#he'd probably have her in a mating press because of course he would | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kittievampire · 2 years ago

Note

Could you maybe make a short fic of M/C plus yandere (preferably, Mammon) where at first it's non-consensual, but as the time goes on she gets manipulated into thinking it's all for love? I also think he should baby-trap her and do all kinds of shit to force her to stay with him.

Oh, my darling, of course!

I've been dabbling in the yandere smut side of the Obey Me fandom and HOLY SHIT it's INTENSE

Especially for my first love, Mammon-sama, I'll do anything for my sweet greedy boy 🥺🥺🥺

Lemme see what I have in my bag, my dear~

Click here if you wanna request!

Mine

Warnings: Dark Themes, Slight Gore (if you squint), Violence, Murder, Manipulation, Obsession, Yandere! Mammon x Reader, Dom! Mammon x Sub! Reader, Virgin! Reader, Cursing, Panty Stealing, Masturbation, Smut, Breeding Kink, Teasing, Baby-Trapping, Creampie, Reader gets gagged, Mating press, Non-Con/Rape to Dub-Con

🚨READ THE WARNINGS CAREFULLY AND PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF I MISSED ANY TAGS🚨

Enjoy.

Honestly, he couldn't tell you when it all started.

Probably when you'd first gotten here and he was told that he would be responsible for taking care of you. Yes, that sounds right.

It was then that these emotions started. These feelings toward you, the compulsive need to be by your side at every waking hour of the day. Hell, you'd have to kick him out of your room most nights just to get some privacy.

You were just so perfect.

Something about the way you spoke, the way you handled things, the way you carried yourself. He couldn't help but love all of it. All of you. He'd memorized every little thing you'd shared with him throughout the time you'd been in the Devildom, noticing whenever you cut your hair by even an inch or the slightest shift in your attitude to know when you were upset.

And when you were upset, he always needed to know why.

So he could get rid of your problem, of course.

If you were upset with one of his brothers, he'd go speak with them about it (as long as it's not Lucifer), if you were upset over failing to comprehend something mathematical, he'd explain it to you in five different ways to try and help, and if you were upset with someone the two of you don't consider close friends, he'd console you.

There was this one time, however, when consoling you wasn't enough. Not for him, at least. The first time these thoughts became more aggressive and obsessive. The first time he became truly dangerous.

Mammon narrowed his eyes at you, pulling his shades off so he could see you properly. "He did what?" He asked. It was more like he was demanding you to repeat what you said.

You hesitated for a moment before clasping your hands together and smiling. "He broke my D.D.D. and cursed me out for being a human." You sighed, shaking your head in disappointment. "It's alright, though. I'll ask Lucifer if I can get a replacement."

Mammon really only paid attention to the first sentence. He bit down on the arms of the shades in his hand and scoffed. "See, this is why ya should just keep someone around. As the Great Mammon, I shouldn't be botherin' myself with taking care of ya." He extended his hand, holding out an index finger so you couldn't interrupt him. "But, because ya really need it, I'll go ahead and be your personal bodyguard or whatever." He huffed out, a light blush forming on his cheeks.

You furrowed your brows. "Oh, thanks, Mammon, but I really don't want to bother you with this kind of thing. I really don't need 24-hour protection, I just really wish people like him would learn from their mistakes."

Oh, you were so forgiving. He couldn't help the way his heart pounded against his chest at the way you spoke so kindly about the bastard who broke your property.

He should kill him.

Mammon flinched, dropping his shades and freezing in place at the idea.

Something you need to know about Mammon is that he's not really a violent guy. Of course, he acts like a relatively tough guy, and his title as the second strongest sin in the Devildom wasn't just given to him because the king was feeling generous. He just never resorted to violence immediately, it wasn't the Mammon Way.

Now, though, there was another factor to account for in this equation of his.

You.

While his title made demons fear him enough to where he didn't need to act on any of his anger, he found it very difficult to stop his knuckles from twitching whenever he saw someone you as much as complained about.

However, he'd never thought about murder. At least, not so seriously. This was different. The image that appeared in his head was the demon you were talking about, chained to the back of his car by the neck, and being dragged all around the Devildom. Then, he'd kill him slowly. Maybe set him on fire, too. Yes, that sounded nice.

"Mammon!" You called out, snapping him away from his thoughts. You tilted your head. "Are you okay? You kinda blanked out there." You ask, placing a hand on his cheek to get him to look at you.

Mammon flinches at your touch, a dark blush forming on his cheeks. "O-Oi! I'm alright, human, now get your hand off'a me!" He gently grasped your wrist, shuddering in delight at the feeling of holding you.

You raised a brow, pulling your hand away. "If you say so... Well, Asmodeus wanted me to help him out in Majolish, so I'll head over there. You have a make-up class, don't you?" You ask playfully. Mammon scoffed. "Oh, come on! Ya don't gotta rub it in, MC. Ya jerk." You laughed a little. "That's what you get for skipping classes. I'll see you later, Mammoney."

He was there.

The bastard was there.

Mammon was a few seats away from the guy you were talking about earlier. The guy who broke your property and made you upset. He wasn't paying attention to the lecture, no, he was watching the demon. Staring. Glaring.

The scene that presented itself to him before, among many others, appeared in his head. Many of them were at the same levels of gruesome. The thought of getting rid of someone for you was a little nerve-wracking but satisfying nonetheless. It felt right.

After all, he was no longer an angel. And this was a lower demon, a being of impurity. That means that whatever happens to him down here, he deserves it, right?

This is what Mammon tried telling himself when he dragged the large black bag all the way to his room. The only one who saw him was Beelzebub, but the Avatar of Gluttony was busy with takeout, so he didn't really take the time to try and understand the situation.

Mammon was a little relieved that you weren't home to see this. At the same time, though, he did want you to know that he was looking out for you. You should be grateful that the Mammon is so adamant about protecting you!

"Say, ya think she might actually say yes if I ask her out? I dunno if I wanna do it now, but, I mean... Ah, who am I kiddin'? I'll wait a little while longer. It's too soon, don't ya think?" He asked, making another clean cut to the demon's torso.

The demon had stopped thrashing hours ago. There was blood everywhere, but the Avatar of Greed wasn't sloppy, so he'd placed a cheap mat underneath the chair that his classmate was tied to, planning to throw it away later. Even so, he became irritated when he got no response.

"Oi, I'm tryin' to ask for some serious advice. Ain't ya a demon? Why are ya dyin' so fuckin' quick, huh?" He seethed, glaring up at the lifeless expression that the demon before him adopted. He sliced an exposed arterie and scoffed. "Pathetic. I dunno why I bothered asking shit from a bastard like you anyway."

He refers to that kill as his "first slip."

Mammon had multiple "slips" after that, all of which he convinced himself were for your sake. Demons were going missing left and right. Of course, you didn't notice, because you were so naive. So oblivious. So cute.

You would never suspect Mammon to be the culprit, right? He was your sweet Mammoney. He'd do anything to keep it that way.

While he was growing to love you, more than he healthily should, he still couldn't build up the courage to talk to you. Confess to you.

You'd better believe he tried though.

The first time he did after he'd taken up his new "hobby" was during passing period at RAD. He had you caged between the wall and his chest, both hands on the wall to stop you from leaving. "Hey, human. I gotta tell you something really important, okay?"

Mammon had made up his mind to tell you then and there. However, now that he was right in front of you, now that he could see the way your expression seemed to glow in his presence, the way it made his heart beat so rapidly, he just... couldn't! "What's up?" You ask dumbly after a few moments of silence. He bit his lip for a moment before sighing. "Uh... Actually, I'll tell ya later. I just remembered I had to go do... Something, I'll cya around, MC." Then, he scurried, leaving you standing there all dumbfounded.

Curse his lack of bravery!

You were just so perfect, he couldn't bare the thought of you rejecting him.

His thoughts were swarming his brain. Thoughts of you. He would think often about how your hands would feel caressing his cheek. How soft your lips would feel against his. How tight your pussy would feel around his cock.

That last bit was, by far, the most popular thought in his head. He'd think about it when he had his hand wrapped around his cock, stroking and bucking his hips into his fist.

He'd imagine you underneath him, moaning and writhing while getting pounded into. The thought of you in such a fucked out state was just so delicious. He wanted you. No, he needed you.

But he still couldn't muster up the courage to tell you how he felt. So, he just settled for the next best thing.

Your panties.

When it was his turn to do laundry for the House of Lamentation's residents, he found a pair of white panties stained at the crotch. He lifted them up a bit closer for inspection and caught a whiff of the scent the pair of panties was emitting.

Your scent, your juices.

Your cum.

It was your cum.

Immediately, he felt himself hunch forward, clutching the nearly drenched panties in his fist as he slammed the door to the laundry room shut. He took a moment to process, a dark blush dusting his face as he held your panties in his shaking hand.

Mammon swallowed the lump of saliva he felt pooling in his mouth, staring at the crotch of your underwear, feeling his pants becoming a little too tight. "Fuck," He muttered out, quickly moving to undo his belt, sloppily pushing down his pants below his crotch, reaching into his boxers and pulling out his cock. Immediately, he started pumping himself, desperation evident when he started to buck his hips into his hand.

He caught another wiff of your scent and groaned, hunching over as he pressed his back against the wall. "MC," He moaned out, loving the way your name sounded rolling off of his tongue. He imagined you calling his name as well.

Whining and writhing underneath him as he pushed your legs apart.

"Fuck, fuckfuckfuck." He slammed his fist against the door, keeping his glazed eyes on your underwear. He imagined entering you. Your warmth would welcome him inside of your pussy and your walls would clench.

If only he had your warmth around him.

Flinching, his gaze shifted over to the clenched fist that was pressing against the door, your white panties being squeezed in his grip. He moved his hand, adjusting the pair of panties so the crotch was easily accessible, pushing it against the tip of his cock.

Mammon hissed when he felt your juices push against him, shuddering at the feeling. You must've put your dirty laundry basket in the laundry room the same day you masturbated. It was still relatively warm, and that was enough to make him imagine how your pussy would feel.

Wrapping your wet panties around his cock, he started bucking his hips, grinding himself against the crotch. He let out small pants and groans at the feeling, his hips beginning to stutter as he felt a knot begin to tighten in his lower stomach.

So good, so good.

He closed his hazy eyes, imagining how you'd start to squirm beneath him as he pounded into you, whining and crying out that you were close to an orgasm. "MC, fuck, baby, you're so fucking good for me," He hissed out. His hips never stopped bucking into your panties. Precum started oozing out of the tip of his cock, and he was smearing it against your underwear. "All mine," He murmured out softly.

The second-born clenched his teeth as his hand gripped the door knob, feeling the knot in his stomach tighten even more. The warmth that your panties provided, the visual in his head, and the sound that he'd imagine you'd made when you came; a mix between a whimper and a moan. It was enough to make his eyes go wide, a stuttered groan escaping his lips as he hunched forward a little.

Thick white ropes shot out of the tip of his cock, landing ontop of the juices that had already stained your panties. He inhaled sharply, covering his mouth as if to save whatever dignity he had left.

Slowly coming down from his high, Mammon panted heavily into his palm, a cheeks red, and vision still blurry from his orgasm. It made him wonder how hard he'd cum if you were there. If it was you wrapped around his cock instead of your panties.

But he'd take what he can get, he wasn't too picky when it came to you.

That's why he started stealing your panties, among other things. When your underwear wasn't enough, small trinkets and pieces of jewelry would go missing, only to be replaced by the Avatar of Greed himself. He loved to see the smile on your face as you looked at him, he loved to hear you thank him for gifting you such things.

You were so cute.

Too cute for your own good.

You mean so much to him. Too much for him to let you go.

He doesn't want you to leave. Ever.

Your eyes were always something he admired. He loved staring and getting lost in your gaze, trying to determine exactly which shade of which color painted your irises. He especially loved it when both of you got lost in the others' gaze. Inevitably, one of you would blush and look away.

What he hated was the way you looked at him right now.

Fear was present in your eyes. Tears started to gather on your lower lash line as your bottom lip trembled. "Mammon?"

Normally, he loved it when you said his name. It was like music to his ears, sweet like honey. However, this time, he flinched at the hesitation in your voice.

Of course, he couldn't blame you for being scared.

You'd been waiting in his room, unbeknownst to the white-haired demon, and he walked into his room covered in blood. That, and the horror that was the bloody bags you found in his closet.

His movements were quick. In the blink of an eye, he stood before you, slamming the door shut. He towered over you, the almost-dried blood that had been splattered all over his body was now right in your face. Leather black wings lifted and caged you into the corner by the closet, the leather on his body, as well as his horns becoming more apparent the more you took in his figure. "Ain't anyone taught ya not to go snoopin' around in other people's shit?"

You flinched at his tone. He seemed angry. That's when a tear fell. "Mammon, what the hell was that?" You ask, voice trembling along with your body. The demon before you was in no better state. He was panicking on the inside, trying desperately to form an explanation in his head. This caused him to stare intensely at you, eyes bloodshot, bat-like wings flapping gently beside you.

"S'just some of the trash that bothered ya, Treasure." Mammon's voice shifted from frightening to sweet, a huge contrast to his bloodied and demonic appearance. The new nickname made you shiver. Under other circumstances, you would've loved the fact that he'd given you a nickname, but you were too terrified. The nickname sounded so wrong to you. So twisted. "Most of them either acted out of line around ya, but some actually thought they had a chance!" He smiled, letting out a huff of amusement. "As if those lesser demons had the right to even look in your direction." He took a step forward, and you took a step back, your back now pressed against the wall.

This made Mammon frown a bit, bat wings flapping in slight irritation and confusion. "Why're ya backin' away from me, Treasure? I thought that... I thought that you'd be happy to know that they're gone," One hand pressed against the wall behind you while the other made it's way to your hip. "Aren't ya happy that they're not in our way anymore?" He tucked a few strands of hair behind your ear.

"Our?" You repeated. "What are you talking about our, Mammon?" He sighed, the hand on your hip traveling down to caress your thigh. "Us, Treasure. Our relationship, our love."

You closed your eyes tightly when he leaned in, lips brushing against your cheek as his voice dropped in volume. "Don't you love me, MC?" He asked softly, feigning an almost hurt voice.

You allowed a few more tears to fall as you pressed your palms against his chest. While it was true, you did love him very deeply, you just couldn't condone this. You weren't okay with this! Killing people for someone else isn't love!

Right?

"Mammon, you can't... You don't do this kind of thing for love," You said, hands trembling against him. His hand moved from the wall to grasp yours, clenching your fingers tight as he let a shiver run down his spine. He let out a deep sigh in bliss, feeling his cock twitch in his pants from your touch. "MC, Treasure, I love ya. I love ya so much." He then gripped your wrist, pushing your hand downward.

You flinched when your hand reached the bulge in his pants, fingers gently tracing the outline of his cock. "Baby, look at what ya do to me." He softly breathed out, turning your hand to push your palm against his hard on, his other hand gripping your thigh as he started bucking his hips into your hand. "MC, I love ya. I just wanted to make ya feel better," He looked down at you, the hand squeezing your thigh being used to lift up your chin so your eyes could meet his. "I got rid of the trash that was botherin' ya, babe."

You shook your head, trying to pull your hand away from his pants. Mammon's grip only tightened, an odd feeling beginning to pool in your gut. "Mammon, this isn't how you- Mmh!" He cut you off, leaning forward to capture your lips in a kiss. Your lips were so soft, he couldn't hold back the moan that escaped him as he started moving his lips against yours. His teeth started nibbling your bottom lip to ask for entry. When you tried to pull away from him, he let out a scoff, the hand that was on your chin moving to slap your thigh.

You opened your mouth to let out a gasp, only for Mammon's tongue to invade your mouth. He bucked his hips into your hand once more, his tongue exploring your mouth and burning your taste into his memory.

He moved his hands, pulling away from the heated kiss so his lust-filled eyes could meet yours. "That's right... I guess I should be showin' ya how much ya mean to me in other ways, huh?"

Mammon had pushed you onto his bed, climbing on top of you and capturing your lips in another hot kiss as he started to tug your clothes off. He was truly a being of pure greed, he couldn't get enough of you. He wanted more. And he wanted more now.

You pulled away as soon as you felt your breasts come into contact with the rather chilly air and threw your arms over your chest. "Mammon, wait, please! I don't want this!" You whimpered, tears beginning to stain your cheeks.

Mammon leaned in, one hand hooking around your skirt as he kissed you on the forehead. "But you love me, don't you, MC? I'll treat ya right, I promise." He brought a hand up to gently grasp your wrist, bringing your hand up to his lips and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. "I love ya so much, MC. Everything I do's for you, Treasure. The way I feel about ya, it makes me do crazy things," He murmured softly against your hand. "Please don't deny me."

His tone of voice made you think that maybe he was telling the truth, that maybe he did love you deeply, and that was why he went so far. Maybe this wasn't so bad.

No!

