#i bring up how what L’s ACTUALLY doing here is things that would make light paranoid /if/ he was kira. it would just be annoying if not

[ablizmal]

the way death note logic rots your brain that the most realistic rebuttals don’t even cross your mind when talking about the plot with an outsider(positive)

[fandoms-x-reader]

Sensitive! MC

Requested By: @fairwish

Summary: The brothers' reaction to an MC who is sensitive and gets upset about not having anyone who cares about them in the Devildom. The Demon Brothers x Reader Word Count: 3,064

This doesn't have Belphie because of the lesson it's based on! Sorry <3

Based on Lesson 6-15

You had been torn away from your life and taken to an unfamiliar place full of creatures that humans portrayed as scary and evil.

You didn’t know anyone in the Devildom. You didn’t have anyone who cared about you or that you could talk to about the trouble you were experiencing.

You were all alone, terrified, trying to figure out how exactly you ended up here.

And to top it all off, none of your new acquaintances seemed to care.

They all carried on without a worry in the world - as if it was the most normal thing in the world for a human to be in Devildom.

They didn’t do anything to try and soothe your pain of missing home or calm your fears of being surrounded by demons.

In fact, some one of them - Mammon - spurred them on by threatening to eat you if you didn’t listen to them or do as they asked.

You did your best to put on a brave face, to pretend as though their words and actions didn’t affect you as much as they did.

But it was hard to keep your composure when it was clear that not a single one of them cared about you.

-

You made your way to the Assembly Hall, your heartbeat still pounding in your chest.

You had just left the music room where you had a very intense one-on-one conversation with Lucifer after your near-death experience where you tried to save Beel and Luke.

“Hey, how about that Y/N, you’re alive!” Mammon stated as you entered the large room, a smile on his face that you weren’t sure was one-hundred percent genuine.

“Let’s see…yep, you’ve still got both arms and both legs. Your eyes are still in their sockets, and your ears are still attached. Guess you’re okay,” Beel added.

“I want to know what Lucifer did. You’ve got to give me the deets L-8-R, yo!” Levi said, a bit too excitedly. 

“Whaaat, you’re still alive? Well, that’s boring,¨ Asmo replied, a small frown on his face, as if he was disappointed

You want to scoff at their reponses. How could they be so nonchalant with everything that just happened. How could they not care at all that you almost died trying to protect their brother.

“Of course. Unless he went crazy again like last night, Lucifer wouldn’t hurt Y/N,” Satan stated, the mention of your name bringing you out of your thoughts.

“And do you know why that is, Y/N?” Satan asked you, a small smirk resting on his lips as he asked the question.

You wished it was because Lucifer liked you. Or at the very least because you were a human. But you the knew the answer.

“Because I’m an exchange student,” you replied, softly, casting your gaze away from the demons standing in front of you.

That’s all you were to them - a business transaction. A pawn that was being used to ensure Lord Diavolo’s vision came to light.

“Exactly. I see you have a good grasp of what’s going on here,” Satan replied, and you felt tears begin to sting your eyes.

“If anything were to happen to one of our exchange students, it would make Lord Diavolo look bad,” Satan continued to explain and you took a deep breath in an attempt to steady your emotions.

“Lucifer would never do anything to harm Lord Diavolo’s reputation,” Satan added and you felt the ties that had been previously holding you back snap.

“You know, I actually forgot about that. For a moment, I was starting to think that Lucifer might actually care about me. Thanks for me reminding, Satan,” you replied sharply, your angry eyes locking with his surprised ones before you left the Assembly Hall.

Satan hadn’t expect such sarcasm to come out of you - such wrath. None of them did. 

You had passed Lucifer and Lord Diavolo on your way out of the Assembly Hall and they could feel your irritation radiating off of you.

They didn't follow after you though, instead turning their attention to the five other demons inside the Assmebly Hall, silently demanding an explanation as to why you were so upset.

Lucifer thought that he had patched things over with you after your conversation in the music room.

He wasn’t the best at apologizing but he was sure that he had gotten his point across about how regretful he was over his actions.

He thought that you had accepted his apology and that things were okay, but after seeing you storm out of the Assembly Hall, we was no longer sure that was true.

After his brothers told Lucifer what happened before his arrival, he thought it would be best if he went and checked on you himself.

He found you in the courtyard, remnants of the tears you had previously shed streaking down your cheeks.

Lucifer wasn’t sure how to start the conversation. Mostly, because he wasn’t exactly sure why you were so upset.

It took a little bit of time, but when you finally opened up and told Lucifer about your troubles, he was surprised. 

He was surprisingly sympathetic to what you were going through, but he didn’t exactly let that side of himself show.

He had already apologized to you for his part in causing you discomfort in the Devildom and he was the Avatar of Pride, after all, so getting a second apology was a tall order, and an unlikely one.

But, you did notice Lucifer doing small things around RAD and the House of Lamentation.

It could be simple things that provided more comfort for your life in the Devildom or moments of appreciation that Lucifer treated as trivial but ended up meaning more to you than you thought it would.

After that conversation with Lucifer, one thing was clear - he and his brothers weren’t treating you right and they needed to make amends for that and correct their course of action.

Mammon could arguably be the most sensitive among his brothers when it came to certain things.

He had his fair share of moments where he felt like he didn’t matter to his brothers and times where he felt like there wasn’t a single person in the Devildom that cared about him.

So, he knew just how devastating those thoughts could be.

When you first arrived to the Devildom, Mammon’s concern was making sure that he made himself out to be intimidating and indifferent towards you so that he could have the power in the friendship.

He wanted to dictate when and where the two of you would go and how things were done. After all, if he was going to be your babysitter, he wanted full control of the situation.

But that didn’t really work out for him, and it didn’t take long for him to not only have to bend his knee to your will - but he wanted to.

The truth was he had fun with you and you always found a way to make him smile. Though, he refused to say anything like that. Hell, he refused to even think anything like that when he was around others.

But, when you had your outburst in the Assmebly Hall, Mammon had seen the pained look on your face. The same pained look that he had seen on himself in the mirror.

He followed after you almost immediately, not letting you get too far before he caught up and pulled you into an empty classroom.

He stood in front of you, silence filling the air as you did your best but failed to hold back your tears.

Mammon dared himself to reach up and use his thumb to brush away the tears that were rolling down your cheek.

“I’m sorry, it’s just hard to keep it together when no one around you cares about you,” you stated, barely above a whisper as you kept your gaze on the ground.

Mammon felt his heart shatter as you spoke those words. He knew that he was at fault just as much as his brothers.

He wanted to tell you that he cared about you, but every time he opened his mouth to speak those words, they got lost.

So, instead he pulled you into his arms, hoping that his gesture would be enough to prove you wrong.

Hoping that you would see that even though he had a tendency to act aloof, on the inside he was screaming for you to show him attention and to care about him the same way he cared about you.

Levi isn’t the type of person who knows how to handle this kind of situation.

He wasn’t even planning on going in to school today. He was perfectly content with doing his studies from the comfort of his bedroom.

But, ever since he made a pact with you, he had to admit he felt some sort of desire - a very SECRET desire - to spend more time with you.

The idea that his brothers would be hanging out with you at school while he was sitting at the House of Lamentation, missing out, was enough to spark the sin that he tried so hard to control.

And now after seeing everything that had just happened, he was heavily regretting his decision to leave his room.

Because now he was stuck between a rock and a hard place.

On one hand, he wanted to disappear back to his otaku haven and pretend like he never saw your outburst

On the other hand…he couldn’t. He felt like he had to do something to help, and the feeling only grew when he didn’t see any of his other brothers moving to go talk to you.

His social anxiety was skyrocketing, but he couldn’t leave a fellow TSL fan in their time of need. That was the reason the told himself when questioning why he was doing this.

When he finally did find you, he once again froze in place as he tried to figure out his next move. He didn’t expect to find you crying.

He found some nearby tissues and slowly approached you with them, relaxing slightly when you gently took them from him and began wiping away your tears.

Levi managed to ask you why you were crying and when you explained it to him, everything made sense as to why you snapped at them.

