle looks at the mosquito not even a hot second and bursts out laughing, as you just looked at the poor insect full of guilt and now embarrassment after hearing his laughter. Heck, you didn't even know you could do that. "Do you believe me now?" You ask still out of breath. Feeling as if you had just ran on a marathon. He nods trying to keep his compoture and not remember what just happened to the mosquito.

"It deserved it, after almost ruing your porcelaine skin." He thought nodding to himself. "I was actually hoping you could forgive me after what I said in the park, and now." You speak up facing the floor. This was the time where you appreciate how pretty the floor is right now. Scared on what he was about to say. "It wasn't your fault besides, I've always wanted to be electrocuted." He admits in an attempt to lighten up your mood. It wasn't working, not even one bit, and he knew it. When he saw one tear fall down on to the floor. God, your heart felt like it was about to burst because of guiltyness. He was trying so hard to make you feel good that it felt bad. You knew it was your fault, why wasn't he believing it? Why was he persistent on making you feel okay, when you shouldn't be? This was all your fault, all your fault he's here and all your fault that your dad might lose his job again. "Why are you trying so hard on making me feel okay, Chenle?" You say seriousness lacing your voice, you hear him sigh as he attempts (horribly) to sit up from his bed. "Cause it really wasn't your fault Y/n. Your dad came in a few minutes ago, and explained everything to me. He told me that you would oftenly blame yourself on situations like these, and i get where your coming from. I do also, blame myself when something happens in my familly. But, I never really thought how much it affected the people around me, and after seeing you I felt pittyful of myself. I felt so shitty, that the reason why I never gotten close with my parents was because I kept on pushing them away because I was always blaming myself."

Chenle says, making you realize that maybe he was really right. Your parents were trying so hard on being the perfect parents for you, but you couldn't appreciate that because of your ongoing 'all my fault' mindset. You sigh and hug him, which caughts him off gaurd but he hugs you back even carresing your back. "Thank you." You say quietly as he smiles in the crook of your neck. "I'll wait for you Y/n, until you're ready. But don't take too long, I am not a very patient person." He says making you laugh, and he was sure this wouldn't be the last time he'll make you laugh. Fin (hellooo, I appreciate you sm for actually reading until the end to this piece of trash that I wrote also this was kind of short since I wrote this out of the blue at around 1 in the morning. I couldn't sleep because of stress and everything that's going on in my life (jk I have sleep paralysis). Anyways, hopefully you liked this (although it was shitty) and enjoyed reading it! Please stay hydrated and hopefully you get a good day/night. love yaa!) -Ria-

[the-marshals-wife]

Rookie Jitters (Wolf Jackson x Reader)

─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ⋅☆⋅ 𝐀𝐎𝟑 ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─

A/N: Happy Halloween! 🎃 Besties, I didn't even plan this one ahead of time. I watched Beetlejuice Beetlejuice for the third time, and the inspiration struck. This one's for the Willem Dafoe girlies. You always keep it real. ;)

Description: Wolf Jackson x Fem!Reader, meet-cute fluff with a light sprinkling of angst | Warnings: death mentioned many times (nothing graphic, mostly humorous), guns mentioned, canon-typical creepiness of the Neitherworld | Setting: post Beetlejuice Beetlejuice | Word count: 2,266

Imagine being Wolf Jackson's new secretary, and being nervous to meet him

If your heart could still beat, it would have stopped. You stare at the yellowed paper in your hand that detailed your new job description, and your eyes lock on the name of your boss.

"I'm working for Wolf Jackson? The Wolf Jackson?!" you gape.

The poorly mummified woman across the desk doesn't look up from her clipboard. She slides a folder towards you, and you resist the urge to recoil at her half-decayed arm.

"I don't know who that is. I just hand out the forms. All the details will be in your file," she replies placidly. "Says here you're being assigned to the Afterlife Crimes Unit."

"Crimes Unit? I think there's been some sort of mistake. I'm not in law enforcement."

"Look lady, whatever the paper says, that's where you gotta go. I don't make the rules," she dismisses, pointing with her boney finger, "You go out that door, down the hall, third door on the left, down the stairs, and take the second right. Big doors, you can't miss it. If you wind up in Lost and Found, you went too far."

You nod, trying to absorb the directions as your head swam with new information.

"Could...you maybe write it down for me?" you ask.

The clerk looks over her glasses at you in silence.

You smile nervously, rising from your seat, "Nevermind. I'm sure I'll find it."

Hurriedly gathering up all your paperwork into your arms, you make your exit from the office before the woman's glare could kill you a second time.

While you navigate the dim, winding passages, your thoughts return your destination, and who you might find waiting there. Was your new boss actually Wolf Jackson? Frank Hardballer himself? You seriously consider pinching yourself.