You snapped out of your hazy love-drunk mindset, realizing that the now-dried blood was still splattered all over him. It was someone else's blood. Maybe they were innocent! Well, they weren't if they were down here, but still! They didn't do anything to warrant such acts of violence.

With a swift motion, he yanked down your RAD skirt and panties, eyes shifting down to catch a glimpse of you. You tried to close your legs, but Mammon had managed to catch both of your plush thighs in his grip, pulling them apart and closer to him. Your ass was now on his lap, and your pussy was closer to his waist. He smiled at you, almost tauntingly. "None of that, baby," He pulled you closer to him, your pussy now a few mere inches from his face. Mammon took in the sweet aroma you gave off, letting out a deep sigh in bliss. This was so much better than your panties.

Suddenly, the pact mark on the back of your hand glowed a bright yellow. "Mammon, sto-"

He was faster.

Before you could finish your command, Mammon had torn a piece of fabric from your teal RAD under-blouse, pushing it against your lips to silence you. "Naughty girl." His voice dropped an octave as he glared at you. You had practically been folding in half with how close your knees were to your shoulders. The Avatar of Greed then adjusted the fabric in your mouth, pulling on the sides and tying it in a tight knot around your mouth. "I didn't want to gag ya, sweetheart," He cooed, shifting himself into his former position: where your pussy was a few inches from his mouth and your thighs were in his hands. "But ya just had to be such a brat. Playin' hard to get can get annoyin', ya know that?" His tongue lulled out of his mouth. He maintained eye contact with you as he lowered his face, dipping his tongue into your sopping heat and tracing the line of your slit. You moaned into the makeshift gag, arms trembling as one hand gripped the sheets, the other reaching behind your head to try and untie the gag.

Mammon flicked his tongue against the bundle of nerves that rested above your slit, smiling at the way you squirmed and whined. You knew this was wrong. He was a demon, and you were okay with that, but now you found out that he was a killer as well? No, you couldn't be okay with this. You shouldn't be okay with this.

But it feels so good.

You threw your head back and let out a muffled cry as his mouth latched on to your opening, thrusting his tongue into your heat. Your walls clenched around his tongue, and he let out a moan in response. He wondered how tight you'd be around his cock if you were this tight around his tongue. It made him think that perhaps you hadn't had anything inside of this pretty little hole of yours.

Wait.

Mammon pulled away from your pussy, a mix of his saliva and your juices dribbling down his chin. "MC, are you a virgin?" He asked softly, gold and blue eyes piercing through yours.

You looked up at him through tear-filled eyes and nodded your head slowly. The sound of wings flapping rapidly filled your ears, which made your eyes screw shut.

He'd be the first to touch you, the first to defile you. He was your first demon, now he'll truly be your first man. "Oh, Treasure." He lowered your body almost completely onto the bed, and your eyes shot wide open when you heard him fumbling with his belt.

You looked down to see his cock, flushed and hard, resting on top of your crotch.

He was huge.

Where he sat between your legs, his cock reached just above your navel. "M'sorry," He said softly, grasping his cock and stroking it a few times. "I can't wait any longer, Treasure. I have to have you before anyone else can."

You froze for a moment, realizing what he meant. You should've shaken your head or done something to deny him, to stop him.

But you didn't want to stop. You wanted to keep going. You wanted him to ravish your pussy, love you until he withers away. You pushed your head against the pillow, lifting your hands to grip the sheets beside your head, and spreading your legs open a little more.

"That's my girl," He cooed, pressing the blunt tip of his cock against your hole. You closed your eyes once more, trying to concentrate on breathing as he pushed himself into you. He was slow and sweet, pressing kisses to your neck. "Calm down, Treasure, I don't wanna hurt ya." His voice, so soft, so sweet, made you forget completely about why you were so against this at first.

Mammon grunted at how tight you were, his eyes glazed over. He was trying so hard to hold himself back. You were just so fucking tight. He let out a shaky breath, one hand going down to caress your thigh. "Loosen up, Doll," He cooed once more, clenching his teeth. He was so close to bottoming out, but your hole continued to deny him.

Tears had fallen down your face, staining your cheeks and the fabric that gagged you. You were in an entire different state of mind. The stretch hurt, but knowing that it was Mammon stretching out your cunt made your body feel more at ease.

When he shoved the last few inches of his cock inside of you, you couldn't hold back the muffled wail that escaped your throat. Finally, he was sheathed inside of you. His balls were rested against your plush thighs, and his tip pushed against your cervix.

"Fuck!" Mammon grunted out, burying his face into the crook of your neck. Your chest rose and fell as your breathing quickened. You tried so hard to focus on breathing, focus on calming down so it'd be less uncomfortable for you.

Mammon stilled, and you took that as a sign of him waiting for you to signal him to move. He wanted to take off the gag and hear your beautiful moans, but he couldn't risk you using your pact to stop him. He couldn't risk losing the chance to share his love with you.

While he was in his own head, he failed to notice your squirms and whines, replacing the pleas that you'd let out if you weren't gagged. However, his lack of movement made you impatient, and you wrapped your legs around his waist, grinding the tip of his cock against your the spot that made you see stars. Mammon's breathing hitched, immediately gripping your hips with his hands and looking up at you with a shocked expression.

Then, the surprised look turned into a smug one. "Just can't get enough'a me, can ya?" He teased, dragging his hips backward. You could feel him moving and thought he was pulling out of you. You were about to whine in protest, but you got the air knocked out of your lungs as he slammed into you, his cock pushing roughly against that same exact spot. He started thrusting into you, looking down at your pussy to see how well it swallows his cock, as well as how much of your juices can be seen (and heard). "You're like a waterfall down there, MC. I knew ya loved me, I knew it! All those demons weren't a waste of time after all!" He exclaimed excitedly, picking up the pace to align with the hype of his voice.

Your eyes rolled back as you felt him repeatedly pound into you, balls slapping against the plush of your thighs at his deep and quick thrusts. "So good! So good for me, baby," He threw his head back, letting out a groan as he felt you squeezing the hell out of his length.

Suddenly, he pulled the fabric from your lips so it rested around your neck. "Mammon!" You cried out immediately. He only grunted in response and grabbed the back of your thighs, pushing them up toward you so your knees were inches from your shoulders. "Fuck, Treasure, so— mMmh!— T-Tight!" He huffed out, mind feeling a bit hazy.

All he could think of was you. How much he loved you, how much he wanted to be with you. He wanted so badly for you to love him too. Now that he had you, now that he deflowered you, the Avatar of Greed couldn't stop there. He wanted more. And, in his sin, will he indulge.

If he got you pregnant, you wouldn't leave. You'd be attached to him no matter what.

The thought made his cock twitch and his hips stutter for a moment before regaining a rhythm, albeit faster than the one he'd adopted prior.

"M'gonna make sure—" He adjusted your legs in his grip— "You never even think 'bout leavin' me!" Mammon growled out, feeling the familiar knot in his lower abdomen beginning to form. By the way your walls were clenching so tightly around him, he could tell that you were almost at your peak too. "Gonna make you a mama," He purred out, rocking his hips into yours.

Your eyes widened at this, gripping the sheets even harder as you cried out. "Mammon! P-Pull o-out!" Your whimpers fell upon deaf ears. That, or ears that only heard what they wanted to. "You wanna have my baby, MC? Hm?" He asked, voice as sweet as vanilla, thrusts as sharp and hard as a blade. "Can't wait to—" He hissed as your walls constricted around him once more— "See the look on their faces! When they see you," Mammon chuckled darkly at the thought, greed, love, and obsession overwhelming his senses. "They'll see that you're all mine! I'll kill whoever gets in the way or disagrees! You're mine, MC!" One final thrust to that sweet spot of yours and you cum hard with a cry of his name, legs trembling in his grip.

Mammon couldn't stop. He couldn't stop going until he filled you up, painted your walls with his seed, and permanently intertwined your fates. "Mine! Mine, mine, mine! All mine! Only mine!" He growled out, burying himself deep into the warmth of your cunt and spilling his seed inside of you. He let out a lewd groan, rocking his hips gently to ride out his orgasm as much as possible.

Once the both of you came down from your highs, he pulled out of you, pressing small kisses to your tear-stained face. He lowered your legs to put you in a more comfortable position, wings and horns fading away as he pulled you flush to his chest.

In your exhausted state, you weren't able to think properly. "I t-told you... To... What if I... Get..." You muttered out, eyelids feeling heavy.

Mammon pressed a soft and warm kiss to your lips, one filled with love and care. "Shhh, sleep, Treasure. Ya did so good for me."

Maybe it was the way his words were sweet and stuck to you like honey. Maybe it was the way that he expressed so many times during this exchange that he truly did love you.

Whatever it was, there wasn't a doubt in your mind that the Avatar of Greed wanted you out of everything else in the world. Every valuable item, every treasure to be found, all he'd be willing to give up just for you.

He'd give for you, but he'd also take for you.

The lives of the demons he'd taken so far couldn't be ignored. At least, you shouldn't have ignored it. But he did it all for you. All because he just wanted you to notice him, to love him, and only him.

Eventually, you'd become accustomed to the blood on his clothes, the protectiveness, the obsession with keeping you close to him even though you never planned on leaving.

You didn't need anything else. You didn't want anything else.

All you needed was your first man.

This was fun to write, I hope you greedy-boi lovers enjoyed this!

My friend looked at the tags over my shoulder and said "Why are you like this?"

Thanks for requesting, I hope you enjoyed this, anon!

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thekingofthenameless · 3 months ago

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i saw your DILFFFFFF merlin (i believe that was his name yes? long dreads, dark skin, absolute dilf?) and i want to know everything now literally everything. specifically a compilation of all your favourite quotes from him pls and thank you :)))

Thanks for the question @thecomfywriter! :D

My current description of him (in a nutshell). Black trans aroace icon. Would probably look good in anything and has endless drip in his regular outfit. A highly empathetic, dignified, mellow, and smart person who struggles with schizophrenia, psychosis (as a result of his schizophrenia), anxiety, C-PTSD, and misophonia, but is still kind because he doesn’t want others to suffer what he’s been through. Secretly the God of Magic walking among mortals. Raised a literal dragon.

He’s so cool and pretty <3

Telling you everything would take a while, and might also contain a more than few spoilers (and I'm also hosting a Q&A currently which would ruin the purpose lol), but here's my Ao3! I have nine chapters of oneshots at the moment, and more to come. :D And of course, you're free to participate in the Q&A!

Here are a few of my favorite Merlin quotes from my published oneshots (in the chronological order they take place, not in the chronological order I wrote them lol). I probably have more, both from the published writing, and from unpublished writing I actually like sitting around, but... I'll be honest; I can't be bothered to look for it at the moment lol.

“Sorry,” his savior answered, not sounding sorry at all.

“Charlemagne?” Ganieda repeated incredulously. “Oh, I’m sorry, would you rather have me name him Scorch?” Merlin shot back.

“Maybe I should have introduced you to them,” Merlin idly mused while using the potion. “But I for all I know, Ganieda would have found that even stranger… she’s my younger sister, by the way. Two years younger, in fact, even if she is an adult and married, because for some reason, I age extremely slowly. Every five years is one year of aging. I wonder if you age slowly too?” Merlin wondered, and how did Merlin keep guessing and end up being right? Maybe it was luck, and if so, then maybe things would be better than they ever were with [Charlie's] parents. He'd be lucky enough to stay, he'd be lucky enough to grow up... Merlin kept talking, obviously not knowing his thoughts. “The woman you hadn’t met is Vivian, and she and Ganieda are married. Or you’d probably say they’re mates, now that I think about it. Either way, it’s completely disgusting, as I said. Everyone keeps saying ‘Oh, you’ll be next, Merlin, and you won’t find it disgusting when you find that special someone!’ No, fuck that.” The sudden outburst of language made him want to burst out laughing, but all he could manage was a little rumble. “Seriously, I don’t understand it! ‘You’ll understand when you’re older, Merlin,’- I’m sixty-five, so I’m not sure when I’ll understand. But who knows? Maybe now that I have you, they’ll stop teasing me about it. I can hope, at least.”

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m so glad you’re all right,” he whispers even though the dragon shows no signs of waking.

“Um- yes,” Merlin replies after a moment of them all just staring at each other. Then he turns back to the dragon, murmuring, “Shh. Are you hurt?”

“I know. I know. It’s all right,” Merlin replies, pressing relieved kisses into the parts of his head not covered in blood. “I’m just glad you’re safe.”

“[Charlie’s] not a pet,” Merlin snaps immediately, eyes shining brightly even behind his glasses, and the sudden change in mood is enough to put her hands up in surrender.

Taglist: @gaylightisminetocommand, @the-arson-author-gamer, @honeyxmonkey, @danhengsbestie

#asks #technically #thecomfywriter #the king of the nameless #tkn asks #my ocs #merlin ambrosius #tkn merlin #he's a great dragon dad (insert plea emoji)#on my laptop rn and it doesn't have it. which i'm rapidly finding to be a problem /hj

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freakingoutthesquares · 2 years ago

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Sexual Squealing! Words: Jonny Dee, Photographer: Steve Double Taken from the New Musical Express, 9 April 1994 Transcription: Acrylic Afternoons

After 13 years Pulp are Top 40 virgins no more, having finally lost their pop cherry with 'Do You Remember The First Time?' Jonny Dee shares some pillow talk with Jarvis Cocker and comedian/Pulp fan Jo Brand before making his excuses and leaving to poll various popstars about their very own first time.

Pressed up against a hotel room window 25 flights above the city. With UHT cream. And the whole of the Cowdenbeath reserve football team watching. In the toilets on Concorde. On a desk, On the roof. On a washing machine. They did it with candle wax. They did it in a bin liner filled with sun tan lotion. Up against the bonnet of a hired car, in Safeways car-park, at night, right in front of a security camera. With fruit. On drugs. In the bath with a bottle of Matey. She smeared fish paste all over his chest then they went at it like rabbits. In the rain. With Robbie Coltrane. On a mountain. They did it.

For most people, these situations are ridiculous fantasies. It never really happens like that. For the majority of us, it's damp patches, squeaky beds awkward. Pulp realise this. They know there's a world somewhere in between David Lynch and Grange Hill, The concrete world of council estates, Berni Inns, parks and pubs.

Jarvis Cocker, Pulp, Jo Brand and the NME have sat around a table in an East London photo studio all weekend, drinking coffee, telling each other things they'd never dare tell their mothers. About wanking... "I remember when someone first mentioned the word masturbate," remembers Jarvis. "I raced home to look in the dictionary and it said 'to abuse oneself'. I thought what, like shout 'you twat' at the mirror?"

About friends, about going with your best mate's girlfriend, Jarvis has talked about his favourite celebrity perv rumours - the American singer who enjoyed shitting on a glass coffee table while his partner lay underneath; the hamster story; the TV host who said "f--- me 'til I fart" to the producer in what they thought was an empty studio; the '80s star who went to hospital and had two pints of semen pumped out of him ("Later, it became dog semen!").

He talked about his first time, and his last time and the in between times. Now it seemed as if he'd gone too far - revealed too much. Recently Jarvis Cocker told a magazine about an erotic correspondence he keeps with a woman he has never met. Talking about how it had ruined the salacious magic of their postal affair. Revealing his sexual fantasy now would probably do the same. You don't have to tell us if you don't want, Jarvis. But he will. Because Jarvis Cocker loves to talk. And when you talk to Jarvis Cocker it is impossible not to talk about sex.

Pulp's songs are full of it. Their excellent new album, 'His 'n' Hers', is bulging with songs about shagging, and relationships, and what goes on between two people behind the net curtains: 'Lipgloss' - about being chucked by your lover; 'Acrylic Afternoons' - about making love in the afternoon being more special because everyone else is at work; 'Babies' - about spying on teenage lovers from a wardrobe; 'Pink Glove' - about dressing up to keep your sexual appetite feisty; and, of course, Pulp's first bona fide hit single 'Do You Remember The First Time?'.

Jarvis remembers his first time. He talks about it in a short film Pulp have made about the subject which will be shown on Channel 4 next month. It was in a park in his hometown of Sheffield, at night, behind some privet hedges, about 20 yards away from a bandstand. He was 19 and Pulp had just released their first album. Also in the film, talking about who, why, when and where are a dozen or so friends and celebrities - Jo Brand. Vic & Bob, Terry Hall, Alison Steadman. Justine from Elastica and Vivien Stanshall, among others.

"People imagine that celebrities have this idealised life," says Jarvis. "Again, it's the thing about sex being shown in this idealised light and really you should do it on a beach at sunset and violins are going to be playing. And somehow, if you do it in the back of a Ford Cortina then you've not done it properly. These famous people, all their introductions were as fumbling and untidy as anyone else's."