Levi was almost always self-depracating. Sometimes it was easier to tell yourself that no one loved you then get your hopes up and get hurt. 

But he didn’t want you to go down that rabbit hole - because it wasn’t true.

He wasn’t sure how he was going to do it, but he was going to find a way to show you how much you meant to him and his brothers.

He was going to prove how just in your small time there, you had already changed at least three of them for the better. And it wouldn't be long until the others followed suit.

Levi might not have the perfect words to say or the perfect way to cheer you up, but what he did have was a true friend.

And you may have to wait a while until he’s comfortable enough for him to tell you that. But, in the meantime, he’ll do what he could to show you that at least one person cared about you.

Satan had been the one you snapped at, so he was by far the most surprised.

For one, he wasn’t exactly sure what about his statements made you so angry.

He wasn’t trying to be rude or offensive, he was simply stating the facts about Lucifer.

For two, he didn’t think you had such rage inside. 

In a somewhat twisted sense, he dared to admit seeing you portray his sin gave him a small sense of gratification.

But, that thought was at the back of his mind. At the front, was trying to talk to you about what happened.

He took some time to properly analyze the situation. He tried to come up with every possible reason that could have caused you to lash out.

He wanted to have a response to any situation so that when he did talk to you, he wasn’t floundering for words.

He found you in the library at the House of Lamentation a little while later and he was grateful you were in a quiet and private place that he just so happened to be comfortable in.

You looked up from your book for a moment to see who had entered before returning to your fictional world. 

Satan came to sit down next to you and paused for a moment before saying, “I’m sorry for what I said earlier. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

It was a much more sincere apology than you would expect from the Avatar of Wrath and it was enough to pull your attention away from your book.

“It’s not what you said. It’s what it reminded me of,” you replied with a small sigh.

“What did it remind you of?” Satan questioned, his eyes holding no malice but a hint of curiosity

“That I’m alone down here. That I don’t have anyone to turn to or talk to. That I don’t have anyone who cares,” you replied softly, your eyes looking away from Satan’s intense ones.

Satan had thought about this being one of the reasons, but he was stuck in a mental debate.

He was so used to being apathetic but something about the way you opened up to him melted his heart and he suddenly felt an innate desire to protect you.

“The library is a great place to go if you’re feeling lonely,” Satan stated.

It was always his comfort place, so he saw no reason why it couldn’t be yours.

Not to mention the fact, that he was typically in the library and maybe a small part of him was hoping that he could also be something you sought out when you were feeling lonely.

Asmo didn’t really understand the weight that his words carried until you were angrily walking out of the Assembly Hall.

As soon as you disappeared from sight he began questioning himself. Did he really say it was boring that you weren’t dead?

He had meant it as a joke when he first said it. It was a joke that most demons would find funny and he was so good at trying to be a people pleaser.

He was used to making those kinds of jokes because it would boost the way he looked in front of other demons and we all know how important his reputation was to him.

But your outburst made him realize how it must have sounded to you - a human who had been torn from their world and thrown into one that was vastly different. 

And a twinge of guilt poked at his heart, gradually growing in intensity until he felt like he could no longer stave off the need to apologize.

He found you in your bedroom and was thankful that the two of you would have a moment to be alone.

His apology would be so much more genuine if it was in privacy where he could drop the mask he constantly wore in public.

When you opened the door Asmo suppressed a gasp as he saw tears rolling down your cheek and the guilt only continued to eat away at him.

He had always thought that crying was such an ugly thing. But when you did it, it had a certain elegance.

You had a way of making anything you did beautiful. It was a trait that Asmo was actually quite envious of.

“I didn’t mean what I said,” Asmo said, the words spilling from his lips before he had even fully registered what he said. 

You were confused by his sudden confession and as you tried to find the right words to reply with, he continued.

“I'm glad you're okay. And I'm sorry I made you cry," he added.

Asmo grabbed a nearby tissue and gently brought it to your cheek, dabbing away your tears.

You knew that what he said was probably a joke, but it didn't make it hurt any less.

You opened up to Asmo and explained why it hurt so much to hear everyone say those things and it was like a lightbulb went off in Asmo's head.

He completely understood where you were coming from and he hated that none of them even thought about how hard it would be for a human to adjust to life in the Devildom.

In an attempt to show you he cared about you, Asmo will turn up his charm 100% on you.

More compliments, more hugs, really anything he could do.

And if that wasn't enough he would take you out with him and introduce you to some of his friends.

Being lonely was one of the worst feelings and Asmo never wanted you to feel that way.

Beel felt the most guilty after seeing you so upset.

He was the one you were protecting when Lucifer tried to attack you.

You had stepped in front of him and shielded him.

He had been so thankful that Diavolo managed to reach Lucifer in time and stop him from hurting you.

And he made sure to tell you as much when you were resting up in his bedroom after the attack.

Yet, when that conversation was happening in the Assembly Hall, he said and did nothing to help you.

He could see you growing more and more upset as his brothers talked, but he continued to just stand by and listen.

As soon as you left the Assembly Hall in tears though, Beel knew he had messed up.

He immediately followed after you, genuinely worried about you.

When he finally caught up to you, Beel immediately wrapped you into his arms, pulling you closely into him.

Panic was filling every inch of his body as he tried to come up with the right words.

In the end, he told you, “My brothers were just kidding.”

You let out a small chuckle, gently pulling away from Beel and wiping the tears from your eyes.

“I know that what they were saying wasn’t completely true, but Satan was right. I don’t have anyone down here that cares about me,” you replied, and Beel’s lip turned into a frown.

He looked so sad and lost at your words that you almost felt like you needed to comfort him.

“When I asked you why you protected me and Luke, you told me it was because we were your friends and we were important to you,” Beel began, and your eyes locked with his indigo ones. 

“You’re my friend too, and you’re important to me,” Beel added with a small smile that portrayed how sincere he was being you.

His expression was enough to bring a small smile to your face and you allowed yourself to open up to Beel.

You knew that the whole experience brought the two of you closer, and you knew that Beel was someone who would always be there for you and someone you could always turn to.

[rinneroraito]