'Figures,' you think, 'I had to die to have the best day of my life.'

After what felt like an eternity of walking through the most otherworldly funhouse imaginable, you take the second right and lay eyes on the big doors. As you read 'Police Precinct 515' painted in black letters above them, the knots in your stomach multiply.

"This must be it," you sigh, clutching the papers to your chest.

You swallow hard, gather the remains of your courage, and walk inside the station with your head held as high as you can manage.

The officer behind the front desk looks up immediately. "Can I help you, miss?"

"Uh, yes. I'm looking for the Afterlife Crimes Unit?" you answer, approaching the intimidatingly tall bench.

"They send you from Orientation?"

His friendly demeanor catches you off guard.

"I think so," you answer, peering up at him, "To be honest, they haven't told me much since I got here. Just one person after another shoving papers at me."

Despite feeling like you'd already been here for a lifetime, you still weren't used to being among so many dead people. It didn't even seem real yet that you were one of them, although that was certain to come with time. The officer's skin is almost the same shade of blue as his uniform, and his features are unnervingly sunken in, but cadaverous countenance aside, he has a kind look that puts you somewhat at ease.

"Things can be pretty nuts around here, but you'll get used to it," he smiles, standing up straight, "You must be the new secretary for the ACU. Last one caught the Soul Train this mornin'. I feel for Jackson, though. I don't think she had the heart to tell him."

"You mean he doesn't know?" you ask.

The officer winces. "I guess you'll find out. It's just down the hall there, first door on the right."

You refrain from rolling your eyes at more verbal directions, just grateful to have spoken to someone pleasant.

"Thank you," you say, glancing down at your heels, "I'm starting to think I should have died in more comfortable shoes."

The officer chuckles. "Good luck to you, miss."

Your focus shifts from the throbbing in your ankles to shaking in your limbs as your nerves return full force. It didn't seem fair that you could still have anxiety in the afterlife, but it would take more than the cold hands of death to calm you in this moment.

As you reach the door and grab the handle, you hear a muffled voice from the other side.

You tread lightly into the room and carefully close the door behind you, not wanting to intrude. Through the cracked blinds, you see a figure pacing frantically in the office ahead of you.

"This is unreal," the man laments, "Where could she be?"

You freeze in your steps, recognition washing over you. You would know the voice of Frank Hardballer anywhere. There wasn't a single Saturday night in your father's house that you hadn't heard it blaring from the television set, accompanied by all the gunfire and explosions required of a true blue, B-grade cop film. It was really him.

Steeling yourself, you walk towards doorway. The clicking of your heels on the vinyl floor announces your presence, and you utter a prayer not to trip over your blistered feet.

"Janet?" you hear him call out as you step into view.

There he is. Leaning over his desk, concern written all over his face, Wolf Jackson stares back at you.

The grim reaper himself couldn't steal your excitement away.

You open your mouth, and a mess of words comes out. "Um, excuse me, sir? A-are...I'm, uh-"

He waves you away, cutting off your stammering. "I'm sorry, miss. You'll have to come back another time. My secretary's up and disappeared. I gotta start a missing persons report."

"Um, about that, sir" you begin, clinging to your paperwork as he riffles through a pile of folders, "I believe I'm your new secretary."

He stops and looks back at you, visibly stunned. "What happened to Janet?"

"I think the person I'm replacing got on the Soul Train this morning," you hesitate, unsure what that even was. "I'm sorry, that's all I know."

"I didn't know her time was up," he says, bewildered, "She never told me."

His confused expression turns somber as he puts his hands in his pockets and walks over to the nearest window. "She didn't even say goodbye," he continues, sighing heavily, "But that's the way things go in this crazy world of ours. Here one minute, gone the next."

A long pause follows as you stand motionless in the doorway, suddenly feeling like you're intruding on a private moment.

"Here's looking at you, kid," he declares, proceeding to turn swiftly on his heel. Every trace of sadness was gone, replaced with a smile. "Where are my manners? Come in, come in."

Your stomach is teeming with butterflies as you officially enter the room. He eagerly goes to meet you, hand extended.

"Wolf Jackson, Afterlife Crimes Unit," he introduces.

You shake his hand, trying desperately to keep your composure.

"I'm Y/N. It's a pleasure to meet you, sir," you grin.

"The pleasure is all mine, Y/N," he says "It's not every day you get to meet a new face down here. Least of all one as wonderfully intact as yours."

You could sense the compliment in his unusual words. Thankfully, it didn't seem the dead could blush, because your cheeks would surely be betraying you now. Finally standing before him, you're unable to conceal your admiration any longer.

"I can't believe I'm actually getting to meet you, sir. I am such a big fan."