Russell, Pulp's guitarist, who has puzzlingly brought along 182 pairs of second-hand sunglasses all wrapped in protective plastic sheets, is, obviously, an obsessively fastidious character. Yet he is a man whose current star status - Pulp are on the verge of their much-longed-for Top Of The Pops and This Morning debuts - is anchored to nappies and bringing home the bacon as father to a six-month-old boy and five-year-old girl. Russell's sexual awakenings are, unsurprisingly, the strangest of all. He was 16 on a camping holiday with some mates... "I met this ginger lass and although I didn't really like her very much I thought, y-know, she was alright. So I asked her back to our tent, there was about four of us in it and nothing really happened but in the middle of the night I got all tangled and I ended up on top of this person next to me, doing it. But it wasn't this ginger girl, it was my friend's girlfriend," And was the friend in the tent at the time? "Oh yeah, he wasn't very happy about it, like"

Bassist Steve, a Sheffield Wednesday fan, lost his cherry in a house that backed on to Sheffield United's Bramall Lane ground when he was 16, to a glamorous blonde nine years his senior. Nick, the drummer, rather suitably since he's the sensible member of the group, lost his in a loft conversion "on some nice orange scatter cushions".

Resplendent in self-applied make-up and jumble sale chic, Pulp have the air of a band that has just stepped out of the salon. Jo Brand, meanwhile, looks like she's just stepped out of Ladbrokes. She is here today to share a makeshift conjugal bed with Jarvis for the NME. The scene is intended to insinuate that Jo has just seduced the lead singer of Britain's most fancy pop band. In reality the liaison is far from romantic - photographer Steve Double stands five feet above them balancing on a wobbling plank suspended between two ageing step ladders.

"Could you light up another fag, please Jo?" asks the lensman as the comedian puts out her 15th Silk Cut of the hour. "Oh, yes please," she deadpans, relishing the prospect. Sadly, in true life, Jo and Jarv are not lovers, but just good friends. They met after Brand professed a liking for Pulp in an NME interview and later agreed to appear in the First Time film. Hers was at a party, in the bathroom, with her head knocking against the toilet through the 30 seconds it took her first mate to climax. Jarvis and Jo make a good couple, both are collected and down to earth and from similar backgrounds - both have cared for people with disabilities, Jo as a psychiatric nurse, Jarvis in a nursery for deaf children. "When I first met Jarvis I embarrassed him by saying I thought 'Razzmatazz' was a work of utter genius," Jo reveals. "I don't really like much modern music, my head is stuck in the bands I liked when I was a teenager - The Clash and The Damned. But Pulp are great. I like Jarvis' songs because he realises that life is basically shit, but it's OK really."

That's Jarvis and Pulp encapsulated. For most people, the realisation that life is basically shit and not all Tizer and Cadbury's Roses comes when they're tortured teenagers, Jarvis Cocker, though, had his first Bell Jar moment at the age of five. "I had meningitis, that's what f---ed up my eyes. And because everyone thought I was going to die I got given loads of brilliant presents. then when I didn't die all the presents had to be burnt. All except these crap rubber spacemen 'cos they could be boiled. Things were never the same after that."

Amongst the confessions in the film there is an almost inconsequential long shot of a heavily pregnant mother wheeling a tot in a buggy. It's there to tell you that this, without precautions, is what the sweaty moments on shag-pile carpets result in. More tellingly, it looks as if the woman is no actress but has been filmed surreptitiously. Likewise, Pulp songs sometimes seem like small fragments of life glanced at from outside basement windows, lives constructed from strangers spotted in bus shelters.

It is easy to see why friends readily confess their amorous liaisons to Jarvis. He's easy to get on with, with a gentle Sheffield accent and unflappable nature. It is only when he forgets himself and starts mimicking the NME photographer's southern tones during the photo shoot that you see a different side of him. "Innit, innit," scoffs Cocker. "Taking the piss?" snaps Double half-jokingly. Cocker is visibly flustered. He is not, it seems, a man who enjoys confrontation - especially not violent ones. 'Joyriders' on the album is inspired by a gang of 14-year-olds his Hillman Imp broke down next to on a Sheffield estate. For a moment he thought they were going to attack him: that used to happen a lot when he was a kid because of his height and his glasses. Instead they made him sit in the Ford Sierra they'd stolen, listening to a rave radio station, while they hotwired his car for him.

So when was the last time you were hit? "It was about four days before last Christmas in London, about 3:30 in the morning. Me and Steve were walking back from a party and we saw these three kids on the other side of the road. One of them said, kind of cheerfully, 'Do you wanna fight?' It was said like, 'Have you got a light?', not aggressive, really casually. And while I was thinking about it he hit me in the face and my glasses went flying. Steve tried to pick my glasses up and he got kicked in the face." Did you hit him back? "No."

Have you ever started a fight? "Only once, at school. It was with one of my friends and we didn't really want it to happen but we kind of got stuck in this thing of saying 'I'm harder than you' and before we knew it everyone was crowding round us shouting 'fight, fight'. It became known as the longest fight in school history. I've never liked the idea of hitting someone in the face, it doesn't seem right, so I was trying really hard just to hit his sides and he couldn't reach my head anyway, so it just went on for hours."

Who or what do you despise? "Quality music - this spineless soul or castrated reggae that seems to mean quality, all this 'we're sophisticated us' when they're about as sophisticated as a plate of whelks. AOR music - Phil Collins, Eric Clapton. the main reason being - apart from the dire quality of the music - that by inference it implies that if you're an adult you're only interested in blandness. It's like once you get to a certain age you're not interested in anything exciting any more, you just want something that sounds OK on the M25."

Right now thousands will be having a Pulp record in their house for the first time. 'His 'n' Hers' is a perfect introduction: like a box of chocolates with equal portions of milk and dark, it is scattered with the teenage pop sensibilities of 'Babies' and 'Lipgloss', and with the crooning adult symphonies of 'Someone Like The Moon' and 'Pink Glove'. It is, indeed, utterly wonderful - Jarvis' voice reaching hitherto unheard ecstatic highs, from a Bryan Ferry, to an Ian Curtis, to a cheesy crooner, forever sounding like a man possessed by the music and only just managing to keep his composure.

Right now Pulp are possibly the most fashionable band in Britain, yet to many who have never been convinced by Cocker & co's shenanigans there lurks a deep suspicion that Pulp somehow aren't a proper band. They've been around too long (13 years), they're too old, they're a joke. They are all unpretentious, candid people who treat their fans as friends and maybe this is part of their problem - there's no mystery. Where most bands would spend their record company advance on fast cars and the latest Issey Miyake, Pulp take the train and shop at Cancer Research. Steve, currently homeless, prefers to sleep on Jarvis' floor rather than take up the offer of a free hotel bed.

Most of Pulp are all too aware that there are people who loathe their band for all the wrong reasons. They've read the ground-level presumptions: that Pulp are ironic, wacky and kitch, one too many times. They're hardly likely to carve '4 Real' into their forearms but, says Steve, "Just because we don't take ourselves too seriously doesn't mean we don't mean it." "We didn't set out to be different from other bands," adds Jarvis, "it just sort of evolved. That's what upsets me when people write those things - it implies it's all a clever joke. And the minute you mention the word ironic it implies you're not involved in things, and that's not true. I'd hate people to think I was observing things from a great height and saying 'this is what human beings are like, aren't they silly'. It is heartfelt."

The 'In Bed' pictures finished, Jo and Jarvis untangle themselves from the bedsheets and change out of their nightwear. They sit around for a while, flicking through the 1970s Men & Women magazines Jarvis bought from the charity shop across the road, and talk naturally turns to sex once more. "I read this problem in a tabloid paper recently," Brand tells us. "It was from this woman who enjoyed smearing fish paste on this bloke she was having an affair with. Then one day her husband came home from work early and the only way her lover could get out of the house was to jump through the window. And her question was: 'Can I get the council to repair the window?'"

It is that time once more. Time to ask Jarvis about his darkest sexual fantasy. Has he done it pressed up against a window, in a bin liner, with fish paste? With a nun? With two nuns? "I'm not going to tell you," he says, temptingly, mysteriously. "But it involves sherbet fountains."

#russelll senior #jarvis cocker #pulp #jo brand #90s #britpop #interview #do you remember the first time

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west-tokyo-incidents · 1 year ago

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She told Paresse first, Halloween was getting too close.

"I mean, you're mine now." The sloth just shrugged, "I don't care that you used to fuck an old band mate."

Fusataro laughed softly and nuzzled into his chest, "It's... a little more complicated than that. He's Takuya's brother. He originally covered for his brother. When Takuya bit me, be convinced me not to tell Hiroki and to bite him so he could be part of the pack."

"...so you bit Hiroki?"

She nodded.

"But he's with Takuya's pack?" Paresse sat up a little.

A hesitation, but she nodded again. Paresse heaved a sigh, "Why?" Werewolf dynamics were... definitely odd.

"He knew Hiroki wouldn't expect it from me, used me to turn his brother against his will. Hiroki was mad, but as long as I was part of the pack, he tolerated it." She clicked her tongue, "Until I broke the band up. And broke up with him. When Takuya chased me out, he stayed behind."

"Sooo... he stayed behind because you betrayed him, even though he doesn't have bite-loyalty to any of them?" Paresse gently ran his fingers through her hair.

Bite-loyalty was such a contested effect. It's a real thing, feeling instinctively loyal to the one who bit you. But there's a lot of discussion about whether it's inherently better to be with your sire's pack. Paresse doesn't believe in it, but it's such a strong feeling. As much as he'd like to say he's with Fusataro of his own will...

"That's why he tried to warn us."

"Probably. It's also why he thought I was the head of the pack, since Rage was bit by me, too."

"They follow the Alpha shit, don't they?"

"Yep."

Of course, this all came out to the others soon after. Mizho suggested trying to get Hiroki on their side, but the idea of adding someone entirely detached from the douji to their pack quickly died. They did, thankfully, agree to just chase him off with the others. Once Takuya was dead.

Besides, it's likely the death of his brother would send him off anyways.

They definitely knew the day Takuya found out Fusataro was part of the pack. The scent-marks were not just masked, but ripped up. More than once, a rock flew through one of the windows of the beach house. The thrower would be gone before Rage or Vice could get out to chase them off.

If they were caught now, it could become a legal thing, and getting arrested before the full Halloween moon wouldn't be ideal. So they seemed content to attack from afar while the house was occupied.

Fusataro was surprised Takuya never made an appearance to yell at them or try to chase them off.

Paresse and Fusataro leaned up against each other on Halloween, flipping through the pictures Jealousy had sent of Fusako and the twins in Halloween costumes. The sun was starting to set, the whole pack out on the beach. To an outsider, it would just look like they were all hanging out. Three couples all tangled together as they chatted away the last rays of the day.

There was a nice chill in the air as soft oranges and deep purples took over the forest.

Rage pressed a kiss to Mizho's cheek and gently nudged her off of him as he pulled his jacket off. The brain-fog wasn't as strong as normal, but it was still there. Vice had already devolved into gentle love-growls and whining as Kia playfully teased him and rubbed at his shoulders. Paresse groaned low in his chest. The aches were starting to get worse, the last warning before they would change.

After a few minutes of bursting pain and yelps, five wolves picked themselves carefully up out of the sand and shook out their pelts.

Kia gently pet Vice's head before she changed herself--albeit more painlessly--and took to the sky.

Without a sound, Rage took off after her, listening to her occasional chitters. As he moved... He felt static under his paws. He could think more clearly. After a few moments, the woods became easier to traverse. Paresse was realizing he could use his noh as well.

Rage bared his teeth in a snarling grin.

This was going to be easy.

-----

The smaller of the two blonde wolves fell further and further behind.

Something felt off. He wanted to shake it off. It was just because he was about to fight his sire's pack and that stupid instinct was affecting him...

That's all.

Takuya tripping earlier had been just because of his excitement for the battle. The woods were no different...

Were they?

A storm was rolling in. Not that he could see any clouds, but he could feel the air pressure shift and smell the ozone of striking lightning. Odd that there was no thunder.

He shook his head and sped up as he heard his brother growl at him to keep up.

Something darted by overhead. A little chittering noise.

Huh. That bat was flying awfully--a branch snapped--low...

A snarl ripped through the forest and white suddenly collided with his brother, throwing them back and past Hiroki in a massive of fur and fangs. He yelped and whipped around to help, hearing other bodies collide with their other two packmates.

So fast?? How?

They weren't even a mile out from their home base! They weren't even half way to the beach house!

He leapt on top of the other pack's 'Alpha', teeth gnashing and finding a hold on his scruff.

It felt like biting onto a live wire. Something collided with his side and he was knocked off of the wolf attacking his brother. He scrabbled to his feet, only to find himself face to face with another blonde wolf. She was missing an eye.

"--been fighting longer than you and I have been alive--"

He yelped as she bit down onto his snout and tried to rip himself away, but she lifted him back and up, slamming him onto the ground. Something cracked. He clawed at her throat, but her fur was thick, and long. She just held him down. She didn't let go until he went limp, but even still, she kept her paw on his throat.

She snarled in his face, even as blood pooled in his mouth. He kicked his legs up underneath her, suddenly, sending her flying back and tumbling into the dirt. He clawed his way back to his feet, hackles raised as he watched her get up, too. What the hell was she doing? She should have killed him just then--

He turned to look towards him brother, pitifully outmatched by the smaller, more agile head of this invading pack. How did he move so fast??

He hears a yelp and his eyes snap to the side. He doesn't have to even think to identify Fusataro separately from the other black wolf she's fighting with. They're both attacking the largest member of their pack, who'd just flung Fusataro off and against a tree. Another flash of white, and he saw Fusataro's mate clashing with the fourth member... Who's fangs were already stained with blood, his paws looking like they were made of bark.

"--This isn't a fight you can win.--"

"--stronger than Takuya could imagine--"

A snapping snarl came from the wolf in front of him. She was stalking closer to him, his blood dripping from her maw. He lifted his lips to snarl back, but his jaw hurt. Oh. That's what cracked.

He wasn't going to be able to bite like this, much less eat if she got a hold of his snout again. He started to pant, throwing his gaze back and forth across the patch of forest that had become a battle field. He lowered his head, backing down...

But that was enough. She lunged, snapping her jaws, and he turned and ran.

And ran.

He heard someone yelping bloody murder.

And he finally heard thunder; the deep, rumbling roll of a howl over the territory. Another joined it.

He heard his other two packmates running nearby. A third howl rose. The fight was over.

The fourth howl had him faltering. Had something in his chest burn to howl along. Fusataro.

He clenches his mouth shut, no matter how it burned.

The fifth burned worse. It must have been Fusataro's new mate, one he turned directly.

...

What the fuck were they?

-----

It was over. With a sickening snap, Takuya fell limp.

Rage let his head hit the ground and turned to the rest of his pack, licking his lips. He'd heard Mizho chase off the brother. He lifted his head.

And howled.

The last two wolves looked around, and saw themselves alone.

Vice howled along with him, immediately giving in to the impulse to howl with his sire.

They fled, running after Hiroki. Maybe he'd lead the trio, now.

Mizho lifted her head and joined along, even going so far as to lift her front legs off the ground a little.

Fusataro huffed, looking around. Looking for Hiroki's body, probably. When she didn't see it, she shook herself out and howled along.

Paresse joined her.

It felt like something was missing. And she knew what it was. But it was like losing a ring into a raging river. She was never going to get it back.

After a moment, the howl stopped, and they shook themselves out. Rage, Paresse, and Vice all seemed almost giddy, starting to play fight and wrestle. Their first big battle since they were douji. Fusataro couldn't help but wag her tail at them.

Paresse broke off, play-bowing at her to try and get her to join them. She flicked her ears back. She was favoring one of her legs. It had gotten between the ground and her opponent in a bad position once.

Truthfully, they were all a little worse for wear as adrenaline wore off.

Chittering from above, and Vice broke off from Rage, who just play-whined at him, but let him go, only to immediately begin up another play-fight with his mate. Though less aggressive.

Later, they'll dig up a grave and bury Takuya in it. They'll run through their territory and remark everything, letting other nearby packs know this territory was claimed. Maybe they would try and take more land for themselves in the future. Maybe Hiroki would try and come back, clash with them again. But it wouldn't be tonight.

Tonight, they had a home. Tonight, Mizho and Rage would scout for a place to dig a den for the spring. She and Paresse would hunt across miles of forest, not just one or two miles. Vice would do the same with Kia, helping her find her food for the night and enjoy her Halloween powers.

Tonight was one to enjoy, now.

#ress writes #werewolf au #YELLS #ok im semi-happy with it #not then ending #but the fight for sure.

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wrenqueenisboss · 3 years ago

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Fake-ish Parents — p!philza x f!reader

warnings: cursing (mild), insomnia, mental health, self-destructive behavior, relapsing (mentioned) characters: philza, mumza words: 931

you groaned as you looked at the time on your computer screen.