L x Reader: You ask if you could give him a hug. Almost 800 words, mundane fluff

~~~°~~~

It's the middle of the night in the headquarters. The rest of the Task Force had already retired to their rooms meanwhile you've taken it upon yourself to not leave your desk until your job was done. You weren't alone, though. L was also there doing pretty much the same thing as you. The last time you checked on him he was hunched over his screens. When you got up to take a short break, you find him on the glass windows overlooking the cityscape.

There was something lonely and haunting about his figure and where he stood, the darkness of the starless night sky and the empty office seemingly enveloping him in it's abyss. The title of "Greatest Detective in the World" isn't an ordinary feat and looking at him like this puts things into incredible perspective. He's just a person, too. Behind the screen and the garbled voice was just another man doing what he could.

You walk closer, standing alongside him staring at the cityscape below, the lights looking like stars that fell from the heavens.

"Have you ever been hugged, Detective?"

He turns to look at you and you meet his gaze. He's still wearing that usual stoic expression. Unreadable. Unsure of how to read him you're now wondering if maybe that wasn't a question that needed to be asked. Even if the reason was for a good cause, maybe it was too personal, especially for him.

"The last time I tried to 'hug' someone, I got kicked down a flight of stairs. Offering that gesture hasn't crossed my mind ever since so to answer your question, no. I have never been hugged. I also think my lifestyle has a lot to do about my lack of experience in that part, I'm sure you've thought about that."

Your eyebrows raise at his answer. Kicked down a flight of stairs? But more importantly, you were stuck thinking about the latter part of what he said. He was right, that possibility was also a thought that you've been speculating on. You turn to face him, pressing a hand to your cheek before you reach out, beckoning him to you.

"Would you like to experience it?"

You could see his eyes widen ever so slightly as he turns to face you, too. Maybe he was confused that it was something you'd offer to him, but it's just a hug, isn't it? And if he refuses then...

"I would, actually."

L shuffled closer to you and your hands slip through his limbs as you bring your arms around his waist, pulling him in.

He's cold.

L's entire frame is cold when you embrace him. He spends most of his time in front of his screens during the investigation, the frigid atmosphere provided by the air conditioning being his natural habitat. His clothes are cool, his jeans colder as you feel them brush against your thighs.

And then you feel his warmth. It's gradual, but the longer you hold him, the warmer he gets.

You can feel his lean muscles through his shirt as your arms circle his waist. He's skinny, making it easy to wrap your arms completely around his body, holding him firm and close.

You can hear his heartbeat as you press your ear to his chest. It's a gentle thrumming, as steady and as level as his demeanor. You can feel the rhythmic rise and fall that he makes as he breathes, and you wonder if he feels your rhythm, too.

L is hesitant, but he wraps his arms around you. Loosely at first, like he's testing the waters. And then you press him closer to you, reassuring him that he can do the same. He reciprocates. His hands press your back firmly, then he moves them to your shoulders, squeezing you to him. You can feel his breath as he rests his face on the crook of your neck.

You hold each other silently for a few moments that feel like an eternity. An eternity you wanted to prolong. Because in this little pocket of time, there was no Kira, there were no mysteries to be solved, no deaths to be brought justice to. In truth, time is not as forgiving as you wished it was. Yet you're here, L is here, and you both exist. Persisting through it all. You're holding him as he holds you. He's holding you as you hold him. And you're hoping to whatever higher being there is that at least, in this little pocket of time that you're hugging him, he feels some sort of solace in it.

"How does this feel, Detective?"

His monotonous voice comes out quiet, almost whispering, breathy against your ear.

"Comfortable. Thank you."

[bluecollarmcandtf]

M O O N L I G H T ™

Chapter III

It's late, and the last thing I expect to find at my nightly workout is my little bro, dressed up like a personal trainer. He looks ridiculous in that cheesy uniform, not to mention the light pouring out of his skull and the smile stamped into his face! I guess the little idiot signed up for Moonlight™: that was one helluva mistake!

"Good evening, sir," my brother speaks as if we hadn't grown up together, "Is there any way I can aid your fitness journey tonight?"

Hearing Ryan call me 'sir' brings a devious grin to my own face. I've bullied this kid for years, and now he's kissing my ass like well-trained puppy. Thanks to Moonlight™, my annoying little bro is just a mind controlled employee who doesn't realize his brother's here, let alone embarrassing him! I wish I could get my entire family implanted with these little Moonlight™ things. Messing with them would be hilarious!

"Oh yeah," I sneer, "And what's string bean gonna do for a guy like me?"

"Well, sir, as a personal trainer here at Planet Fitness, I'll gladly demonstrate how to use the machines, spot patrons with heavy-lifting, and return equipment when finished."

God, he sounds even more annoying than usual! "You really think a someone like you could spot me?" I scoff and bring my bicep to his face, flexing it inches away from his perpetually open eyes.

"Actually, sir, this body can lift 260 lbs on the bench press without injury. The load you have is well-enough below to ensure that I may be of service. Still sir, the weight you're lifting is a very respectable amount," Ryan's smile beamed at me, but mine fell.

"Whatever, I'll be fine," I retort, "Just stand over there and mop up my sweat when I'm done."

"Yes, sir."

My little brother takes a step back as I get ready to lift. As stupid as he looks, standing there waiting on me to finish, he also looks pretty fit. His company polo might be sweaty and gross, but it's tight against his improving physique. He's clearly been lifting a lot while he's been working here, but his gains should not count if Moonlight™ is the one actually working out that pathetic little body! The only way he could bulk up was by becoming a fucking puppet! Talk about sad!

"Fuck!" I grunt, tossing the barbell back as I finish. I did a few extra sets to prove a point and now my arms are on fire. "Towel!" I snap.

"Yes, sir," Ryan rushes over and wipes the sweat off my brow. I just laugh in his face.

"I think I got some sweat on my sneakers too," I jab, "You can wipe them off and then put twenty more pounds on the bar."

"Of course, sir."

My brother gets on his knees with the towel, giving my sneakers a cursory buff. I don't know what personal trainer has shoe-shining in his job description, but I've heard these Moonlight™ employees can be pretty pliant. Apparently, you can make them do quite a bit with the loopholes in their programming. Maybe I can get Ryan here to do something even more embarrassing than polishing his big bro's shoes!

The next week, I worked out every night.

Turns out, bullying my little bro was great motivation to go to the gym! When I saw him during the day, I never mentioned the fact that I knew; didn't want to scare him off. At night, I had every opportunity to take out my frustrations on him. If he pissed me off during the day, I could boss him around at the gym, ordering him to follow me around and wipe down every piece of equipment. I could call him whatever names I wanted and yell at him as loudly as I pleased; he had to just stand there with the best customer service smile and say "yes, sir."

Playing around with Ryan was fun, but it wasn't until I went out for a drink that I ran into my second brother. I guess he had the same idea to get hired with Moonlight™...

"Can I fix you a drink, sir?" my brother, the middle child, yells over the club's EDM.

"What the hell?" I shout, "Ryan's dumb enough to Moonlight™, but I didn't think you were!"

Sam just stares back with the same flashlight eyes and widely stretched lips. Of course his programming won't let him do anything outside of bartending! He's probably not even conscious in there! Ryan was always a bit of an impulsive twerp, so I wasn't surprised to see him Moonlighting™, but Sam is different. He'd said he'd never put his body to work at night. Something about the behavior of Moonlighters™ always rubbed him the wrong way...I guess he changed his mind.

"A round of beers," I tell him, warily gesturing to the back corner, "For me and our crew."

Sam's glowing stare looks over my shoulder and sees our friends, the guys we both hang out with, "Yes, sir. I'll have it right out for you."

I return to our pals, anxious for my brother to follow. Sam is only a year younger than myself, so we run around with the same crowd, yet he didn't recognize any of our buds. Now he's about to serve them like a fucking waiter. My catatonic brother is about to walk into the most humiliating situation of his life. I just get to sit back and watch!

"Sam?" one of them asks a moment later.

"Here are your beers, sir," my brother plucks the bottles off his tray and sets them out for each of his friends, completely oblivious to their stunned reactions, "Is there anything else I can get any of you?"

"Holy crap, dude!" another pal turns to me, "Since when did your brother start Moonlight? He looks like a total idiot!"

Sam doesn't seem to register the insult.

"I don't know man," I laugh, "Tonight, I guess."

"Fetch us some napkins," one guy quips with an amused flick of his hand.