His eyes light up instantly. "You don't say!"

"It's true! My dad and I used to watch your movies all the time. We absolutely loved them," you beam, heart swelling.

Wolf appears as thrilled to hear your words as you are to say them. "Don't that beat all. It's been so long since I've gotten to talk to someone who knows my work," he marvels.

"I think know every line of every Frank Hardballer movie by heart. I've seen them all more times than I can count." Your starstruck smile fades a little as you speak again, "We were devastated when we heard about your accident. That day was one of the only times I ever saw my dad cry."

"Well, I bet he'd be pretty jazzed to see you now," he offers, rushing to clarify, "Not being dead, of course. But you know, working for me...with me. Working with me."

You stifle a laugh as he fumbles his words.

"I know what you meant, sir. You're right. He would be over the moon."

Somehow, this surreal moment was the least strange thing to happen to you so far. One of your biggest idols was just as excited to meet you as you were to meet him. His injuries were not as bad as you'd expected either. The way the media had made it sound all those years ago, you thought for sure he'd been blown to smithereens. Not only was he just as handsome in person, but his presence felt familiar. You could sense your worry fading away, and for the first time since you'd arrived in this unsettling place, you felt safe.

"At any rate, the first day down here is always the hardest," he remarks, "Here, rest for a minute. Put down all that nonsense you're carrying. If you've got questions, I'll tell you what you want to know. You're not gonna find any straight answers in those ridiculous 'onboarding' pamphlets."

He motions to the empty chair by the window nearest his desk, and you're happy to oblige, your arms well-past the point of cramping.

"Thank you, sir." You take the seat and set the papers aside.

Wolf steps over to the front of his desk and leans his weight on it, shaking his head in apparent amusement.

"So formal," he chuckles, "Enough with this 'sir' business. Just call me Wolf."

"Really?" you question, wide-eyed, "I mean, you're still my boss, aren't you?"

"Death makes equals of us all," he states candidly, "But, if you'd prefer, Mr. Jackson works just fine too."

Despite having his permission, it felt unnatural to use his first name. Not yet, anyway. "You're the boss, Mr. Jackson."

He nods in approval. "That'll do." His gaze falls to the floor a moment before he talks again, "Speaking of death...how is it you came to be here, Y/N? If you don't mind me asking, that is. Although I didn't exactly have the luxury of discretion myself, discussing it can be personal for some people, and I respect that."

"I don't mind," you begin, frowning as you recall your own demise, "It all happened so fast, honestly. One minute I was walking home with my best friend from her birthday dinner, and then out of nowhere this big guy with a gun jumps out from behind a truck and starts yelling at us to hand over everything we have. I don't know what I was thinking. I just...reacted."

You pause as the vivid memory flashes through your mind.

"I threw my bag at his face and tried to get the gun away from him. It fell to the ground, and I just remember jumping on his back and screaming at my friend to run. It was stupid, I know. I just didn't want her to get killed. She's like family to me," you explain solemnly, finally looking up and meeting Wolf's intent gaze, "The last thing I remember was the guy throwing me into a wall. I guess I hit it pretty hard, because everything went black. Next thing I know, I'm waking up in the DMV from hell. Nothing but waiting in lines and filing out a thousand forms that I don't understand."

Wolf snickers at your description, and you follow suit before going on.

"I know at least some of them were about job placement, because that's how I got sent here. And there you have it. That's my story. Not exactly Hollywood worthy," you declare with a shrug.

"Are you kidding? That was an incredibly brave thing you did," he insists.

"Thank you," you reply, smiling unconvincingly.

"I mean it. That took guts," he says, shaking his fist in affirmation, "I play the hero. But what you did for your friend? That's what real heroes do."

You could see in his eyes that he meant every word. Even without a pulse, you could swear you felt your heart pounding.

"Well, if I've learned anything from Frank Hardballer, you gotta keep it real."

Wolf claps his hands together and jumps up, grinning ear to ear. "Now that's what I like to hear!"

You can't help but laugh at his enthusiasm.

"What do you say to a little scenery? How about I give you a tour of the station, introduce you to some of the boys around here, and we'll get you all settled," he suggests, already leading the way.

"That sounds great," you answer, standing up to follow, "But while I'm keeping it real, Mr. Jackson, I have to tell you that I don't have any experience being a secretary. Undead or otherwise," you admit.

He stops in the doorway and turns back, giving you a sly look, "And I don't have any experience being a cop."

"That's true," you concede, "but I'm not an accomplished actor like you."

The notion gives him pause for only a moment.

"Well, can you make a cup of coffee?"

You chuckle, "I think I can manage that."

A smirk of satisfaction spreads across his face.

"Honey, you're gonna do just fine."