4:32 am

you had been up for way too many hours. editing, procrastinating, watching YouTube, watching your friends' VODs, criticizing your own VODs, and just listening to music.

but you were battling your insomnia.

insomnia: habitual sleeplessness; inability to sleep

it explained your behavior perfectly. sadly, you hadn't gotten a good nights' rest in over three months. your life a a streamer had taken over and honestly... it had become a cycle. you had gotten so used to staying up late that you began to fill the time, making things worse.

and it was getting seriously unhealthy. you had passed out twice on stream in the past month. chat went apeshit with concern and your friends refused to not be on call with you 24/7. you did manage to let them give you space; they eventually calmed down.

but the person who had been working to help you the most was Philza. every day, he had messaged you:

how's you day been?

how are you?

did you get enough sleep? (which quickly turned into: how many hours of sleep did you get?)

are you taking care of yourself?

and sometimes, the answers wouldn't be great. sometimes, you'd get four hours of sleep three days in a row... before relapsing into only one and a half- sometimes two. when that did happen, he was never angry with you. he simply wanted to make sure you were okay.

"if you ever need anything, just call, y/n," he always said. after every stream, every call, he'd always say it. and that warmed your heart.

so tonight, as you stare at the ceiling, you debate calling him. tears fall slowly down your cheeks. tears of frustration. because why can't you do better? why can't you take better care of yourself? why can't you stop being a burden?

but Philza's words ring through your brain. you know he would be proud when he finds out his daily mantras help.

you pick up the phone that's sitting next to you. press "call" next to Phil's name. and you take a shaky breath as it rings.

it's 2:35 in the morning where he is. the poor man is probably sleeping soundly with his wife. you're about to frantically press the "end call" button when a familiar, yet sleepy, voice fills your otherwise silent room.

"y/n, mate? what's up? are you okay?"

his concern makes you smile. makes tears rise up to the corners of your eyes.

"yeah, Phil. I'm okay. I just can't sleep as usual, but I really want to. I really want to get better. I really want to take better care of myself but I just don't fucking know how."

there's a little bit of rustling on the other line - he's moving around - before everything in the background goes silent. then the man speaks again.

"I'm proud of you for being willing to take this step and ask for help. that takes guts, mate. but I'm also proud of you for recognizing that you need more sleep. two months ago, you wouldn't have agreed. it's a huge step in the right direction. we're making progress!"

and believe it or not, a perspective that might seem overly-optimistic helped you feel a little better that night. it brought a little more warmth to your heart.

and you felt bad asking, but you thought it was okay, so you took that leap of faith.

"Phil?"

"yeah?"

"could you... stay on call with me, please? I- you're really calming and I want to get some sleep and-"

he was definitely smiling softly on the other side of the connection. "mate, you're like Kristin and my unofficial daughter. the entire internet agrees. of course I'll stay on call with you."

and he was about to say something else when another, still familiar voice, interrupted. you recognized it immediately. mumza.

"hey, y/n."

her voice was tired. your call had woken her up. she didn't sound mad but you still felt guilty.

she and Phil...

phil and kristin

dadza and mumza

regardless of the specific iteration, their relationship was perfect. they always loved you. always there to provide comfort. tonight, at 4:37 for you and 2:37 for them, was no different.

the blond man seemed to have caught his wife up to speed on mute because when you hear her voice again it was far more cheerful, yet still calming and kind.

"of course we'll stay on call with you, kiddo. you're like our daughter. we love family bonding time!"

that made you let out a tired chuckle, an almost secretive smile on your lips. "yeah," you mumbled. "family bonding time."

and as you changed into your pjs and brushed your teeth to get ready for bed, Phil and Kristin chatted about their day, their night, their plans, and past stories.

and when you finally curled into the covers, your phone resting on the other pillow by your head, you finally felt exhaustion crashing over you like the ocean waves.

and the mother-father duo, the perfect pairing, the parents of a ridiculous amount of internet heard one last thing from you before you fell into a deep sleep.

the words were mumbled and slurred with exhaustion, but they were still easy to understand.

as you eyes drifted closed and you mind began to attach from really in preparation for tonights' dreams, you said one thing

"you guys are the best fake-ish parents a tired girl could ask for"

the best compliment, really.

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kerie-prince · 4 years ago

Text

daisy cafe

Harry Potter x Muggle!reader

not a request

warnings: mentions of death, ptsd?? (in the form of nightmares)

summary: Harry starts his healing journey after the Battle, and a rainy night after a counseling session brought him into your café

a/n: hope y'all like this random imagine i wrote <3 i was meant to post it last night but i got into a heated debate about ww84 and i don't queue posts so here's this. no lie, i had a hard time writing this lol it's a whole 4k long imagine (whoops) also, when i say 'football' in this fic, i mean soccer lol

(gif cred)

The Battle of Hogwarts.

There was a lot to say about that day. So many perspectives and interpretations from different people. And today, Harry would talk to his counselor about his. At first, he opposed the idea of having a counselor but Hermione insisted that he talks to a professional. Well, insisted probably isn't the word. If anything, Hermione probably forced him into it and made the appointment herself.

So here he sat in the waiting room, sitting awkwardly in an uncomfortable chair. Even the chairs in the Hogwarts classrooms were more comfortable than these. The room was small and had tacky sunflower wallpaper. Harry sat by himself and internally cursed his best friends for just leaving him there and drove off. ‘Call me when it's over!’ Hermione had yelled out through the window.

“Mr. Harry Potter?” a young man called out for him. Harry followed him into the counselors office, noticing that the room was much nicer than the waiting room and the chairs looked more comfortable. And if he was going to be stuck here for over an hour, he better not walk out with back pain.

Harry sat patiently as he waited for the counselor to come. He noticed the golden name plate on the desk with a name written in black letters. Jon Osborne. Harry’s leg was unconsciously bouncing in rhythm with the ticking of the clock on the wall. He didn't think he'd be nervous about it as he was now. He immediately stood up as he heard Dr. Osborne come in. “Mr. Potter, it’s an honor to meet you,” he stretched his hand out to greet Harry.

“Pleasure’s all mine, sir,” Harry said with a shy smile. Once they sat down, Dr. Osborne went straight into it, “So tell me, Mr. Potter, how have you been?”

“Great. I've been busy planning a wedding,” Harry stated like it was a normal conversation. “Congratulations. Yours, I'm assuming?”

“No, it's for my two best mates,” Harry corrected. “They're getting married pretty soon and I offered to help pay for it. Not really doing much of decoration planning, Hermione thinks Ron and I would pick something stupid,” Harry wasn't looking at Dr. Osborne directly, but he had a faint smile as he explained the details. “And are you with anyone?” Dr. Osborne asked.

It made the young wizard think. Ron and Hermione were getting married, Neville and Luna were having fun on small dates, and Ginny was still going back and forth with Dean. “No, I'm not with anyone at the moment.”

His counselor wrote something down quickly before going forward with the next question. “Do you think about it often?” Harry knew what he was insinuating. His breath hitched a bit. Harry certainly didn’t expect to be asked this question so early on. From Hermione’s explanation, he wasn’t expecting to talk about the Battle for maybe another couple sessions. And that was if Harry even wanted to do other sessions.

“You don’t think you need to be here,” it was like he read Harry’s mind. And it was true. “Well, I do have a pretty solid support group. We all went through it together.” Harry rubbed the palms of his unusually sweaty hands against his pants.

“So because you and your friends went through it together, you're okay? Nothing about it bothers you?” had Dr. Osborne’s tone altered just a bit, he would've sounded condescending. He sounded a bit empathetic. It made Harry actually want to talk. “Do you and your friends actually talk about it?”

The answer was clear to Harry. No. If he was being honest, he didn't think there's even a reason to talk about it. The worst had been over, and now that him and his friends and family – and by family, he meant the Weasleys – were finally in peace, Harry figured that he wouldn't have to think about it again.

But the nightmares were relentless. It wasn't like the ones he had when Voldemort was in his mind and showing him things he wanted to show Harry. These nightmares were worse. They consisted of the worst that could have happened that day. Watching his friends die, his professors, his peers. The worst of the worst. And there's one that he hated the most. Being in Voldemort's point of view and killing Harry successfully and for good this time.

Hermione tried to get Harry to talk, but he's too stubborn. So she figured the only way to get him to talk was to schedule this appointment. He was promised confidentiality and listening ears with no judgement. Harry accepted because he knew that even though Hermione would always be there, she would probably say something like ‘You're not alone in this, we're all here for you and with you.’ Ron would listen to the whole thing and suggest getting a drink and food. Harry loves his friends, but it's hard to talk about such things when they've gone through it too. He wondered if they felt the same.

—

Harry was leaving his fourth session with Dr. Osborne. Unexpectedly, he enjoyed these meetings. It felt good to talk to someone outside of his friends. Hermione noticed how he was returning to his old self, joking around and enjoying playing quidditch at the Burrow.

Harry decided on taking a small walk around the Muggle London street before calling Hermione and Ron to pick him up. After ten minutes, though, sprinkles of rain were falling down. And sprinkles turned into hard falls. Harry covered his head with his hands and looked around for someplace to run in. Next to him was a dental office, but to his luck the door was locked. He kept looking and looking for some place to stay inside until finally, he saw a building across the street with a lit up ‘Open’ sign.

Harry looked both sides of the street before running across. He was getting soaked by the second and when he ran inside, his jacket was dripping onto the mat. The place was warm and smelled lovely. Harry took his glasses off and wiped it with the driest part of his shirt. The cafe looked as warm as it felt. There weren’t any guests inside and he didn't find anyone working there. Harry saw the bell on the bread display and pressed on it a few times. After a couple of minutes, a girl came to the front. “Sorry for taking so long, how can I help– oh are you alright?” You saw the puddles of water that were splattered all around the floor. But your worry was with the stranger that was most likely freezing. “D-do you happen to have a phone around?” Harry asked you. He was shaking where he stood and all he wanted was to go home and get into some warm clothes. You nodded your head and went in the back to get the phone. Harry wanted to sit down, but he didn't want to make more of a mess than he’s already done. You came back quickly with a phone and a few rags so he could dry himself.

Harry dialed Hermione’s number and waited for her to answer. She didn't answer the first or second time which made Harry frustrated. They better not be in the middle of it right now. Finally, she answered on his third call. “Hello?”

“Hermione, what the bloody hell have you been doing?” Harry sassed. When he looked up, he saw how you stood awkwardly to the side, surprised that in contrast to his sweet demeanor, he sounded like the opposite. But that was just your assumption.

“Harry? Is that you? Why are you calling from this number?” In the background, he could hear Teddy joyful coos. “I was just giving Teddy a bath, I couldn't hear the phone.”

“Oh. Well, it’s raining really hard, can you come pick me up?” Harry felt your eyes on him still and he smiled awkwardly.

“Of course, are you still in the office?”

“No, I’m– hold on” he stopped mid-sentence and lowered the phone down, “where am I?” It took you a couple seconds to process that he was talking to you now, “Oh, uh, Daisy Cafe.”

“Daisy Cafe,” Harry repeated back to Hermione. “Alright, I’ll be right there.” And she hung up. Harry handed the phone back to you, “Thanks.”

Your hand was warm against his, a warmth he wished he had instead of the cold that enveloped his body. Harry’s legs were getting tired from standing so long and you noticed the shift in his position. “Please, take a seat,” you had gestured to a table. Harry insisted that he didn't want to ruin the chairs, but you didn't mind.

You checked the time on your wristwatch and ran to the back leaving Harry alone. He wondered what you were doing until he saw you come back slowly dragging a large heating machine. Harry stood from his seat and rushed to help you, “Where did you want this?”

“I was going to put this in front of the table so you can warm up. Don’t want you to get sick,” you spoke softly. You felt yourself warm up on your cheeks, somehow shy in this moment. On a daily basis, you talk to loads of strangers and some of them were quite attractive. But something about this stranger felt different.

Harry blinked with an indescribable look in his eyes as he stuttered a ‘thank you’. You turned on the large heater after Harry sat back down and slightly shifted his chair so he could be in range of the heaters’ direction.

You grabbed your keys from your back pants pocket to lock the door and turned the ‘Open’ sign off. “Would you like some coffee?” you offered him. Harry nodded and searched his pockets for his wallet before you stopped him, “Don't worry! It's on the house.”

There was a pot of coffee that was still hot on the warmer and you grabbed a tray, filling it with a mug, creamer, sugar, and a small plate of assorted biscuits in case he was hungry as well. You walked to his table and sat them down. He was in awe of all the things you brought out for him and felt grateful that you would do this for a stranger. “Thank you,” he nodded his head at you with a genuine smile.

“It’s no trouble,” you smiled back. You sat across from him with a mug of your own and sipped on the hot beverage you made. Harry took a sip of the coffee he finished preparing and nearly sighed at the feeling of it warming him up inside. Mixed with the heat that was coming from the heater, he felt brilliant as he usually says.

“Do you live around here?” You started small chat to get out of the awkward silence.

“No, I live just outside Ottery St. Catchpole.” Harry stated. He noticed the confused look on your face, you had probably had no idea where that was. “It’s kind of in the middle of nowhere.”

You nodded in response. Harry then asked if you lived around. After a while, you had gotten to know each other pretty well. He learned about your two cats that are always fighting, you learned about his friends always pulling pranks on each other in the house. As Harry waited for Hermione to pick him up, he was enjoying talking and laughing with you. You two were having such a good time getting to know each other in what felt like thirty minutes, but was actually an hour.

Once Hermione was in front of the cafe and beeped the horn of the car, Harry felt a bit disappointed to leave. This was probably the first conversation he had with someone who he didn't already live with or paid to listen. And it was a bonus that he found you quite attractive. “That’s for me. Thank you… for letting me stay.”

“Oh it’s no trouble. Safe travels on your way home! I hope you don’t get sick,” you waved off as you opened the door for him. Harry ran through the hard rain to get into his friend's car, but once he opened the door to the front seat, he turned back to you. “I never got your name!” Harry yelled out.

“Y/N! What’s yours?” You voiced with the same energy.

“Harry!” You smiled and waved one last time before closing the door and got yourself ready to go home. Harry fastened his seatbelt and held a small smile nearly the entire ride home. Hermione cleared her throat to get her friends’ attention. “How was the session today?”

Harry nodded ‘yes’ in an attempt to not have to talk. Not because he was gloomy, but distracted. He then processed what she said and replied back to the bushy haired woman, “Oh, i-it went fine. Good, great.” Harry was stuttering over his words. It was something that Hermione instantly noticed what was going on. The last time he was like this was when he first met Cho in fourth year. It was nice, she thought, that Harry was not only getting back to normal, but was also focused on something - or rather someone - other than his nightmares.

—

Harry goes to your cafe now after every session with Dr. Osborne. He finally went for his drivers license so he didn't have to depend on Hermione anymore. Ron and Hermione apparate to work anyway, so it granted him more access to the car.

Every Monday and Thursday, you would wait for him to walk through your doors. You would set aside a small box of warm biscuits for him that he seemed to enjoy and remembered how he took his coffee. After a couple of weeks, the people you worked with would give you a smirk and tease you with ‘He’s here~’. One of them, Jo, would constantly ask you if Harry has asked you out yet. And every time, you'd say ‘No.’ only for him to reply back ‘Well, why don’t you ask him out?’

You’ve definitely thought about it, but you didn't know how to ask him. There would be times that you thought Harry would do it before he left, but he’d just be a stuttering mess and leave. So, tonight before he leaves, you planned to just be straight with him and ask him to dinner.

Harry came later than usual today. After he stepped out of the counselors’ office, he checked his hair in the mirror he saw in the hallways. Tonight, he was also planning on asking you out. He likes you and he was pretty sure you liked him too. Once he stepped outside, he saw a flower cart in front of a local bank. Harry debated whether or not to buy you some, but opted out. What if she says no? What do I do with them at that point?

After an hour of having a mental pep talk, he entered Daisy Cafe. He didn't see you behind the bread display like he always had. Jo had recognized him immediately and watched as Harry looked around the small cafe for you. “She’s in the back, would you like for me to get her?”

“I-I can wait. She’s probably busy,” Harry stuttered. He didn't know whether it was a good thing or bad thing that your co-worker instantly knew what he was there for. Is it really obvious? Harry thought. He saw as Jo walked to the back anyway, probably announcing his presence to you. As it turned out, you were in the back checking yourself out in the small mirror that was hung on the inside of your locker. You ran out as soon as Jo said "He’s here" and dusted the flour off onto your apron.

“Hi, Harry,” you greeted.

“Hi,” Harry greeted back. “How are you?”

“I’m doing good, just cleaning up. Did you have a good day?” you asked. Harry nodded his head. He was about to order before you stopped him, “Your usual today?” He gave a sheepish smile and scratched the back of his head, “I come in that often, don't I?” You chuckled and began making his coffee. “It’s alright, I enjoy your company.” The both of you blushed, more so you after the sudden confession.

You couldn't see him, but Jo was listening to your conversation and wanted to laugh. You looked at Harry for any signs of possible rejection and just as quickly looked away to finish his order. Jo came out from the back with his bag and keys in his hand, “I’ve counted the safe for you. Have a good night, I’ll head out.” You nodded your head and thanked god for the interruption, “Thanks hun, see you tomorrow.” He winked at Harry once you looked away as to say ‘Good luck’ and walked out.