"Right away, sir." Sam answers a little too promptly, and whisks away.

"Right away, sir, Ha!" the guy repeats with a mock salute, "We've gotta mess with him!"

Sam returns, obediently passing out napkins, but I'm finding it harder to meet his gaze while he's grinning so manically. This situation is starting to feel more awkward than hilarious. These guys will never let him live this down!

"Sam, get over here and give this paying customer a sloppy BJ!"

My brother stiffens, and for a second a jolt of fear runs down my spine, terrified that Moonlight™ will actually make him comply. Pranks are all good and fun, but I do not want to see my brother about to blow another dude!

"I apologize, sir," he finally resumes, "That is not part of my responsibilities as bartender."

Thank God.

"Then get something to clean this up," he laughs wildly, "You spilled my beer!" Our friend then pours half his drink on the crotch of his jeans, staring at Sam with the amused eyes of a drunk fool. This guy always gets weird after a few drinks. I don't know why we still bring him along. Normally, we just ignore him.

"Of course, sir," Sam answers attentively.

For the next ten minutes, I sit in silent horror as my brother returns with a rag, proceeding to get on his knees and wipe down another man's crotch with painful dedication. Of course, our friends are all howling with laughter at this point, taking video evidence that they can embarrass Sam with later.

It feels like a lifetime, but Sam finally stands up, "I hope I cleaned that up well enough for you, sir."

The guy feels at his wet jeans, saying, "I don't know if that's good enough, bitch."

"I'm sorry, sir, let me try ag-"

"No! It's my turn," someone else cuts in, pushing his way to the front, "You spilled some on my ass that needs cleaned up!"

The gang loses it, doubling over with laughter as Sam prepares to spend the next ten minutes wiping down another guy's ass, but I've had enough, "No! We're done here, thank you. Go close our tab," I bark.

"Yes, sir," Sam turns on his heel. His dumb obedience is more disturbing than entertaining at this point.

Our friends all give me a hard time for sending him away, but I'm not having it. Maybe I'm not drunk enough, but they're enjoying this a lot more than I am. At this point, I'm ready to call it a night and go home, so I say my goodbyes and head for the exit.

The walk home isn't a far one, but I pass a few notable places on the way: one being my dad's dark office building. Our old man has been working late nights there lately. In the dimly lit lobby, I recognize someone...

"Dad?" I gasp.

"Good evening, sir," my father says to me without any note of familiarity in his voice.

"Wait, you're moonlighting too?" it comes out as more of an accusation, but at this point I'm fed up with finding family members secretly working random mind-controlled night jobs.

"I am a security guard employed through the Moonlight™ corporation," his gravelly voice sounds foreign, delivering these programmed prompts, "If you'd like, sir, I can help you apply for a Moonlight™ position, and you can start making the most of your sleeping hours too!"

"Why the fuck did you think this was a good idea, dad?" I ask, knowing this stupid security guard persona isn't capable of answering.

"He didn't."

The voice of someone else in the room sends shivers down my spine. I whip around, and see a gangly, middle-aged man stepping forward.

"Jeff?"

"Hi, Jamie," my uncle says, sauntering up to his far taller brother and resting an arm on his shoulder. My dad's attentive posture doesn't waver. He just keeps on acting like the perfect sentry for the building and the perfect armrest for his brother.

"Do you mind telling me what's going on!?"

He sniffles and sighs like he was caught with his hand in the cookie jar, "Yes, I suppose this charade of mine was doomed to be found out sooner or later. I put your father in the Moonlight™ database. He was just wasting his sleeping hours at home in his bed, and he'd always refuse to let me sign him up, so I did it in secret. He makes a great guard. Right Tom?"

Uncle Jeff claps my dad on the back, prompting him to announce a proud, "Yes, sir!"

"See," my uncle turns back to me, "No harm done. Your old man gets paid to stand around in his sleep. Its harmless!"

"But he doesn't know!" I yell, seething at my uncle's sheer abuse of his place in the company, "This has to be illegal, and are you just pocketing Dad, Ryan, and Sam's salaries?"

He rolls his eyes, "I am right now, but the four of you don't even make that much."

"Did you just say the four of us?" I grunt.

"Oops," he holds a hand to his forehead and curses under his breath.

"AM I FUCKING MOONLIGHTING WHILE I SLEEP TOO?" I am screaming at this point, "You're fucked up!" I bark. Angrily, I stomp towards my uncle, but my father takes a firm step planting himself between me and the man. His steady palm is holding the baton at his belt, making me nervous. Is my dad about to beat me up for this creep?

"Excuse me, sir," my dad smiles at my uncle, "Would you like me to escort this man out of the building?"

"That won't be necessary," my uncle says, "I'll just trigger his Moonlight™ shift to start now. You can go back to standing in the corner"

"Yes, sir," my security guard father answers placidly, returning to his attentive stance.

"You wouldn't," I snarl.

"Oh, trust me, I will. As I understand it, overriding a subject's body while awake means you'll be fully conscious. I'll work on something to make you forget this whole incident later."

He presses a few buttons on an ipad, and suddenly my vision is engulfed in a purple haze. My back straightens, my muscles relax, and I feel my face contorts into a giant smile. Suddenly, my entire body seems to be gone from my grasp, and I'm constrained to a tiny space in my head while something else takes over.

"Enjoy your shift," my uncle snickers with a glare.

"Thank you, sir. I will," I feel my voice pushed out of my throat with an excited tone that isn't mine. Before I know it, my legs are carrying me away from my uncle, leaving him with my father, to march down the dark street...

"Here's your order, sir," my voice has the trademarked Moonlight™ eagerness in it as I reach out the window and hand over the meal.

"Fuck off, sleep-freak!" the teen in the driver's seat flips me off, making his immature friends cackle as they speed off. I can't do anything but smile and watch as they weave away. They have no idea I'm actually conscious in here.

After being forced to leave my uncle, I found myself striding into a fast food restaurant through its backdoor. I could instantly tell the place wasnt anywhere I'd eat at because the dumpster smelled like soggy fries and old meat. The kitchen was a fluorescent-lit pit, with a thick feeling of oil hanging in the air. I could barely take in the surroundings before I was changing out of my clothes by some lockers. I was horrified that Moonlight™ was making me fucking strip, but before long my hands were pulling on new clothes: a uniform. The polo felt like it'd been sitting at the bottom of the locker since the last shift, drying in sweat, and the pants were sticky with something unidentifiable. I was mortified to be pulling on a fucking hairnet and apron, but I had no choice.

"Blondie's here early," a smoker's voice purred from behind me. I had a bad feeling he'd been standing there for a while, watching.

"Hello boss," my voice answers, apparently recognizing the overweight, unshaved creep, "I'm ready to start my shift, sir! Where am I needed today?"

I watched as the man licked his stubbly lips, his beady eyes crawling all over me. Without any shame, his sweaty palm groped the growing bulge in his khakis. He was obviously happy to see me, and he probably thought I couldn't actually see him! I guess, every fucking night that my uncle's made me work in my sleep, I've been under the supervision of THIS pervert!?

"Get to the fryer," his scratchy throat moaned, "You know I want you to get nice and sweaty for later."

"Yes, sir. I'll be sure to work up a sweat for you," I answer, confused and disturbed by my response. The cheer in my voice did not match the overwhelming gloom I felt when the man slapped my ass. His hand lingered on my rear for too long, but I couldn't even frown.

Since then, I've been boiling fries and flipping burgers. Every so often I have to hand an order out the window, but my heart races every time I do. Three orders ago, the customer threw their soda back at my coworker, he's a fairly average guy in his thirties, and he was dowsed in Coca-Cola. It didn't keep Moonlight™'s programming from working: he just kept manning the grill, smiling, eyes glowing, and hair dripping with cherry flavored juice.

"Ouch!" at least, that's what I want to say. The oil sizzles and pops, and a few drops of hot grease splatter onto my arm, but I don’t flinch. The control won’t let me.

Suddenly I feel someone leaning in behind me. My spine shivers as my manager says, "It's closing time, Blondie. I'll send everyone home so you and I can clean up like usual." He whispers it in my ear, with his flabby arms wrapped around me like we're fucking lovers! I wish I could vomit!

"Sounds good, boss," I find myself saying.

One by one, the manager dismisses each of my moonlighting coworkers. I can't help but feel jealous as they strip out of their uniforms by the door. It isn't just that they get to leave; they also have the luxury of not knowing what's going on. They're all asleep. I'd give anything to at least be unaware of whatever this fucking pervert is about to do!

My body is preoccupied with whatever shit needs to be done for closing, wiping down the tables, taking out the trash, and more.

"Mop time," the manager suddenly announces, holding the raggedy thing out expectantly.

"Yes, sir," my voice answers, and I drop what I'm doing to accept the mop. The crotch of his pants is unzipped, but my bodies already turned away from him, turning all my attention to swab the tiles floor.

"You're doing it wrong again, Blondie," he purrs slowly, "I'm gonna have to help you like usual."

"Thank you, sir," my voice sounds grateful, but I am anything but. The pervert presses his rotund body against my back and holds my muscular arms with his own chubby ones. I can feel his penis poking into me below his gut, but my body accepts his touch like he's just a boss helping out an employee.

I guess this asshole found a loophole in Moonlight™'s fucking programming. He's going to touch me all he wants under the guise of demonstrating the right way to mop.

The creep spends the next ten minutes guiding my arms back and forth. "Fuck, you're bubble butt feels even better than usual, Blondie," he breathes in my ear. If I had control of my muscles, he wouldn't stand a chance, but right now, they're putty in my boss's arms. Meanwhile, his waist gets busy dry humping his chode into my rear end. "I'm so glad a jock like you was dumb enough to try Moonlight!" he grunts, his tongue dangerously close to my ear. I can only thank God that he can't take my pants off! After several painful minutes of him spitting more disgusting comments onto my cheek, his arms drop mine and plant themselves on my chest. His hands sloppily grope my pecs and pinch my nipples. I've never felt more pathetic. The man makes one final exclamation, "FUUUCK!" and I can tell he has finally gotten off.

"Thanks for the help, boss," I find myself saying.

With heavy breaths, he staggers back. The sudden open air on my back makes me realize just how hot and sweaty that slob was, and I can feel the slimy remnants of his balls slipping down my back and legs.

"Good job as always, Blondie," he breathes heavily with satisfaction.

"Thank you, sir," I answer. My voice hasn't lost its awful chipper quality, and my face is still stuck in a smile like I hadn't just been taken advantage of.

"Finish mopping up, and then you can lock up and clock out," he winks as if we shared some inside joke. I hate that all he sees is my smile.

"Yes, sir," I answer, but the creep has already waddled out of the building and slammed the door shut.

The sudden silence is unbearable. It makes the monotonous task of mopping the sticky floors all the more unpleasant. What's worse is that I can't pause to wash the manager's cum off my back. It soaks into my pants as I work, trapped in my own body. At least I know why these pants are so sticky. Honestly, I hope Uncle Jeff will wipe my memory...

[jjkfanatik]

Pablo Martin Páez Gavira x Reader

Summary: You find out that the guy you have been going out with has been lying about who he really is. How did you guys even meet, what were his reasons and thoughts and will your relationship remain?

Warnings: grammar issues, brief and light mention of drinking, other than that it’s pretty fluffy.

A/n: Hello Ladies! This is the first time i ever wrote something with the intention to post it. Feel free to give me some tips on how to better my writing, as long as you are kind. Keep in mind that english is not my first language. I hope you guys enjoy this. 🤗

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He knew he shouldn’t have lied about who he really is, but that one little lie came out of him before he could even think about it and now what is he supposed to do! Should he just run away and tell you the truth after those two weeks of such nice dates he is almost convinced that he wants to spend the rest of his life with you.

Run away and block you as soon as he gets home, yeah thats whats going on inside his head standing still and silently in front of you.

Does he even want to leave you? No, of course not. He wants to get to know you even better and continue all those dates and show you what you really mean to him.

can you really blame him tho? football players often don’t have the best reputation, pablo would never want you to think of him as arrogant or a player, or -even worse- an arrogant player. But you found out and now he needs to fix it bevor he never gets the chance to talk to you again.

“Um… your name is pablo right? Not actually Martin…”You asked, again seeing as he stood there not even blinking an eye, after you just asked him the first time, standing infront of your dorm room door.

keeping a soft voice and trying not to look too angry while asking the question that has been on your mind ever since he picked you up to take a walk and later on eat a sweet treat. Understandably you were angry, after finding out about his, real identity you could say, you have been nothing but thinking about why he would hide it.

Many emotions swirled through your body. Anger, disappointment and sadness. Feeling stupid for not having known him and needing your friend to look at you like you have grown to heads when you told her about this Martin guy and later showing her a picture of him “well thats pablo gavi” she told you. Thinking so much about it had you starting to form some self doubt, quickly shoving those thoughts away before they got to serious. Getting the idea that he may had gotten a wrong impression on you when you first meet him, causing him to lie but why would he then ask for your number and later on take you on really amazing dates where he had been nothing but a total sweetheart, nothing made sense anymore.

Bringing you flowers which seem like so much thought had been put into picking each and every single flower in there, holding every door open for you and making sure that you were nothing but comfortable and content during each and every second of the day. You guys had meet due to a really good Friend you had made during your first week here at university, Sira Martínez is her name. Having moved from a foreign country to peruse your dream, i had not been easy to make many -really any- friends since every student has their friendgroup and being pretty hostile when someone tried to come to close for their liking. When you had meet her in the community bathroom crying about her boyfriend beeing injured and not knowing how to help you could just not leave her there. Sitting there for more than two hours and talking about various things, both of you knew that a new bond was just formed.

After your first exam Sira had been trying to talk you to come clubbing with her, adding that you should “loosen up or else you wont find a boyfriend ever” and after hours of her sticking to your side like gum and telling you how both of you could even go into the vip section of that club because her boyfriend is known by the locals and many more, you agreed just so she would give you some peace.

Thats how you found yourself in a way to fancy club in the even fancier vip lounge all alone sipping on some cold beverage thats to expensive for its bad taste. Your gaze is set on Sira and her man laughing und danzing like there is no tomorrow. Your eyes sometimes shift to this one guy standing there with his friends conversing. Something about him just seems to draw your attention on him. Maybe its the way the purple light shines on his face, even a couple of meters away you can tell hes got those birthmarks on his really, really handsome face.

A scream shifts your attention to the other side of the club. Just some girl having had to much to drink. You want to turn around again and get back to observing that guy. But hes sitting right beside you. Jumping a little you look at your hands on the table holding an overpriced and not so good tasting beverage. Thank god its on the house -again Siras boyfriend- your bracing yourself because your sure your about to get told off for looking like some creep. But that never came instead; “I like your dress.”

And thats how you hit it of talking about how the club does not suite both of y’all’s taste and you would have much rather been invited to a more closed of, private and chill get together.

Never would you have expected him to lie about who he really is.

“I didnt want you making assumptions about me im not a bad person just bc i play football, im a nice guy you know that. I just thought that you would rather give me a chance being just me.” His eyes never meeting yours

“Your cute and kind Pablo, i like that about you and your fist name is nice, it fits you better”

Inching closer together and standing a bit on your tippie toes to fully reach his face

Pablos and your lips met in a soft and short kiss which had soon been intensified by Pablo’s hands that pulled you two closer together. His fingers caressed your cheeks. Even after parting from your lips they stayed right there providing you warmth and comfort You both stood there for a couple of seconds just smiling at each other, like some silly in love teens, which to be honest you guys kinda really are.

As you both then backed up a little bit. You wanted to make sure that nothing about your relationship -if you could call it that- had changed. “ so will you pick me up tomorrow? we should go on a date you as pablo and me as me.” I see his eyes get a bit wide wondering if he really thought that I would be so mad at him to not want to see him again my heart breaks a little thinking of that.

My stream of thoughts soon gets interrupted as he answers me. “Yeah! Definitely i will come straight after practice, don’t worry really!” His answer is a bit rushed. He seems excited. At least i hope he is. “Just make sure to not come smelly” we both laugh at that slowly inching more and more away even tho both of us would have loved some more time together. Having reached the door and getting my keys out i open the door, turning to him one last time debating if I should blow him a kiss or not but deciding against it, that can wait for after our date tomorrow.

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Alter Just found this after like 6 months 💀

[inkedroplets]

Leaves