Harry became nervous and thought about just grabbing his coffee and going home. He hadn't dated anyone in a long time and didn't know where to even start. Merlin, he didn't even know what to do in a relationship. And especially with a muggle. Harry nearly forgot what it was like to be around muggles after the Dursley's left their home on Privet Drive and Harry moved in the Weasley’s in the Burrow. He certainly couldn't bring you there anytime soon. Especially when Arthur would ask you loads of questions. Wait, I’m getting ahead of myself.

Neither of you knew how to get a conversation going. You took your time stirring his coffee and grabbing the small box of biscuits before turning back to him. You made yourself tea instead, having drank too much coffee throughout the day to calm your nerves. He took the styrofoam cup and box from your hands and purposely brushed his fingers against yours but made it seem like an accident. Your neck stiffened at the sudden physical contact and pulled your hands back. He felt electric and if he let you, you'd grab his hands and keep them intertwined with yours.

It’s now or never you thought. “Do you want to go to dinner sometime–”

“Would you like to go out with me–” you and Harry spoke at the same time. You hadn't processed what he said so you questioned, “Huh? What was that?” Harry thought he heard you correctly, but he asked you again, “Would you like to go out with me? For dinner, maybe?”

YES, YES, YES you chanted in your head. Your heart was warm and you felt a butterfly flutter about inside you. On the outside, you were cool and collected. But your smile could have spoken for you. “Yes, I’d love that.”

—

Hermione helped Harry with looking for nice places in muggle London. George offered his best suit to the raven-haired boy, but Harry declined because he was significantly smaller in stature than the tall ginger, and also because he feared that George would have hexed the suit to either squirt out water, or have random objects falling out the sleeves.

George, Ginny and Ron would tease Harry about finally having a girlfriend, only to get scolded by both Hermione and Molly to stop. “Harry is a perfectly handsome young boy, he should be dating as much as he can,” Molly would defend.

“Ah, but mum, Harry isn't a boy anymore,” George joked. Molly hit her sons’ head with a cleaning rag and returned to what she was doing. Harry had picked a small restaurant that Hermione recommended that was inexpensive but not shabby. He never really liked expensive places or things even though he can absolutely afford them. She suggested that she helped him pick out something to wear, but he stopped her right there. “I can dress myself, thanks,” Harry sassed.

“The one you should be helping is my hopeless brother,” Ginny joked about Ron. He didn't find it all funny as Ron had a sour look on his face and whispered under his breath, “Bloody menace.”

“What did you say?” Ginny stood straight up from the couch and chased Ron throughout the house. She may be the youngest in the house, but it didn't make her any less scary when mad. George laughed at the sight of his siblings fighting while Molly yelled at them to be careful.

Harry finally put everything together – but if he was honest, he was putting together whatever Hermione said – and went to his room. There was still a couple days until the date, but he was nervous. He’s never really gone on a date. There was the night with Patil at the Yule Ball, but that didn't end well. There were a couple hang outs with Cho in the library, but never an actual date. So he hoped that this would turn out well.

—

Harry's breath was taken away when he saw you. You looked absolutely beautiful in the sundress you wore. Looking ethereal, you hadn't noticed Harry across the street parking the car. For a split second, he almost rear ended the car in front of him.

He walked towards slowly after taking a deep breath and held a single daisy in one hand. Hermione said roses were ideal, but he figured he should come up with at least one thing on his own. Your e/c eyes met his green ones and your heart did somersaults in your chest. Once he stood in front of you, you both said ‘Hi’ at the same time. Harry handed you the daisy and you were flattered by the gesture. It was a beautiful flower and you couldn't wait to put it in a small vase and display it at the cafe.

“Shall we go inside?” Harry had one of his hands pointed towards the door of the restaurant. You nodded and walked into the place with Harry holding the door open for you and another elderly couple behind him. He’s so sweet you thought.

The night was perfect; Harry had felt comfortable in your presence. Much like the first night you had met and the times after, you both spent the dinner talking and laughing. This was the most normal, but also best Harry had felt in a long time. He hadn't realized how he never really got to be a young person due to all the insane things he’d gone through his six years at Hogwarts and then before with his aunt and uncle. But here he was with you, doing the most normal thing. Harry’s troubles were lifted off of his shoulders. There was no threat of Death Eaters terrorizing the streets, there was no Dark Lord out to get him; it was just him sitting down and having dinner with a woman that he really liked.

He learned more about you tonight. For one, you were also an only child. Other than your cats, you also liked dogs. And you occasionally played football with some of your cousins. Harry had never played football, but if it was anything like quidditch, he was sure that he'd love it as well.

At the end of the date, he took you to your underground tube station. You walked side by side, hands slightly brushing against another. You walked a bit faster to stop in your tracks right in front of him. “I had a lot of fun,” you confessed.

“Me too,” Harry expressed. You looked down at your fiddling hands while Harry couldn't take his eyes off of you. He was about to say ‘good night’ before you built up the courage and kissed him on the cheek. “Night, Harry,” you beamed at him. Harry was turned into a blubbering, love-struck fool as he saw you walk further and further away. Finally, he yelled out, “I’ll see you on Monday!”

Before turning away into the tube, you waved and repeated his words back at him, “See you Monday!”

—

“Well you're certainly in a bright mood today, Mr. Potter,” Dr. Osborne observed Harry from his seat. Since the date, he’s been talking a bit brighter and his smile is more genuine than when he first came in. “Could it be because you’re seeing someone after you leave?” All Harry could do was smile. “Well I’m very happy that you now have a companion aside from your friends.”

Harry nodded before he replied back, “Thank you, sir.”

“No need to thank me, Mr. Potter. You did this on your own,” Dr. Osborne stated. “Will you bring her to the wedding?”

“No, I don't think we’re ready for that,” Harry informed. This wedding would definitely include magic and you hadn't been close to any exposure of it. “Of course.” Dr, Osborne added. There was a bit of silence after that, which gave the counselor an opportune moment to ask about some of the things that were the reason for his weekly visits. “Do you still have the nightmares?”

Harry’s smile lowered. “Yeah, I do. But not as frequent as I used to have them.” It was true, it went down from him having them about nearly everyday to only get them once every couple weeks. He thanked Merlin you were kept out of his nightmares. He didn't need to see something traumatizing.

Dr. Osborne took notes and set his notepad down. “Well, Mr. Potter. I have seen excellent progress since day one. I think we can move down to just one session per week and work our way down to once every few weeks. I'll see you next Monday.” He opened the door for Harry and shook his hand as Harry left. Harry went to your cafe right after. The daisy he gifted you was on display above the glass bread display in a small, white vase. He hoped that you regularly watered and fed it so you wouldn't notice that Harry actually hexed the flower to never die. You were currently helping someone out when Harry stood in line. Once the customer you were with left, you noticed your boyfriend – at least you assumed he was, now – standing behind a couple of people. He waved at you, and you pointed to the usual table he sat at. It was almost like you reserved the table only for him. He nodded and sat down, patiently waiting for you to finish the line of customers.

Harry was mesmerized watching you work, the beautiful, kind smile you had when talking to customers. Some of them were obviously regulars as you asked one elderly man how his grandchildren were. Once she finished helping everyone, she started working on the usual coffees and tray on biscuits for the two of you.

Harry loved hearing about your day and he wished he could tell you more beyond what happens at home that didn't include magic. He didn't know when he'd tell you about him being a wizard. Ron and Hermione told him that if he were to tell you, you're more than welcome to attend their wedding which was still a few months away now that they have all the time in the world to plan it. He didn't know what to say, but there was one thing he was sure about. He really liked, maybe even loved, how comfortable he felt around you. He liked the way your hands felt in his, your eyes shying away when you looked at him for too long. And he loved the feeling of your warm, soft lips against his at the end of the night when you had just locked the doors and he just went for it. Because in that moment, he wasn't the famous Harry Potter who saved the wizarding world, he wasn't Harry Potter who was recovering from the aftermath of the Battle. He was just Harry, and he really liked being your boyfriend.

At least he assumed he was.

—

requests open!

#harry potter #harry potter imagine #requests open #harry potter fluff #harry potter angst #harry potter x reader #harry potter x y/n #harry potter x you #harry potter x muggle!reader

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stxvercgersslut · 4 years ago

Text

One of the good ones

Description: you always had a bad experience with Christmas in the past due to your bad home life. But your boyfriend, Steve Rogers, and his 4 year old daughter, Lilah, are determined to give you the best Christmas ever.

Warnings: extreme fluff like there is way too much fluff in this one fic and it wasn’t even supposed to this long! mentions of bad family experiences.

Prompts: Gif is a prompt too,

“you’re skipping Christmas? Isn’t that against the Law?” (Christmas with the Kranks)

A/n: yeah I’m late to the party but @chrissquares is just too damn amazing for me not to at least write one fic for this challenge!

————————————————————

“No you have to be kidding!” Your boyfriend of almost 1 year spoke, totally and utterly shocked from your declaration just a few seconds ago. Mouth wide in shock horror causing the little 4 year old Sarah, named after Steve’s loving mother who had tragically passed away during the 40′s, to giggle slightly at how hysterically ridiculous her daddy looked right now.

You, on the other hand, weren’t as amused at the toddler. In fact, you were bored of the conversation already and the love of your life had only brought it up a couple seconds ago to make conversation. But then again you could just have been in a god awful bad mood like you always were this close to Christmas. “You heard me Steve...I’m not repeating it again. Please just drop it?” you pretty much begged at this point which seemed to cause Sarah to giggle a tad bit more since she seemed to find this entire scene quite amusing. Especially with how ridiculous the whole situation was.

But Steve didn’t want to end the conversation just yet. No he was determined to get to the bottom of this. “Nu uh baby girl. You don’t just get to blurt out that you’re skipping Christmas altogether and not explain why” he declared, a much sterner look on his face.

However, those words seemed to pluck Sarah’s attention away from her pretend tea party on the floor and landing her straight into the current conversation. She couldn’t seem to help herself. Especially after what she had just heard.

“What!” The four year old announced in the cutest little voice that Steve had ever heard in his life, causing the super soldier to crack a smile. Meanwhile your expression still stayed static. “you’re skipping Christmas? Isn’t that against the Law?” The toddler added to her previous shock.

You really weren’t expecting that. Especially not from a toddler as young as Sarah was. Yet you still managed to prepare yourself to answer her question. “It’s not against the law. It’s perfectly acceptable to just ignore Christmas all together” oh you should have known Sarah wouldn’t have accepted that answer.

“Why would you want to skip Christmas...” now she looked offended. No, offended wasn’t the word, she was totally and utterly shocked that someone would actually hate a holiday that she assumed everyone loved due to the magical experience. All kids loved Christmas so why didn’t you? That wasn’t something you truly didn’t want to disclose.

“Because” you answered, not having the energy to come up with anything too interesting that would actually put the situation to bed without any more questions. But if you’d believed that Sarah would just leave it at that then you were painfully mistaken.

“Because what?” She answered with her beautiful blue eyes sparkling in the sun light shining from the window with how wide her little eyes were. You really had started a war now.

However, finally your boyfriend decided to actually interject, seeing the way you cringed in thought “Sarah come on she doesn’t wanna answer baby” the super soldier explained, walking closer to you and wrapping his arms loosely around your waist to let you know that he was there. Just because he was trying to help ease the situation with his daughter didn’t mean he’d let this go. Oh no.

"Because isn't an answer!" And there it was, the delicate child had began to press you for answers that you truly didn’t want to expose.

Quickly you sat down on the floor with your step daughter, taking her little hand in yours before digging around in your brain for a answer that you could give to her. “Sarah.....it’s hard to explain baby...I don’t really think that this is a discussion that you really need to be a part of okay?....” you eased, placing a hand on her shoulder as a peace offering to which she seemed to take and just wander even closer to you, pretty much tugging you into a mighty tight hug. For a 4 year old she was extremely strong. Mostly due to the super soldier serum already running through her veins.

After the hug Sarah pulled away, showing her shiny white baby teeth to you before giggling away to herself when she turned around to play with her toys again. Finally you had managed to stop the toddler from pressing for answers.

Steve, on the other hand, was not going to allow this to happen. You were the love of his life, the one that swooped into his life during a time where he had believed true love would never find him. You'd change his life for good and most importantly you were the very first women that he'd allowed into his daughters life. No way was he going to let you skip the lost wonderful time of the year. "And what do you plan on doing on Christmas Day if you're skipping Christmas then huh?" He asked, wiggling his eyebrows which successfully made you laugh due to his stubbornness.

"Well...." you began, scratching your head in thought as you struggled for an answer. It was the easiest of things to answer since you barely did anything. "I'll probably watch F.R.I.E.N.D.S for the hundredth time and finish off a bottle of wine." You admitted, guessing truth would probably be the your one true option.

But the look on Steve's face told you otherwise. Maybe you should have just lied instead of telling the truth. Then at least you would have spared yourself the humiliation of telling the one man you loved more then anything about your plans for Christmas.

Steve laughed, he fucking laughed at you. Not in a rude way (you hoped) but in a way that showed just how shocked and confused he was at you antics. How could someone like you not want to celebrate Christmas? That had to be against the law right? Just like Sarah had said, no one should skip Christmas. “Baby! You really think I’m gonna let you just be alone for Christmas?” he spoke, voice stern as if he was speaking to one of his team mates and not you his literal girlfriend. Clearly Steve wasn’t ever going to let you just be miserable, especially when it was Christmas that was hanging in the balance. No he’d be damned if he was going to let any of what you had planned out for your Christmas alone.

“Well I kinda wasn’t going to ask for permission.” You interjected, knowing that this was an argument waiting to happen but you didn’t really care at this point. All you really wanted was for this conversation to be over and for Steve to completely forget about everything that you had said. not that that was ever actually going to happen now. Of course that wasn’t going to happen.

Steve was silent for a few seconds as he crossed his arms in a slight huff, of course catching the eye of the small toddler who instantly repeated the same gesture in which her father had just done. that in itself was the most adorable thing in the world.

“Well you don’t need to ask permission I guess...but its still not right! I’m not letting it happen.” He spoke, once again using his stern Captain America voice. Which seemed to provoke a little giggle from Sarah before she once again repeated Steve’s exact words in her beautiful little childish voice. Although you really wanted to reply to his comment, right now you couldn’t. It was Sarah’s moment to interject so right now you allowed this to happen. Now that in itself had enough power to cause Steve to finally break his stern facade, letting out a joyful chuckle before turning to his little girl deciding to test how far Sarah’s little game would go.

After a couple seconds Steve placed his hands on his hips he grinned childishly. Sarah once again repeated the action in her little childish ways. So in retaliation Steve placed his middle finger against his nose, Sarah repeated once again. Oh this game really was causing you to burst out into a fit of giggles. It was almost as if she had sensed the tension in the air and just wanted to put an end to it. Which the little girl had done effortlessly. Things like this really did seem to make you realise how lucky you were to be a part of Steve’s life. You just really hoped to god that Steve would never get bored of you.

You had no idea how on earth any of this had happened, but after a few more minuets Steve had began to dance around with Sarah. Wiggling his body around like one of those inflatable balloons that danced around when the wind blew them just right. At that point you just couldn’t hold back the laughter that was erupting inside of you, causing your stomach to ache with how much you were laughing. Now you really had forgotten about the conversation that had once been important to Steve. Little did you know that Steve hadn’t forgotten, in fact it was still quite important to him.

______________________________________________________________

It had been a good couple of house later that Steve had finally managed to once again pluck up the courage to finally speak to you. He needed to make this Christmas one that you would never forget. If he didn’t then he would have failed, something he desperately didn’t want to happen. Especially when you were apart of his life. Clearly he loved you too much to let you deal with another Christmas alone, even if that was actually what you wanted to do. He’d be damned if he was going to let that happen.

After putting Sarah in her bed to nap, Steve slowly walked over to where you were sitting in Steve’s bedroom, a room he so longed to share with you. Maybe one day he would. Taking his time as he attempted to figure out exactly what he was going to say. Although he did have a small inkling as to what he wanted.

“Y/n.....baby.....I know it was hours ago since we spoke about your Christmas plans...but I think we need to continue that conversation.” He began, voice low as he attempted to kee the conversation quiet as to not wake Sarah.

This took you by surprise, your head shooting up from your phone screen to look him directly in the eyes. This time his eyes were less stern. No instead his beautiful blue eyes were softly looking at you as if you were the most angelic creature that he had ever encountered in his 100 years of living. And in his eyes you truly were.

“Steve....just drop it please....I just want to forget about Christmas this year like every year” you replied hoping he’d understand. Yet he didn’t.

“No baby....I’m not going to drop this!” His voice raising ever so slightly as he began to voice his opinion.