The nights had grown long but Lena hadn't noticed. Her nights were already long. She spent them shuttered away in her office. Working. Immersing herself so deeply that when she finally left the office it felt like coming up for air after a very long time underwater. 

What hadn't escaped her notice was the nip in the air or the crunch of leaves beneath her feet. Autumn cold and autumn sounds that surrounded her as she walked the last few blocks to her penthouse. October had come which meant that she had been back in Metropolis for three months now. 

There had been a peculiar roundness in how her return to Metropolis so neatly mirrored her initial departure from it. How spontaneously the idea had seized her and how quickly she had made up her mind. She woke up with the idea of leaving National City already half-formed in her head and was on a plane that very evening.  She had spent the last two months dealing with the ramifications of once more pulling up stakes and moving L-Corp back to Metropolis. A headache, to be sure, but one she almost welcomed. It had kept her busy when she needed it most. Too occupied to dwell on things she would rather not think about, on people she would rather not think about. 

Each day it got a little easier to do both. And now? Things were better. Lena approached this realization with careful trepidation. As if she expected it to grow teeth or for the universe to enact its will upon her to prove her wrong. But it was true. Things were better. It wasn’t enough to bring a smile to her lips, she was too tired for that, but it was something. Like glimpsing light at the end of a very long, very dark tunnel.

A wind gusted past her, sending a shiver through her. She drew her pea coat around her (for all the good that would do). She thrust her hand into her pocket fishing around for keys when she heard the scrape of a footstep behind her. “Luthor.” She bristled as she always did when addressed in such a manner. Hello universe… “Yeah, it’s you,” he spat when she turned around and was able to get a better look at her. “Afraid so,” Lena said drolly. ���Can I help you with something?” Or would you just like to call me a bitch and I can be on my way? 

“Yeah, you can get the hell out of Metropolis. You never should have come back. We don't want you here.” He jabbed a finger at her and Lena couldn't help but think of an angry parent sending their child off to timeout. 

“I think there's a petition being passed around to that effect,” Lena said. “I'm certain they'd be happy to add your signature to what I assume is already a very long list.” 

“Yeah, I bet there is,” he sneered. “So why did you come back?” 

“Well, everyone here is so friendly,” Lena said, “how could I stay away?” She spared him a glance before she turned to go, not that she expected him to simply let her walk away. At the very least he would want the last word and she would only need a couple guesses as to what that word would be. 

Words were of little consequence. What did put her on guard was the slim chance he might try and actually hurt her. Her baton (which she sometimes kept stashed in one of her heels) was in her purse. She slipped the same hand she had been rooting around for her keys just moments before into her purse and found what she was looking for at once. 

Small favors, she thought when she realized he had fallen into step behind her. She closed her hand over it, thinking she might be able to catch him on the chin with it if she were quick enough. At the very least even a wild swing would allow her some distance and perhaps make him rethink trying again. 

“Go home. Now.”

Lena turned just in time to see the man step backward so quickly that he nearly fell over, his arms pinwheeling out to keep him upright. His gaze was tipped skyward and he opened his mouth to offer what Lena had to assume was either an apology or an explanation. 

She's a Luthor, she thought, feeling that would be reason enough for some people. 

But the only thing that came spilling out of his mouth was a mess of unintelligible sounds before he did an about face and began to retreat at a brisk jog, turning back occasionally. Lena watched him go, resisting the urge to raise her middle finger as he did. “You probably saved him a hospital trip.” “I might have saved you one…” “I liked my chances.” Lena slipped her baton from her purse and tapped it against the cement. “You’re a long way from National City.” “So are you, Lena.” “I moved,” Lena said, as if this was something that she had already forgot to mention. “Surely the DEO took notice.” “I noticed,” Kara said grimly. She landed on the sidewalk behind her, cape fluttering weakly as another bitterly cold wind passed over them. “Are you keeping tabs on me?” Lena asked. “There has to be better things Supergirl can be doing on a Friday night.” “Not keeping tabs,” Kara said evasively. “I just happened to be—” “In the neighborhood?” She shrugged before Kara had a chance to answer, not much caring to what the truth might be. The silence that followed went on so long that Lena almost convinced herself that Kara had flown off, only to be proven wrong when she heard the heavy flutter of her cape sounding almost ominous in the semi-darkness.

“You just left,” Kara said, sounding as if each word was one she weighed heavily before speaking. “I did,” Lena said and before Kara could fumble her way to her next point, Lena continued. “Was I supposed to tell you?" she asked, genuinely curious. "No," Kara said, clearly stung. "We're not friends anymore, Kara," Lena said, speaking slowly. She wasn't eager to open up old wounds, especially ones just so freshly healed but felt it needed to be said. It needed to end. "I don't think we ever were." She let out a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding in. "What else is there for either of us to say?" Lena stood there a while longer, shivering in the dark before she began to walk again, once more digging in her pocket for her keys, eager to get home. Another wind gusted over her, this one warmer, the force of Kara's takeoff sending red and orange leaves swirling into the air.

[macravishedbymactavish]

Hugging Headcanons (TF141 + König x GN!Reader)

Turns out, I'm better at full paragraph writing then headcanons, but we do our best in this house.

TW: Light swearing (like 2-3 words at most), little bit of cheeky adult(ish. Major ISH) behaviour, and mentions of anxiety/overthinking

| Blog HQ | Ghosts Version | Modern Warfare 2 Masterlist | 18+ MDNI | Taglist Open |

Soap:

If he had it his way, he'd be hugging you constantly. Loves (and I mean LOVES) physical contact and just being close to you in general.

He is also very vocal about this. From the beginning of your relationship he's made it known that he L I V E S for physical contact.

His favourite way to hug you is from behind, especially when you're not expecting it. The little jump then relaxing when you realize it's him brings him so much joy.

100% content with holding you from behind like this, chin resting on your shoulder as you do things.

Cooking? He'll be there, likely stealing some of the food before it's served (and laughing when he gets smacked with the spoon).

Paperwork? He'll try to hold you with one arm and write with the other, until Ghost or Price gives him shit because you're both now working at half your normal pace.

Anywhere, anytime. He's going to try to hug you.

If at any point you stop and think: "does Soap want a hug" the answer is yes. Always yes.

Soap always wants a hug, please hug him.

Ghost:

Would either be 100% hesitant and unsure of what he's doing, or 100% confident and assertive. No inbetween for this.

I feel he doesn't dislike physical contact (quite the opposite actually), but rather just hasn't had any physical or emotional connections in quite a while. So long in fact that he's grown fine without it. Until you came around.

Like context pre-hug aside, he probably did the cliche "tense right up then relax once he realizes he's safe" the first time you hugged him. Now he's hooked on the warmth of your body, the way you feel pressed into him, and how automatically relaxed he gets while being hugged.

Since he strikes me as someone who isn't huge on PDA (he's a rather private person) as much as he wants to hold you 24/7, he reserves this for moments when it's just the two of you.

The exception to the rule being stressful missions or any time when he was concerned for your wellbeing. He will gladly hold you close to remind himself that you're okay. No matter where you are, just a reminder that you're still here. You're still his. He pays no mind to anyone else in that moment outside of you and him.

He would NOT be open to questions or explanations the first time this happens, especially if it's in front of the guys. Yes, he's proud of you. Yes he's happy your his. No, they don't need to know every detail of your relationship.

Price:

I can see him being the "little bit obnoxious but a lot of love bear hug" type. Like you can't breathe but that's okay, he loves you a lot.

Much like Ghost - not huge on PDA. Partially because he likes to keep his personal life and work life seperate. But also a professional thing.

He leads a team, he has to keep up appearances. He also doesn't feel like dealing with his sergeants teasing the life out of him for being a softie.

He's also not a teenager anymore, his "I need to touch you at every minute of every hour" days are over. He's perfectly content holding you when appropriate/when he can.

He tries his best to balance work and home. Hugs and loving talks before bed are a MUST in this household. Of course you'll cuddle up in bed, but he makes a point to love up on you a bit more while you're both awake and can remember it.

Like everyone on this list: long hugs before he's deployed and when he first comes home. But I feel like his are more worth mentioning? He's been in the military either the entire time or majority of the time you've been with him. So because of that, you've sacrificed so much for this relationship so he could pursue his career/what feels right. The least he can do is set aside time for just you, to let you feel even a whisper of closure before he goes/when he returns.