“Why? Why won’t you drop this? It’s one subject I don’t want to talk about!” You yelled back, although your voice still wasn’t too loud since you had to make sure you wouldn’t disturbe the sleeping toddler in the other room.

Your raised voice had seemed to throw Steve ever so slightly, confusing him. “Because this is important to me y/n! You’re important to me! And I’m not going to let you be sad and alone on Christmas Day! It’s just not happening” now he wasn’t asking. He was being assertive. Which wasn’t exactly the greatest thing in the world but what could you do about it? Clearly Steve wasn’t going to let go so you couldn’t either.

“I’m alone every other Christmas so why does this year have to be any different?” You challenged knowing Steve wouldn’t like that one bit. But the again you were most certainly past caring at this point.

Once again Steve was taken aback by your words. “You didn’t have me and Sarah back then! Now it’s different you don’t have to be alone on Christmas or any other day because you’ve got me! And I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you be alone when you have two people in your life that love you more then anything in the whole world!”

He hadn’t heard it at first, hadn’t heard those words escape his lips until he saw your face drop. That stern look leaving your features and instead gracing your face with a much brighter smile that he had so desperately missed. That was when he’d realised that the words he’d tried so desperately to keep in until the time was right had now escaped his lips. To say he was terrified was an understatement. What scared you more was how worried he looked now.

“Y......you love me....” you asked with wide eyes, a smile gracing your features. The sound of those words really did seem to shock you. “Y.....You love me?” You repeated trying to get his attention.

Finally you had, that worried expression on his face still continuing to get wider as he tried to figure out if you would run or stay. Clearly terrified that he’d lose you because of what he had just said.

“Of course I love you y/n, I love you so much more then you will ever know. I know I should have never kept this from you for so long. I should have told you How I felt the second that I started to feel that way....” he explained hoping you’d understand as much as physically possible. That’s all he wanted.

“Why didn’t you?” You inquired.

“Because I was terrified of what you’d say...” he admitted, showing you the side of him he was too afraid to show.

“You shouldn’t have had to be scared. I love you too Steve....I love you so so much”

This Christmas was going to be the best Christmas you had ever experienced.

Tag list: @chuckbass-love @harrysthiccthighss @jtargaryen18 @et-lesailes @cevans-fics @amythedvdhoarder @drabblewithfrannybarnes @pumpkin-and-pine @starlightcrystalline

#merryhoemas #chris evans #chris evans cute #chris evans hot #daddy! chris evans #chris evans and dodger #his laugh though 🥺#chris evans sexy #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans characters #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers sexy #steve rogers

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undergrounddweller89 · 4 years ago

Text

(look you don't have to like this, I'm not expecting anyone to, I just needed to write and if there's the possibility that even one person was hoping I'd write more and enjoys it then that's cool, just don't be a dick about it, it's more house mate au stuff, don't hope for continuity by that I mean it's just all over the place and nothing makes sense , just expect what ever came to my head at the time lol)

Walter was sat at his work table, fiddling with one of his new devices working on to perfect it, no I can't think of anything specific so I'll let you fill in that with your imagination.

The day had been long, his lab assistant Timothy Lawrence (Yea that Timothy if you know him because reasons) had been pretty quiet but done as told so at least that made it easier.

He was tired as the day had gone on his mood had sunk, what was he doing teasing Killian like that, honestly spanking him with the hair brush, he knew some of the things Killian had been up to.

But it was more likely a sign of marking territory or just because he had needs right and it was exciting to do things where you shouldn't.

The blade he was handling slipped and ran across the pad of his index finger, he hissed in pain, seeing the blood smear under the blue latex, pooling to drip, focusing on the red colour he hadn't even noticed Timothy running to fetch the first aid kit.

Pulling his gloves off he discarded them and popped open the box that had been set on the table.

"Thanks Timmy."

Walter smiled a little as he tended to his finger, he hated how the skin felt parting every time he flexed his finger.

Cleaning up and applying what was needed, thankful it wouldn't need stitches.

He wondered what Killian was up to, watching TV, reading maybe, did he eat, did he have enough to drink, was he in a depressive mood, was he mad that hed spanked him, he really should send a message.

Pulling his phone from his lab pocket he texted him.

'Hope you're day has been good, hope you're well, sorry if I upset you this morning.'

He shifted and rubbed a shoulder, he didn't realise how stiff his back had gone, being in charge of a division meant he'd somewhat lost track of self care making sure to do his stretches.

Timothy stood here watching his boss, lot better than the last one, this one was kind and genuine, always looking out for people, honestly Beckett made him feel safe and relaxed, he wasn't looking for anything serious but even he could see that furrowed bow and the lean that spelt hey I'm exhausted let me die.

Walking around and behind him he slowly massaged his shoulders, they were small and rather petite for someone Walter's age but it was more lean muscle and just body build, he just hadn't seen many men like Walter where he'd come from, he was rather pretty.

Walter had considered telling him to stop but when his fingers pressed into that one perfect spot in his shoulder blades he melted, ooooh that just felt so damn good and shit when was the last time he'd had contact, had someone be closer to him...he liked Killian...wondered if they could be more, but he didn't believe for one second that they could be lovers or bed fellows for one moment...not that he wouldn't be interested in finding out but Killian had been there a month, like he wasn't going to make him uncomfortable and feel like that the only way he could stay was if he dated him.

(I keep forgetting times or how many days set shrugs just don't expect like decent continuity, I write these because I need to just write things and moments)

Walter leaned forward arms folded and face buried in them

"Sorry sir, am I doing that badly?"

Timothy's enquired nervously, his hands going still.

"No, please don't stop, I literally didn't realise how stiff I was, you have good hands, I'm just so tired Timothy, I could really use it if you don't mind that is."

"Not at all sir."

Tim smiled happy to know he was helping, yes much nicer than his last boss, Walter was smart but he was also fragile, like him he loved his mother and when he'd heard Walters mother had died when he was small he wanted to scoop him up and just hug him.

A talk with Lance at one point and he'd learned that was a natural reaction for anyone with a heart around Walter who didn't have their head up their ass.

Which had practically been the last tech department Beckett had worked in, that totally wasn't cool that they'd done that to such a brilliant mind, it was so much fun working on items that didn't kill people and actually helped them!

Walter was imagining the fingers loosening the knots in his back were Killian, wondered what that would feel like with those pretty metal claws, but he never forgot it was Timothy, after all Timothy deserved more respect than that.

Looking over his shoulder at him, auburn hair flopping off to one side, Tim's hands on his waist he noticed the subtle blush.

"You wanna go grab some dinner or something in a minute there's a corner café I know, makes steak sandwiches and baked potatoes with a perfect crispy skin, a warm meal sounds pretty nice don't you think?"

Tim in the angle he was in was trying not to think about how suggestive this looked, he would absolutely lean down and kiss Walter if he thought it was an option, it really was a casual thing he felt, but Walter just looked so pretty and like he needed someone to carry him right now.

Continuing to rub his back Timothy nodded

"Yeah that sounds pretty nice actually."

---

At home Killian had found plenty to do, he'd read, watched tv, all in Walters bed of course, just to feel close to him as he could, he did wonder after handling himself, if Walter could see him as anything more than a friend, someone more than a few passing jokes between the other...turning his head and taking in his scent as he buried his face into a pillow again, looking forward to seeing those blue eyes...he should really get out of Walter's bed and get the covers washed.

Beckett brought comfort to his mind after his years of suffering, the sunrise after the storm.

He'd talked to Lovey, wondering if she could understand him, she was surprisingly responsive to his rambling as he worked on his arm, updating the tech and keeping up with maintenence.

Living here with Walter and slowly working past things with Lance and seeing he had genuinely started changes of his own, it made it easier with how Walter talked about him on the job, that he considered all options before violence and discussed the situations with him...it was good to know Beckett had helped Lance to.

He was glad to know Walter's field partner was a good one, though his lab partner, this Timothy Lawrence seemed to be pretty chummy didn't he, he'd seen a picture, thick brown hair, heterochromia eyes, blue and green to be exact and a chiseled jaw, in other words a damn pretty boy and he didn't want him around Walter.

He huffed folding his arms, yes he was jealous he was going to be pouty, before his injury he had thick black hair and had been known to be a very handsome man, now he looked like he'd been put through a grinder when he took off his holo mask and this Timothy Lawrence just had to be Walter's lab partner, he'd be around him alot and-

His phone buzzed, it'd been put on the side table and he read the text that'd come through and there was another one.

'Going out to dinner with Timothy, don't know what time I'll be back, have fun you probably need a break from me anyway lol 😂'

Killian's eye twitched, he nearly threw the damn phone, but how would he explain that, honestly he couldn't, Tristan sighed, shoulders drooping a little and answered his questions

'It's been a relaxing day, did work on the arm, Lovey' s surprisingly easy to talk to, watched a little television but perhaps you could suggest something to watch, it's rather hard deciding with all these options and no Walter you didn't upset me, though you left in a hurry, you do not need to avoid me. You're not a bother. Are you alright?'

'I'm so happy you're warming up to her! That's awesome! Also it's good you have time to relax, ten years of hectic stress you're more than overdue! I...well I was more embarrassed than anything, I reacted on instinct, last boyfriend liked that well that's probably more than you needed to know, but yeah I'll help you pick something to watch see you later!'

Last boyfriend? Spanking, Walter had, he had...Killian shifted well the blankets were starting to tent, the idea of being put over Walters petite lap and being told he was a very bad man came to mind.

He liked it.

A lot.

He looked at his phone as it pinged again.

'And god damn it, make sure you eat something for dinner, don't just go picking out the cupboard!'

Killian snickered and replied

'Yes Daddy, I'll make sure to eat something.'

After sending the text he realised what he'd written and wished he could take back that text, wincing as he managed to look at the response

'Behave, eat dinner or I'll put you over my knee young man.'

Killian stared and stared at that answer, he knew Walter was just teasing but, his cheeks were warm and he was...was he blushing.

----

"You all set to go Timothy?"

Walter smiled, his back was feeling a hundred times better after Timothy had dug into the knots, it wasn't a surprise that he was good with his hands, you had to have nimble ones to work with the tech they used here.

"Yeah, just coming boss!"

He pulled his satchel over his shoulder after pulling on his old brown leather jacket

"Please Timothy don't call me that, call me daddy."

Walter laughed at how silly that sounded

"I'm sorry, pfffft don't call me that god please, no, Walter's just fine."

Tim had paused a moment a slight fear he might have a streak like his last boss after all but that laugh was too warm and giggly and just shook his head with a smile

"Wouldn't dream of it Walter, you're more of a kitten anyway."

Timmy felt his insides tighten a little and there was that hint of Jack Dna surfacing.

"So shall we go?"

Beckett enquired looking up at him, huh he kinda looked like Killian, just a little.

"Ready when you are."

And with that they were off.

(Alright end of this ramble, Timothy has been thrown in because I needed the gasp drama of prolongation and shit and didn't have the energy to create an oc and honestly I'll mash anything from anywhere if it's convenient bleh)

#Spies in disguise #Au #walter beckett #Killian #Timothy lawrence #I don't even know anymore #Sometimes I just write and bs comes out #I'm tired

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ekleipsi · 3 years ago

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" he likely forgot, you know. i didn't, " a chuckle slipped free as the cake was getting its finishing touches --- made with the help of their wife of course, it was a considerably different kind of birthday for both the boys now that there was another in their life. and while this also meant it was ignis' birthday aswell, he put very little importance to it, especially given that the number... wasn't as impressive as his mate's --- a big round fifty, and he wanted to make it special. it would probably also be the only time he'd allow the bird to have cake for breakfast. " can you go wake him up? " gaze was turned to rashida, with an expectant tilt of his head.

--- Fingers were careful in pouring the mirror glaze over the top of the cake while husband delicately smoothed it out so reflective shine was as its best. ' Is he forgetful like that? ' she'd never indulged in a birthday with them before, but she'd heard about it in the week leading up, if only due to the hound remember as much, as he'd said. The story of how avian had chosen the day to share as a birthday for him only made her smile, finding it uniquely sweet; birthdays were not the ordeal they were today, back in her youth and so she'd never made a fuss about knowing Ig's, or celebrating her own.

--- ' That's because you're a romantic... ' she mused softly, chuckling to herself and offering a smile as emeralds lifted to meet rubies in adoration. Being together with the both of them felt...complete. It made her feel whole in a way she hadn't in centuries. ' Yeah, I'll go get him. ' a nod, pressing a kiss to husband's cheek before padding down the hall to their bedroom. Entirely expecting the bird to be tucked into the blankets like the baby he was, she was surprised to find him awake and on the floor, legs akimbo with plain paper and twine.

--- Sapphires were lifted in surprise, the sound of the door opening causing him to scramble to try and hide the surprise- though upon seeing it was only wife, he relaxed and exhaled a heavy sigh. ' Can you help? Fuck tying this... ' he complained, nose wrinkling as he held out the wrapped box to scorpion. A faint smile tugged at lips, before she nodded and sat down with him, taking his hands in her own and guiding them into properly tying a bow with the simple string.

--- ' He expected you to be asleep, you know... ' she spoke, voice near a whisper if only because she understood the elder's ears were sensitive.

--- Avian scoffed, before indignant expression melted into something soft all on its own until he was nodding, as well. ' Yeah. He's...like that. He thinks about me so much that he forgets it's his birthday, too...I've been making this for him, which is a pain when he's around so often...just hadn't wrapped it yet. ' he explained, brandishing the box, finally put together like so.

--- ' What is it? '

--- ' The gift? '

--- ' Well, what else? '

--- ' You'll see. ' he hummed, the words vaguely ominous before he watched the shorter push herself from the ground and offer him a hand. Helped to his feet and in little more than basketball shorts and an open backed shirt, he followed the elder into the kitchen just a pace behind, fingers idly laced while gasping at the box in his free hand.

--- Scorpion looked quite amused on her own, entering the kitchen with bird in tow and glancing up at Ignis with a chuckle. ' Look who I found awake... ' she hummed out, pressing a kiss to Naoto's cheek and then Ignis' own only to step aside and lean against the doorframe, eager to see the events unfold. Being her first birthday with them...she wanted to learn all she could.

--- Nose was wrinkled at the teasing introduction before younger looked up at husband with a tilt of his own head. ' Happy birthday, Ig. ' he grinned, all the disdain and irritation evaporating from his features as he presented the box to his lover; he hadn't even noticed the cake at first, so eager to give him the gift he'd worked hard so hard on. Inside was a sheaf of hand made and pressed paper, the nature of its creation giving it a rather old and dated vibe- beside the paper itself was a small stoppered glass with handmade ink, and of course, two new quills made from the bird's own feathers. He'd been curing and treating them for a few days to ensure their quality...all of it had taken a couple weeks, but in these several moments, he was positive the effort was worth it. Presenting his husband with handmade stationary, like so.

--- Only after the wrapped gift was taken, did his attention shift to the cake- even before Ignis was able to open it, eyes went wide in eager anticipation. Already he was salivating, fingers balling into fists with delight before he beamed. ' It's so shiny! It looks really great! Can...I have some!? Do I have to wait!? ' so like a child, in many ways despite being 50 now, and yet. Every year spent with the man before him made him feel perfectly at home and comfortable.

#don’t wanna come back down from this cloud | nao & ig & ra |–;#BIRTHDAY BIRTHDAY BIRTHDAY #he doesn't care about his #BUT he takes ig's v seriously #uwu #hellguarded #it was just so cute though i'm crying

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fritae · 4 years ago

Text

The Missing Piece - Ch 10

Worries 🌸

gang! au / ceo! au

characters: dabi x f. oc, lov

status: ongoing

read on ao3 here.

I spend hours turning in bed, replaying Dabi's words to me earlier.

He cares about me.

Right?

That's the only way I could interpret what happened. He got angry on my behalf, even though he didn't look it.

My cheeks redden as I recall how warm he was to hold, despite most certainly being the most awkward hugger I've ever met. I wrap my arms around myself, trying to remember what it was like.

It wasn't a short hug...but I wish it was longer.

Snap out of it, I tell myself with a groan.

I'm so touch starved I can't believe a hug from Dabi would make me feel this way.

I jolt in bed when I hear the front door open.

"Aliyah?"

Within moments, my suite mate bursts into my room, jumping onto my bed.

"Who is he?!" She screams with glee. "That's your boss?!"

My heart paced with excitement. "Yeah. Nice, right?"

"Nice?!" She jumps up again. "He's so hot - but something about him -"

She suddenly stops.

"What?" I ask her cautiously.

But after a few moments of consideration, she shrugs. "I don't know, forget it. I feel like I've seen him before."

I shrug. "Might have run into him at a corporate event or something? The company may not be all that but Dabi looks like he's been around."

She nods. "You're right, that's probably it. And oh my god," Her voice picks up, that excitement creeping in again. "Mr. Lane's face! He's so pissed you don't even know, oh my god, he's probably still fuming! He didn't even last for the whole dinner, he called his new secretary and told her to run a background check on Mr. Dabi and the company."

"He's a psycho," I laughed. But then a troubling thought occurred to me. "But he wouldn't do anything to the company, would he?"

Aliyah shrugs. "Beats me. You can never tell with Mr. Lane."

I shake the thought out of my head. Choosing to focus on the good (and the fact that Aliyah is here early for once!), I eagerly share what life has been like for me at the Blaze. I leave out certain details of course, especially those conferencing Dabi and company intel, but I'm overjoyed by Al's interest.

And when we finally say goodnight, hours after we were supposed to, I lay in bed again - already thinking of tomorrow.

- --

"Dabi won't be in today," Tenko tells me in the morning.

I pout.

"Why not?"

He shrugs. "He told me and Jin to put a pause on new intake for the next few days so I don't think there's much to do, either. Honestly, if you want to go home from now, you probably can."

He didn't ask for any updates or give me instructions this morning either. I thought maybe he was waiting for me to come in to let me know what we'd be doing today.

He said he'd see me tomorrow, I remember. I try not to feel disheartened. He's a CEO, after all.

It's just...I was looking forward to seeing him today.

"You gonna go?" Tenko snaps me out of my thoughts.

"Oh," I say apologetically. "Nah, I'm used to being here all day. I'll try to make myself useful somehow."

I leave him and head for Dabi's office and go through his correspondence, rescheduling any meetings he would have had today or tomorrow for later in the week. If he isn't in the office today, he'll likely want to be briefed whenever he comes in. He won't be in the mood for a meeting.

Hours and hours pass as I spend my time overlooking the company employees and making a record of potential clients.

After I finish a few late night phone calls for Dabi and make notes of the most urgent things he should know when he comes in tomirrow, I decide to go find the others.

But when I walk into the lounge, the only ones I find are Atushiro and Toga. They're huddled together on the couch, talking in hushed tones.

It is pretty late at night. Perhaps they went home already.

"Hey guys," I say with a smile, carrying a few sodas with me. Immediately, they sit back and put some distance between them.

"Hey," Toga says. They accept the sodas with a smile.

"What've you been up to?" I ask them. I pop open my can. "It feels like there isn't much to do today."

"Why do you sound upset about that?" Atsuhiro comments with a laugh.

I get flustered at that. "I know, I know. I'm a workaholic. I don't know what to do with my life outside of work."

"Go home!" Toga says with a groan. "You've done more than enough today! Dabi specifically didn't give us work and you're over here doing extra."

I groan. "I don't want to go home though, what would I do?"

They both laugh. "Normal people things! Watch a show, paint your nails, order Chinese - you know, hashtag self care or whatever."

I roll my eyes, stalling for time. I don't know why, I just don't feel like going home just yet.

I put my phone down and lay back on the couch.

"Maybe I'll just stay here."

"Go home!" They shout.

I laugh and put my legs down.

"How come you guys aren't going home?"

The two of them share a look.

"We have things to take care of later tonight." Atsuhiro says.

That makes me sit up. "Ooh what kind of things? For Dabi?"

He nods.

I feel a pang in my chest. Why did he give them something to do and not me?

But they've been here longer, I try to reason with myself. They're friends and partners. He's known them for years. If anything urgent comes up, of course they'd be the ones he reaches out to.

I think quickly. "Is he coming in later or something?"

Toga hits me. "No, he isn't. Are you trying to find an excuse to do more work?"

I shake my head with a laugh, but I secretly feel...disappointed. It's not that I want more work, I just...was hoping to see him. Work just happens to be the only way I can do so.

Of course he isn't coming in later, though. It's already 10pm. Most of the company clocked out hours ago. And he undoubtedly has things to do if he hasn't come in.

He didn't even have time to respond to my text.

"Okay," I sigh in defeat. The two high five each other, and I pout as they lead me downstairs.

"I'll be back tomorrow," I tell them quickly as I leave. "If you guys need anything at all, just shoot me a text!"

"We'll be good, don't worry about us!" They wave.

I shove my hands in my pockets and make my way to the bus stop.

They'd text me, right?

But something dawns on me just before I get to the bus.

I freeze, my fingers digging around.

But there's nothing.

I pat all around me and check my purse for good measure.

"Shit, I forgot my phone!

I quickly run back to the Blaze.

---

I enter the marble doors again, only for some reason there's something different in the air.

As I make my way upstairs, I hear a murmur of activity. There's a frown on my face as I try to figure out what is going on.

I head up to the lounge, but this time it is empty and the lights are all off.

The only sounds come from Dabi's office at the end of the hall.

Is something wrong? I wonder with a frown.

I make my way to his office, my heart pounding in place.

With a single knock, I turn the knob. And my heart falls as I lock eyes with Dabi sitting behind his desk.

Dabi immediately sighs, rubbing his eyes in exhaustion. "Shit."

"What's going on here?" I ask.

Standing around him are Tenko, Jin, Toga and Atsuhiro, the last two staring back at me with wide eyes.

No one answers me.

I look from one face to another.

Eventually Dabi looks up at Jin, an unforgiving glare in his eyes. "What the fuck happened to she left?"

Jin shrinks under his gaze. "That's what Toga told me!"

I feel my heart fall. Was he avoiding me?

"Do...you not want me around?" I swallow.

I don't look at him as I ask, afraid of what I might find in his face. So he was. I glance around, hooking my purse on my shoulder and turn around. "Sorry, I just came back because I forgot my phone. I'll- I'll go-"

Dabi pushes his chair back. "Rina, wait-"

But when I look back at him, I gasp.

My hand unconsciously covers my gaping mouth.

"Dabi, you're- you're..."

He's bleeding.

Not a drop or two this time.

But a circle of red adorns his lower left side. He holds a now equally red rag to the area to stop the flow. I look at him in horror but he turns his face away from me.

"Fuck," I hear him mutter through gritted teeth.

"Dabi, what's-" I feel my eyes water.

I immediately run up behind his desk, my hand clutching the one he holds to his wound.

"What's wrong? You're gonna be okay, right? What do I do- we need to take you to a hospital - Toga, help me! You're gonna be okay Dabi, I'm here."

Toga shuffles forward but Dabi glares at her. "I'm not going to a fucking hospital, I'll be fine." I feel bad for the way he yells at her. After all, it was my suggestion. "I just need to stop the bleeding."

I turn back to look at the others, but the lack of shock on their faces stuns me.

"Did you guys know about this?"

Atsuhiro runs his neck and avoids my gaze too. Suddenly the frequent questions about when I'd go home made sense.

"I see." My voice cracking. "Is that why you guys were waiting for me to leave?"

"Well, that NNTV douchebag-"

"Toga!" Dabi growls.

I turn to Dabi, my blood turning to ice. "Does this have something to do with Mr. Lane?"

He ignores me. "Take everyone and leave." He tells Toga. When they don't move immediately, Dabi snaps. "Now."

The team scrambles out the room. If it weren't the circumstance, I'd laugh when Jin stumbled. But as soon as we're alone, I turn back to him and clutch the lapels of his jacket.

"Don't lie to me," I say. "Please Dabi."

The man groans and sits back on his chair, as if there wasn't blood dripping out of his side. I pull up a seat and sit next to him, my hand closing in on his, holding the rag in place.

"We're gonna have issues with Lane," Dabi mutters. "I uh, went to see him today. But...it's like he was expecting me."

"Why would he be expecting you?" My mouth drops. "You mean to tell me Mr. Lane did this to you?"

Dabi sighs.

When he takes to long to reply, I press the rag harder.

"Hey!" He grimaces. "Okay, okay. You know how I told you I have business to take care of on the side?"

"Yes."

"Well. I think he found out a couple things."

I lean in closer. "My friend told me about that! She said he ordered a background check on you, he wanted to know everything."

Dabi shrugs. "Yeah well, if he knows who I am, then he doesn't just have everyday knowledge. He probably deals with shady shit too."

Too?

My heart pounds in fear.

"And who the hell told you to go pay him a visit!" I hit his arm. Dabi immediately groans and I recoil. I cautiously touch his arm. "Sorry."

He shakes his head.

I motion for him to go on as I find a little bowl of water under his desk.

As he talks, I absentmindedly take the rag and rinse it into the bowl. He probably intended to do that himself had I not come in. I squeeze the blood out and just as I am about to press it against his skin, I wince at the sight. The blood was dripping out slowly, meaning the wound wasn't too deep. But that's clearly a stab wound. Dabi got close enough to someone that they were able to pull a knife on him.

What if it had been worse? What if I had lost him today?

"Dabi," I interrupt him. He looks down at me, the blue in his eyes could be green in this light. I softly brush my thumb against the wound. His eyes darken in response, and I feel my heart ache at the way he grabs my hand. "Stop."

"Who told you to go to him, you idiot," I punch his arm again. "What the hell were you thinking."

He grips both my hands now. "I had to send a message."

"What kind of stupid message was worth this?"

"Now he knows not to mess with my people." Dabi replies. My eyes go wide.

I'm part of his people.

The thought brings a blush to my cheeks and I get angry at myself. Look where that got him.

If he is like this after hearing one conversation between me and Mr. Lane...

"Besides..."

I wipe my eyes into my elbow.

"He probably won't be taking any more cars for a while now," Dabi smirks. "If that guy of his didn't pop up out of nowhere.."

He leaves that open ended.

Did Dabi really plan on hurting Mr. Lane?

The thought sends a shudder down my spine.

Just who was Dabi.

What did Mr. Lane find?

"Were you going to..." I whisper. "..you know."

Dabi looks completely nonchalant, as if he had gone to leave Mr. Lane flowers or something.

"I was just gonna scare him." He says, and despite everything, it sounds honest. "Sure, he didn't think I'd go that far. But I miscalculated too. Now I gotta fuck him up before he tries to fuck me up."

I swallow. Is this what Dabi meant by information comes with a cost over here?

"I'm sorry Dabi," I tell him, my tears falling over my now bloody hands. "I didn't want you speaking to Mr. Lane and if I-"

"Relax," Dabi cuts me off. "I'm going to make use of that guy. I'm just trying to find the right moment."

I let go of the rag.

"You can't be possibly planning on seeing him again."

Dabi doesn't respond.

The tears start to fall again. "You promised me I wouldn't need to worry about you," I say, my voice getting shakier and shakier. "You said goodbye and see you tomorrow, knowing you were fucking going to Mr. Lane today!"

Dabi looks at the door in alarm, and his eyes narrow. He grabs the hand I'm waving in his face and I could tell his patience was running thin. "Rina, I'm trying here. If you saw what Mr. Lane looks like now you wouldn't be so worried about me. But I'm gonna need you to lower your voice."

I turn my face away from him and wipe the tears from under my eyes. Dabi suddenly gives me a weird look and I glance at my hands.

Fuck.

I grab a napkin and rub the blood off my face until I can wash it off later.

He watches me cautiously. I don't meet his eyes as I take the rag off to rinse it again.

"Stop moving," I mutter, lightly dabbing his skin with the wet cloth.

Dabi hisses.

"Sorry. Does it hurt?"

Dabi groans. "I can take care of myself, you know."

"Just...shut up. Stop moving so much."

Dabi grows silent.

For the next half hour, I continue my ministrations, avoiding his gaze. I know having me so close to him makes him slightly uncomfortable. But I don't care.

"Take off your shirt," I tell him once the bleeding seems to stop. "I'll try to wrap it up."

"No."

I look at him, my eyes ever more hurt.

"No," He repeats, his voice more stern. "I'll do it myself later."

Without thinking, I lean against him and close my arms around his torso.

"I know you keep saying not to worry but what am I supposed to do when you walk in looking like this?" I whisper against his chest.

He looks up at the ceiling, trying to hold his breath.

"You've gotta stop doing that, princess."

My heart beats faster.

"Or what?" I challenge him, hugging him tighter.

He glances at my lips ever so briefly and looks away.

"You'll fuck me up."

I ignore him and hug him anyway, not caring about the stains that undoubtedly cover my shirt now.

I don't know long we stay that way.

Dabi doesn't hug me back this time...but he doesn't move away either.

I wish I could know what he was thinking. What he means by Mr. Lane knowing who he is, and what uses he may have for him. What he did to him today and how he was able to slip free.

But every day, I discover that more and more secrets exist between us.

#dabi #todoroki touya #dabi fanfic #dabi fic #dabi angst #dabi x oc #dabi fluff #dabi x female reader #touya fluff #bnha fic #touya todoroki #mha #mha fic #league of villains #anime #anime fanfiction

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haddonfieldproject · 4 years ago

Text

<<PREVIOUS⏺<<CONTENTS>>

1.2.21 HALLOWEEN NIGHT/NOVEMBER 1st AROUND SUNRISE

Haddonfield, Illinois

Rosalita craned her neck to see the time. There was no clock in the supply closet, no light now to see a clock if there was one, the power had gone off shortly after Sheriff Brackett had left her here. When that lightning hit, she thought. She knew the lightning had something to do with it. The Sheriff's daughter, who lay in a hospital bed that took up virtually all of the room in the storage closet, had an IV hooked up to her arm. On the pole that held the IV was a little box with all sorts of buttons and blinking lights and gauges of a sort. Rosalita of course, had no idea what it all meant or was for, but the box had a little display screen that cast a soft blue-green glow inside the closet, and gave her the only light she had. On the bottom right corner of the box was the time. ‪05:46‬. Next to the time was a battery symbol, it was red and flashing...just like the same kind of symbol on the box on Rosalita's IV had been as well before it died about thirty minutes ago and went dark.

This one is gonna die too and soon I'll be in the dark, she thought to herself in her native Spanish, looking down at her newborn baby which she cradled in her arms. The Sheriff had left her, the baby, and his unconscious daughter more than an hour and a half ago. He said he was going to see “just what the hell was going on”. A part of her hoped he'd gone ahead and found it out—or was going to find it out soon— so she could get out of this god-forsaken closet. Another part of her hoped he didn't.

She knew what was going on.

When they had heard the gunshot, she had known right away it had come from Ole' Bitch.

The only thing Sparky Warner may have loved more than his shotgun was draining the cans of Coors Light he used to shoot with it...certainly not Rosalita. He abused his wife almost as much as he had abused the cans. At least when he was done with Rosalita he just rolled ahead on over and went to sleep, but with the cans, he liked to line them up on a log in the back yard and either take pot-shots at them with his .22 or sometimes, if he was in the real mood for some fun, he'd obliterate them with 'Ole Bitch'.

“I named it after your mama,” he had told her once as he pulled it from the back of his work van.

Rosalita knew who the shotgun blast was for too.

Whitey Grey had done a bang-up job on the new roof of the Warner home last year. Sparky had been real appreciative too, and knowing Whitey to be a stand-up guy, and having felt sorry for him because he had been on the outs with his high-school sweetheart, he had been all too willing to give Whitey some odd jobs here and there around the Warner castle in exchange for some cash from time to time.

“Chelsea Keane has always been a fucking bitch, ever since high school” Sparky had belched, crushing an empty beer can in his hand and tossing it off the front porch. “I'm surprised you stayed with her this long.”

Whitey had looked into the hole of the can of his own beer. “I've always loved her man. Ever since we were in six grade. I've always felt she was the one for me.” He had taken a swig. “You know, like my soul mate.”

Sparky had fished a cigarette out of his mouth and laughed, punching his friend in the arm. “You gotta be kidding me with that pussy shit.” He had said, putting a flame to the end of his smoke. “Naw man...you stay here with me. Make that bitch feel what it's like to miss you.”

“You think so?” Whitey had asked.

“Fuck yeah. Besides, I got tons of shit around here you can do in exchange for crashing on the couch.” Sparky had replied, the cigarette bouncing in his mouth.

“Your old lady won't mind?” Sparky had asked.

“Who do you think wears the pants around here motherfucker?” Sparky had exhaled a plume of smoke. “You see,” he had said, pointing the cigarette at his friend. “That's your problem. You always let that bitch run you over. You think I ever let my woman boss me around?”

Whitey changed the subject, “What do you want done around here?” He had asked.

“You're a handy motherfucker...lots of shit.” Sparky had smiled. “These gutters haven't been cleaned a month of Sundays. I've been meaning to pressure wash this driveway. I got siding on the side that's fucked up and could use replacing...and shit...that well in the back has been compromised by about three autumn's worth of leaves.”

Whitey had shrugged and taken another swig of beer. “That sounds cool.”

“Yeah!” Sparky had taken another drag, “And you know...odd job shit. Like bring the salt pellets in from time to time. That shit's heavy and God knows my old lady can't do it.”

They had laughed together at this. Rosalita had watched and listened to this conversation out of the window while she was doing the dishes. She remembered it well because moments after her husband had berated her to his best friend, she had sliced her finger on a steak knife under the soapy water. It had left a small car on the inside of her left index finger.

Rosalita felt that place in the darkness now, thinking.

Yes, Whitey had done a real good job around the house.

After all, Sparky was real busy. His little electric company hadn't taken off the ground as well as he had liked, and he found himself a corporation of one, working seven days a week, twelve hour days.