I just imagine in the kitchen, tight hug. Ready to say goodbye, as he whispers stuff to you. Like whether it be bits of your vows, quotes he knows you live by, or just how much he adores you for everything. He would make an absolute point to give you another piece of his soul to treasure before he leaves (we can get into this more later if wanted)

Gaz

Another very playful soul. Not outward on PDA, but won't give up a chance to hug you quick or keep a hand on the small of your back.

You rank pretty high on the better things he has in life (if not on top), of course he's going to show you off. He landed a partner who is gorgeous inside and out.

As shown in game, he is a cheeky mf. So expect this to translate into the physical contact.

Mid-hug he may grab a handful of your ass, or start peppering kisses to your neck if hugging you from behind - then pretend like nothing happened (obviously in private. Time and place for everything folks).

I can see him being big on having his arm around your shoulders quite often. Like in resuraunts, resting his arm on the back of your chair, or doing the same while sitting on the couch with you. Just casual contact, a small flex of "they're mine, crazy right?"

Expect to be pulled into a tight hug, then dipped during your first kiss at your wedding. A little bit of flair and spice on your big day. Especially considering he got so flustered after your second or third date, that instead of going in for a goodbye/goodnight kiss he chickened out and opted to hug you close instead.

You melted when he told you that one night, when recounting the many stories and memories from your relationship.

So hugs, needless to say are pretty symbolic in your relationship

König

(Side note: I live and breathe the fact that his social anxiety is canon. I've never related to a character faster)

As anyone with social anxiety knows: it's not about whether you like physical contact or not -- it's normally the overthinking about "Do I initiate? Do I not? Do I pull away first? Am I hugging them for too long? Is this weird?"

He's very sweet overall, but quite awkward and overthinks hugging you initially. But wishes so much that you'd hug him over and over again.

He almost melts the first time you do, but is another "cliche freezes then relaxes" because he's so nervous. He really enjoys your company, he doesn't want to mess this up. He wants this to feel as nice and loving for you as it does for him.

Needless to say, it takes a little while and a lot of reassurance for him to get comfortable hugging you first. But when this day comes, oh boy watch out.

He will hug you at any opportunity. From behind hugs, side hugs, bear hugs, quick hugs, hugs where you do that little sway thing, hugs where you lightly rub the other persons back. He loves them all equally.

He especially loves hugs where you rest your face against his chest, and relax into him. Letting all the stress from your day fade for even a moment (because that's how he has always felt when you hugged him)

He found it both comical and endearing when you dragged a chair from across the room to in front of him to stand on so you could either (depending on your height and the chair)

1) Press your face into his neck without him having to bend right down

Or

2). Let him rest his head against your chest and relax.

Not that he'd ever admit it out loud, but that's the memory he finds himself thinking back to when he can't sleep during a long deployment. Or when he needs a quick pick-me-up after a long day.

Taglist: @bloodonmyhands-1221 @v1naco @bowtruckleninja

[weebsinstash]

I'm sorry but I'm going insane for your idea of Lilith and Luci getting a sinner pregnant together can we please have more of your thoughts on this idea 🙏

Absolutely because I'm a dirty little heathen and Season 2 isn't just about to magically pop up out of the ground and I've had SOME THOUGHTS and also this post is way longer than it should be 💀

I was sitting and I was thinking of the concept of the Hotel having communal breakfasts or having at least one day of the week where there's food served and everyone (typically) eats together, not only as a bonding/unity sort of thing but also simular to how real hotels can have complimentary breakfast as part of your stay, and like, yeesh this is actually an entirely separate fic idea in of itself but you're talking with Alastor and you're saying something along the lines of "oh yeah, well, I was actually starting to think a lot about motherhood before I died, but, raising children is so complicated, not to mention society right now is so genuinely hostile and dangerous to children, and i wouldn't have been able to afford it anyways, and, well, you know, NOW i literally can't have them down here"

AND FROM THE COMPLETE OPPOSITE END OF THE TABLE

COMPLETELY UNPROMPTED

HERE'S LILITH, "Oh! It wouldn't be impossible at all! You and Lucifer could still have a baby :)"

RECORD SCRATCH SOUND EFFECT AS EVERYONE LOOKS TO THE QUEEN OF HELL. She seems completely unbothered while her husband is A TOMATO, he can barely even look in your direction, he's just tugging on her sleeve, "L-Lili, cmon, don't say things like that 😳🥴" and awkwardly laughing, maybe even asking to speak to his wife in private (I feel like its a regular occurrence for these two to dip out of a room and reappear and Lilith is reapplying her lipstick as she re-enters followed by a kiss covered Lucifer lmao)

Can you even imagine going to Charlie, "hey um, this is awkward, your mom keeps like. Jesus please don't kill me I'm not a homewrecker but your mom keeps making comments about me having a baby with your dad and she sounds completely serious about it and shes been bringing it up for like two weeks" and you could not be saying this in a more obvious "hey girl this is weird and I don't like it, can you chat with your parents for me to stop this" kind of way BUT, the actual way Charlie is responding ALSO THROWS YOU OFF. I can see it already, Charlie all but LIGHTS UP WITH EXCITEMENT and she, takes a breath, "oh!! I mean!! You don't have to do anything you don't want to obviously, bbBUT UH THAT BEING SAID oh gosh that sounds like it would make you really happy, aaaaand and I know you wanted a family of your own and, hey isn't this place about new beginnings and" GIRL WE AREN'T HAVING A BABY WITH YOUR DAD TF?

You know how I made that post "hey Lucifer kind of appears to have these vague Master Of All type powers down in Hell, what if he could manipulate your dreams and made you dream about being a kid because he's wanting to heal your inner child/adopt you". I also started thinking recently about Lucifer AND OR Lilith using these powers to make you dream about 1) being with them in general and more specifically 2) motherhood and i started mentally deep diving for that shit. Like. It could genuinely actually get so fucked up actually. Could you imagine you're just, VULNERABLE with the Queen of Hell and you're drunk and you're crying and you're just, SPILLING EVERYTHING, she's getting your entire life's story, and she's petting your hair as youre way too drunk to realize youre telling her way too much, amd she's just thinking "oh you poor thing, human society sounds absolutely dreadful now" and like. Think of it from a hypothetical fantasy psychology perspective. It's not like Lilith has never been part of modern society, she's been a member of Hell forever and has only been out of contact for 7 years, BUT she also exists from a time predating all of that AND she built Hell with Lucifer, so like, imagine she actually starts forming some um Strong Opinions on how, it sounds like all these complicated modern things are really dragging you down, both as a person and as a free spirit, and comes to a consensus that your life needs to be a little... simpler

I'm serious, I'm talking "Lilith makes you dream about being In The Actual Goddamn Garden Of Eden Itself with her and Lucifer and you're ALL naked". Just completely controlling your dream. You're naked as the day you were born and so are they and you can't control your dream at ALL. Lilith is wanting to like, watch you peacefully frolic around, I'm talking she wants to see you having your Hot Nymph Summer where you're napping in beds of flowers and you're having birds land on your finger and you're gasping at all the pretty flowers and wanting to explore and, experiencing the beauty of being alive without all these messy modern nuances and it's like NO MAAM I DONT WANT TO PICK BERRIES FROM THAT BUSH, YOU CAN SEE M Y BUSH AND I CAN SEE YOURS AND YOUR HUSBANDS---

Alastor is over here thinking he's hot shit, "oh I do so wish we could return to simpler times without all these modern trivial problems!!" MEANWHILE LILITH IS LIKE. ACTUALLY GOING THAT EXTRA MILE. Alastor is like "boo cellphones are bad and women dont dress modestly enough, people these days spend too mych time with technology and not with family" meanwhile in "the garden" a completely naked Lilith is braiding your hair and weaving flowers into it while an also completely naked Lucifer is feeding you berries by hand as they discuss the idea of having a nice fun swim in the lake passed the glade, like you guys really are frolicking and fucking around like a bunch of fairies and it's. It's peaceful and fun but also you miss your cellphone and having underwear 😩 like miss queen of hell can I PLEASE get some boob support--