Anyone with half a brain would have known how this was gonna play out.

One of Sparky's job's on a ‪Tuesday morning‬ had re-scheduled. Rosalita had never found out why. Sparky had come home ‪at ten o'clock‬ in the morning to find Whitey Grey in his underwear making pancakes for Rosalita, who was also in her underwear...well...at least from the waist down. If it wasn't for a well-timed right hook by Whitey and an even better timed smack with the pancake skillet by Rosalita...Whitey and Rosalita would have probably gotten a taste of “Ole Bitch” right then.

Rosalita and Whitey had gotten a room at the Extended Day down in Russellville for awhile, after six months they snuck back into Haddonfield, renting a little apartment two blocks from the Bypass near Orange Grove. By then, Rosalita was sporting a little belly that everyone in town knew wasn't Sparky's doing, and word of mouth travels fast in a little Midwestern town.

So far though Sparky hadn't caused any trouble. Hadn't even called.

That didn't stop Rosalita from knowing that the shotgun blast had come from “Ole Bitch”. She knew it as well as she knew that the sun was gonna come up over Little Egypt ‪tomorrow morning‬ from the east and set over the corn fields and hills to the west ‪tomorrow evening‬. She knew it deep down in the marrow of her bones and the bottom of her soul and had now fought for the last hour and a half to shake the image of Whitey Grey, the father of her newborn baby, laying dead somewhere in the hospital with his brains splattered all around.

And Sparky was now coming for her.

Her and her baby.

Can't think about that now, Rosalita thought, looking down at her newborn baby boy. The Sheriff said he'd figure out what was going on, and he'll figure it out.

Sheriff Brackett had been the top deputy dog in the town as long as Rosalita could remember. If pressed she would say that she had always trusted him, and she would just plain have to trust him now.

The display screen on the Sheriff's daughter went dark. Rosalita couldn't see her hand in front of her face...let alone her baby.

Oh please God. She thought. Let somebody find me in here.

And then she caught herself.

Anybody but Sparky.

NEXT>>

#halloween #halloween franchise #michael myers #horror #horror writing #haddonfield #horror film #fan fiction #fan writing #spooky

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siderealxmelody · 3 years ago

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He stilled beaming as he surged forward to kiss her. He pressed her harder against the wall. He whined pressing his leg between her legs. He wanted to take her, wanted to hear her moan his name over and over.

He pressed kisses along her jaw, resting his forehead against hers. He tried to catch his breath, think against the lust coursing through him. He could throw Rhysand out and risk their father finding out wnd separating him. He could run with her go the small cabin no one but the Quartet know of and take her.

But is that what she deserved? For this to be something hidden and done in secrecy? Did he? In every wish he had for them they walked the streets of Hewn and Velaris proudly. He danced with her and flaunted her like the damn jewel she was. Could he still if he tarnished her name like this? Mate or not was he any better than the males of Hewn like this?

He whined softly, running his hands over her sides. Perhaps her yes had finally freed something in him. Her yes meant that this wasn't some one off moment - her yes meant she finally saw him didn't she?

"I won't take you like a possession Unah. You deserved to be courted, to be shown off like the damn treasure you are."

He nuzzled her nose, smiling at her sadly.

"I - I'm sorry. I'm so sorry you deserve so much more than this. You - gods Unah I love you - I've loved you for years. Do you mean that? Do you mean this yes for the future because I will wait but don't give me false hope darling."

He kissed her hands, his touches a little more gentle. He hadn't felt a bond snap which was all well and good. He doubted he could have salvaged anything after that.

"I don't want you to go back to him but if you stay with me - if —"

He swallowed hard, he didn't want to send her back to Hewn to her Harpy of a mother. But where could they go that had anyone awake? Where could they could go that they wouldn't draw attention?

As it was he needed to find a getle way to tell Rhysand. Fuck - Rhysand how he forgotten was asleep not even a foot away?

"I don't want to let you go but I want to do this right. I - I can make coffee or you prefer tea right? We can have some tea and talk? I - I'm sure you have questions. I - you want this, me right?"

He hated the insecurity and doubt in his voice. He hated that she could say no and he'd probably never recover. Because before it had been a hypothetical. But he knew what she tasted like, what she sounded like in pleasure. It would be the worst form of torture.

an-endless-saga:

He hummed, her scent was going to kill him. This close he could scent her want. His hands moved to her waist tightening at how sheer this material was.

He nipped at her neck, he’d regret this tomorrow. He’d beg forgiveness for this tomorrow.

“Mine.”

He couldn’t keep the possesive growl from his voice. He swallowed trying not to simply take her like some animal.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me Unah?”

He pulled away looking down at her, a thumb soothing the skin of her neck. He took his time looking at her, memorizing every detail he could. He half wondered if this was a dream. One he’d wake from hard and bitter that she wasn’t his.

He dragged his eyes from the mark on her neck to her eyes and couldn’t help but give her a mischievous smile.

“I’m going to need you say your answer outloud darling or we can’t go any further.”

Never mind that there wasn’t a we, never-mind this went against every rule he’d set for himself. He looked her over again, whining softly.

“If you were mine I would have taken you already - I would have marked you so everyone knew exactly who you belonged to.”

Well since he was already going to pay horribly for this he might as well do what he wanted. He kissed her fingers, holding eye contact as he knelt before her. He stared up at her, his mouth dry. He could stare at her like this and be content.

“You’re wasted in Hewn you know that right? I mean I dream of you Unah. I’ve dreamed of you for years. Rhysand will never give you what you want but I could offer you a ring and a court if you’d just look at me.”

Something in him soured and he finally stood running a hand over his face. He moved pinning her against the wall. His fingers skimmed over her stomach, under her breasts. He looked to her before he leaned down to kiss along her collarbone.

“I would have mated you by now if you’d said yes to me Unah. I would have given you everything you ever wanted. I —”

He pulled back to look at her, something surging through him. Was this need? Lust? The last shred of his decency dissapearing.

“Say yes Unah. Say yes.”

He wasn’t even sure if he was asking for a kiss or more. He wasn’t sure if he was even entitled for more. She was young - he knew the risks. He’d heard enough horror stories of Mating young. But how did his father expect him to keep a level head when she looked like this? When she stared at him like - when she smelled like this?

His. When that word came from him it sent a thrill through her, her body warmed to his touch. Her chin had risen to give him access to her neck, wanting to feel more of him, feel him against her skin. Her mind felt muddled as she tried to make sense of what was going on, though it was all starting to dawn on her. Even though her muddled thoughts she was making connections, though those thoughts were soon lost as she felt his thumb upon the skin of her neck.

Her eyes lingered upon his when he pulled away, her chest was heaving under the sheer material of her night slip. That mischievous smile seemed to completely undo her; her entire resolve crumbled at that moment. He needed to hear it, he needed to hear her say it. “I want you to kiss me, Oren.” The words slipped from her lips, words that were so much easier than she had thought they would be.

Her heart stumbled as he spoke. He would have taken her, the thoughts that filled her mind make her skin flush, yet she couldn’t help but want those ideas to come true. She wanted him to take her, she wanted him to mark her as he claimed. If this was what he wanted, it was what she wanted as well, she wanted him.

Unah could only stand there in anticipation as he knelt before her, her eyes remained fixed on his. “You dreamed of me?” She echoed. Those dreams she had cherished, the idea that he had been in them. What of the ones when she had…He was right, Rhysand would give her nothing but a broken heart. She had seen it coming for a long time. Could he give her everything she wanted?

A grunt came from her when he pinned her to the wall, her back arched towards him as she moaned softly from the way his fingers skimmed her skin. Her hands moved, her fingers running up his back as her fingers dug into his hair. She wanted him, she needed him. Her eyes met with his when he pulled back.

“Yes.”

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charactersadvocatechimata · 8 years ago

Text

Law of Life: Redheads are Absolute 14

Tony has never had what other people might call a healthy relationship with sleep. He was never sure if sleep itself and no interest in Tony as a person or if the problem lay with Tony himself. Whatever is was, didn’t change the nature of the relationship or at least Tony perceived it. A fight is violent no matter to motivation, and that was what sleep was for Tony. A battle. Falling asleep was always a struggle. Waking up was always a violent strike.

He never consider it to be taken quite so literally tho.

“What the fuck!” Everything hurts. Everything hurts. Hurts. Hurts. Hurts. Where is he? What happened? What? What? Where? A cave? Wire? Why are there wires in his chest? Where? Jarvis. Rhodey. Winter it hurts. His chest. What happened to his chest? What the fuck is in his chest? The world keeps sipping and walls, they are encroaching. It’s all too fast. Somebody make it stop. Make everything stop.

“Tony, don’t move.”

Tony tried to get up to move. But he couldn’t. There is a weight on his shoulders and on his chest. Nothing smells right. The pressure. He can’t move. Pressing down. He can’t breathe. Jarvis, he can’t breathe. He tries to throw off the weight. But he can’t, it’s another wall. The wall. Encroaching walls and he can’t draw breath.

“Captain let him go.”

“But Sam.”

“No. No buts. And you Mister Stark, please do not waste my hard work. Relax.”

“Tony. Not Stark.”

“I’m Sam Wilson. Call me Sam, Tony.”

Tony takes a shaky breath trying to get his brain working. The sluggish motions of thoughts just wouldn’t do. Not in this situation. But at least now he remembers the attack. And the abduction. He traces a finger along the wires to a car battery. A. Car. Battery. “Despite my best efforts I do not run on batteries.”

Sam smiles wide, his beautiful teeth on show. “Nah, man. It’s for the magnet that’s keeping the shrapnel from reaching your heart and killing you.”

“Sam! Couldn’t you have put that more delicately?”

“You always gotta be straight with engineers.”

“He is an Omega.”

“Yeah, but he is an engineer first.”

“And he is right here. Nor is he happy about the car battery. I need something better. I need an arc reactor.”

Steve who is strangely sitting on the floor with his back against the wall projects his most stubborn posture and huffs very deliberately. “No. We need to escape.”

“Yeah? How do you plan on achieving that with both legs broken.”

“I’ll be fine in a week or two.”

Sam fully expressed ‘bullshit’ with a cock of his head. And well, Tony couldn’t blame the guy. It was hard to imagine that the spastic Alpha could be Captain America.

Tony ran another line around the circle of his. . . change. A magnet might prove an issue with the chip, and he wasn’t sure how far along JARVIS was learning to create or squish an algorithm to make it work. He might have to make his own way out, but he'd give his baby time. Enough time to get rid of this. . . battery for something more appropriate of Tony Stark.

“It’ll be fine Sam. JARVIS will locate us if I take too long. Probably.”

Steve perks up like one of those meerkats trying to find what’s up. It be cute if Tony didn’t think there was a lecture coming. “Why would Jarvis know where you are?”

“I might have, maybe just a little bit, made myself bait. It happened. Let’s move on.”

“You made yourself bait.” There is this look like Steve can’t comprehend Tony at the moment. Which is just rude.

“So what?! I get abducted all the time.”

“Tony.”

“What it’s fine.”

“God. Bucky is going to kill me.”

“What why?”

“Because he definitely is not going to blame you for this mess. Which means I get the short end of the stick.”

“Is this an Omega thing?”

“What? No! It’s a Bucky thing.”

“How this a Bucky thing?”

“You wouldn’t understand?”

“I wouldn’t- I wouldn’t understand. Do you realize who the genius is here?”

“Guys. No fighting. Bigger problems.” Sam gestures at the guys with guns.

And yes. There are men. With guns trying to look very threatening. It’s rather distracting.

@@@

Clint is nesting up in the space behind the kitchen cabinets. A space only a few people knew existed because Mom had built it for them. For Nat, Dad, and himself. To hide and to keep in tuned with their inner ninja as Mom put it. He was also working on building secret tunnels under the mansion since Nat and Dad preferred the ground. Not today. His sister was curled near him, every couple of beats widening her eyes carefully, but Clint just let the tears run their course. It seemed easier that way.

“Jarvis. Anything new?”

“No, Sir.”

It’s been more than a week, and Howard hasn’t said anything. Neither has Jarvis, but that can easily be laid at Howard’s feet too.

“What about the children?”

“They have been good, Sir. Early to rise, early to bed, and completing all of their homework.”

“Good. Good. Anything about Anthony?”

“Their Mother has all but vanished, their Father slithered back into the shadows, and the one person who should comfort them is dithering around the situation.”

“So they haven’t asked anything?”

“No. Sir. Clint has made several inquiries. But I have been unable to lift his spirits since I too am in the dark about the Young Master.”

“What? Are you implying I’m keeping some secret? Because I don’t know anything. Anthony could have just run off on us for all I know.”

“Liar!”

Howard swivels towards Clint’s hiding spot grabbing at his chest with wide eyes. “Didn’t I say no assassin antics? I did. Didn’t I Jarvis?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“It’s not Assassin antics, it’s spy antics. And Mom gave permission.”

“What are you doing up there?” Howard jabs his finger right at Clint’s, and Clint heard Nat snort behind him. It was hard to take the man seriously when he had to bend his neck all the way back to get a look at the lot of them.

“Spying. We want to know what happened to Mom. And don’t say ‘runoff’ because he would never do that to us. Never.”

“Fine. Tony has been kidnapped for an unknown motive, and not even Obidah has heard anything. Nor Pegs. Which raises the question of a secret spy organization’s worth if they can’t even find my fucking son.”

“I may have a rough location of Sir.”

“Gads! Jarvis, I’m going insane, I’m hearing an omniscient voice.”

Jarvis stifles a heavy sigh and a dramatic eye roll. “That is Jay Junior, Sir.”

“Right. Well, then. Lead the way my British hallucination.”

@@@

Today might have started a little high for Tony. Steve’s leg heals through, as he said, pure Brooklyn stubbornness which Tony was sure was bullshit. Sam had managed to snag and squirrel away a gun or two. Tony managed to, brilliantly he might add, completed a miniaturized arc reactor and a bomb that sent the cave to Timbuktu. He was in a good mood. Keep that in mind.

Next, of course, was to carry out the plan.

Steve managed to quickly take out the guards. Sam easily guide the group through the maze. From a map, he created inside his head. Inside his head based on the guard's movements. Tony had already decided to keep him before the bomb went off. Oh! The explosion went off beautifully. Sam spotted the searching military helicopters. Tony knew Rhodey would find him. Anywhere.

He saw Rhodey. And. . . him. And he was in a good mood. Okay. A good mood. So without thinking, he just leaped into his arms. Just one giant motion. The idiot caught him. Easily, of course. But it doesn’t mean anything. Okay. Not. A. Thing.

“You should just let me down now, Winter.”

Winter just snuggles his head against Tony’s neck, ignoring him, and starts some purr-growl noise nonsense. While Steve, Sam, Rhodey, Howard and the pups watched. Yeah. Just watching while Tony dies slowly from embarrassment. Not that he is that. Embarrassed. It’s just he meant to leap into his loving Rhodey’s arms. Yeah.

“They’re all watching, you know.”

“Don’t care.”

Well, Tony doesn’t care either. His flushed face is from the heat. That’s a thing. Bruce said so. Okay. Winter has started nipping at his neck. Tony can even feel his ears burning red.

“I didn’t know the infamous Tony Stark had a mate.” Sam is smirking next to Rhodey, who is also smirking. The traitors. Tony is going to leave them both out here to die.

“Oh, they're not mates. Tony is still available.” Steve pipes up. When he makes eye contact with Tony, he smiles shyly, but it slowly morphs into a puppy-dog like grin. As if the man forgot Tony’s Aunty Pegs is Peggy Carter. And she already warned Tony a long time ago never to fall for his innocent act. Of course, that now raises the question what the man is after.

It must be something good because Winter’s purrs have picked up into full growls now. And both Corncob and Mimmo are staring rather intently. Tony runs a hand through Winter's hair. He looks tired but still smiles up at Tony and leaves a small kiss on his wrist. “Pups. No killing.”

The two of them nod, which is something, but their eyes don’t bother leaving Steve’s face. But they’re good pups, so Tony is pretty sure they're not going to do anything too bad. Even as they stalk towards Steve and drag him off. Howard sniggers. “I warned the man. But he just didn't listen.”

“Warned him about what?”

“Nothing much.” Howard flaps his hand about and grins. Winter must be in on it too because he went back to cuddling. “By the way, Anthony, when are you going to declare Barnes, your mate? He kept his word and hasn't run off on you.”

“And you seem happy up there.”

“I happen to like the weather up here honey buns.”

Winter smirks with all his Alpha arrogance. Tony lets him. Cause he is a nice guy like that. “Mine. Mate.”

“Sure. I can live with that.”

Tony thought that Winter’s responding smile was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. But that was probably the heatstroke talking.

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#LL:RA #tony stark #Steve Rogers #sam wilson #natasha romanoff #clint barton #Howard Stark #james rhodes #Winter Solider #Bucky Barnes #tony/bucky #winteriron

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