Moving on, I was thinking of the Fake Garden in of itself, as its own idea, but like in this poly baby raising context, it would be essentially Phase 1 of the plan to normalize their presences to you and make you more comfortable around them and then skipping into Phase 10 of "oh hey by the way you're gonna have a dream about um sleeping with the King and Queen of Hell and it's Totally Not Real and you're Totally Definitely Not Actually Like For Real For Real Legitimately Pregnant Now ;)" like. First off before I get any farther in this post can we just like acknowledge the like HEINOUSNESS of you not knowing everything is "real dreams" and LiliLuci using this to their full advantage to ask and find out anything about you because basically to them, they think you're just being boggled down and negatively influences by modern human society and you're like an onion they have to peel some layers off of first to expose those juicy inner tender bits

Just. Ok. Like. High level fantasy horror concept ok, here we go I'm gonna cook here:

It eventually does move on to you having dreams about living in an actual home with Lucifer and Lilith, sleeping with them in you know, All Those Ways, basically in what you think is some weird imaginary throuple that while you do find yourself enjoying it like actually, you can't wake up from it, and these dreams can feel WAY too long sometimes. You're dreaming of some, "am I a man dreaming I am a butterfly or am I a butterfly dreaming i am a man" shit where you hit the pillow in Hell and Dream You is waking up, seeing your husband and wife get ready for work and you're basically a pampered stay at home spouse. I honestly can't decide what dynamic would be cuter: both of them having jobs, you and Lilith having jobs while Lucifer is the house husband, only Lilith having a job while you and Lucifer do dumb shit at home, or Lucifer being big daddy and bringing home all the money while you and Lilith lounge by the pool and she takes you to the spa and pampers you all day and is sending texts and photos of how cute you are to her husband while he's working

You're probably thinking "wait but weeb this is actually kind of cute, where is the horror" and for starters it just kind of, mentally wears your energy down over time to 'never shut your brain off' and have true rest, like Lilith and Lucifer intentionally 'trade' you being alert in reality to you being more conscious in the dream world, so, you're not as present when you're around ACTUAL people as you are when you're in their little, fucked up pocket dimension.

Then you've got. The baby. You're pregnant ONLY in the dream. You have THE ACTUAL PAINFUL EXPERIENCE of giving birth, BUT THEN you're waking up and you can't hold your child, show them to your friends, have the, SANITY AND COMFORT OF KNOWING YOU ACTUALLY HAVE ONE. You're waking up DEVASTATED. Where's your baby? ���� oh right.... They're not... actually real... like it fucks you up psychologically

I just picture, if I were to put it in an order of events. You go from 1. Lilith and Lucifer are just your casual acquaintances, Charlie's parents that you know through her 2. They start getting closer to you as you stay longer at the Hotel 3. Ok we get along and have fun moments and even sing songs and we have fun times with your daughter ^^ 4. Ok you're getting maybe a little comfortable, am I tripping or are you a little too comfortable 5. You're Bush Out in Fake Eden 6. You accidentally slip up and get more cozy with them in reality because Ok Maybe The Stupid Garden Bullshit IS Fun And Maybe A Little Soul Healing 🙄 7. You're getting banged in the Garden 8. Being in reality is awkward now, suddenly you're avoiding them less, so you're dreaming about them more, having them push themselves closer to you in response to you trying to pull away, like even if you're spending entire days outside of the Hotel you can't escape needing to sleep eventually 9. Suddenly you're like, not in Eden, you're in a hospital getting an ultrasound w Lili Luci holding your hands as a doctor tells the three of you you're pregnant and oh no you're actually really happy and excited about it 🥺 10. crushing crushing reality. You're single and not pregnant and you're beating yourself up for these fucked up dreams you're blaming yourself for having, as if they're some self conscious desire and you're kinkshaming yourself for having them 11. Dream You is having your baby, everyone is so happy like it's actually so perfect, even when you're stressed as a first time parent you have so much love and support to keep you strong 12. You wake up and it's nothing but DEPRESSION DEPRESSION DEPRESSION where is my baby and my wife and my husband who love me and I love them DEPRESSION DEPRESSION DEPRESSION 13. Lilith and Lucifer HAVE TO to spill that Hey Our Baby Is Real because you're like going near insane with "grief" like youre like actually wanting to try and end your life or constantly self harming because Where Is MY CHILD 14. You're so fucked up at this point you don't care to ask questions when they hand your Very Much Real Baby to you looking exactly how you remember them from your dreams. You're just happy your baby is real and now you can be with them all of the time and you don't even care that um This Was Such A Fucking Ethically Dubious Conception.

Do you think the other Hotel residents would have a sliding scale of being ok with this. Like you just SHOW UP WITH THIS LITTLE BLONDE BABY IN YOUR ARMS and Lilith and Lucifer are all but glued to you and they're all fucking confused because WHEN DID THIS HAPPEN??? you barely even spend time with these two, or so they thought??? When were you PREGNANT??? HOW??? I feel like realistically if they aren't all, you know, as Equally Crazy For You, that they would find this extremely manipulative and fucked up MEANWHILE CHARLIE DOESNT CARE and may have been in on it.

Also "something something what if Reader being able to get pregnant also turned out to be like God Himself being like 'hey lucifer lilith here's the deal I'm throwing you a bone right now, ok, this is for you, to keep things chill between us mk' and there are added layers of Oh Shit You Were Created To Be With Them" as if your ass wouldn't have an impossible enough time escaping as is 😭💀

But like... the concept of Reader falling so deep into "grief" that it gets so bad that you're basically not eating or sleeping, Lucirer and Lilith were always gonna tell you but they're forced to do it abruptly because you just breakdown and can't stop crying. Or it's even Charlie disobeying her parents and running up to you with your baby who stops crying the moment they're in your arms

I also just... as a final note..... just as a cute palette cleanser there's one specific idea I keep thinking of... you have your new baby and you're showing it to all your Hotel buddies and you give it to Alastor to hold because your baby was giggling and gurgling at him and you're just, death grip on his shoulder, "alastor please hold my child :) they're excited go meet you, say hi" and while you're like, vaguely threatening him to interact with this baby which he has Extremely Valid Reasons To Find Abhorrent, his deer ears move or twitch, and your baby is just looking up at him with their big eyes, watching those ears twitch, and, poof! Your baby has their first Lucifer/Lilith related shape-shifting incident and suddenly your baby has twitching little red ears and they're looking up at Alastor with these big cute eyes and here you are, "alastor :) aren't you going to praise my baby :) they just had their very first shift and it's for you :) tell them what a good job they did :) you're not trying to make my baby uncomfortable are you :)" and. Ok Maybe this does win Alastor over a bit being the narcissist that he is BUT THE TRUE REWARD is Lucifer scrambling into the room after you call out in excitement, dropping to his knees and all but wailing, "NO, WHY IS MY BABY HAVING THEIR FIRST SHIFT FOR Y O U AND I MISSED IT" and you just have Alastor being an ABSOLUTE SHIT, suddenly oh so cozy with your baby, "well talent recognizes talent! This little one clearly has potential! Why, look at how clearly they ALREADY ADORE THEIR DEAR UNCLE ALASTOR >:)" and from then on you can't leave these two men alone with your baby or they'll be having nonstop contests to "win them over" and prove who the best role model/caretaker is

Ok. Lastly. Lastly lastly lastly. THIS BABY SPECIFICALLY IS RUINING MY LIFE. Look at those STUPID CHUBBY cheeks and those big eyes and how attentive and focused she is like oh my godddddddd if LiliLuci handed one of those to me "this is yours" i would just die like 🥺🥺🥺 man, I'll have to tell you guys later about my idea for "Reader wants to see if Rosie will let them adopt a Hellborn baby and Alastor helps vouch for you and lowkey becomes your husband/the child's second parent" or "Reader finds an abandoned imp baby and all the shenanigans/protective possessive feelings from your yandere/s that follow once you begin your motherhood journey "

[temporarywelcome]

Jezebel - James Patrick March

Word Count: 3.8k

Summary: Being in an arranged marriage with James March, but he's already completely smitten with his new wife, despite the fact he knows she plans on killing him. Hey, it's kind of hot.

WARNINGS: some swearing, some violence, death, sexual implications but no smut

A/N: they're so Gomez and Morticia. They match each other's freak. Yes, I used the vows from the Corpse Bride.

___________

James March was a very interesting man.

The way he carried himself as if he had no care in the world was enticing. He radiated confidence and grace, and was, well, an overall attractive man. 

And he was to be her husband. A fiance she never even met till tonight. 

It was 1923, a time where this “dating” thing was becoming popular, yet here the two of them were, meeting three weeks before their planned wedding. March was slowly becoming wealthier and wealthier, but his mother demanded he be wed, with a woman to take care of his estate while he did his business. Someone to care for him when she would eventually meet her own unfortunate demise. 

And so his mother found Y/N L/N, a pure beauty that many men oggled over obsessively. She was young, single, and his mother just could sense the compatibility when she saw Y/N’s lovely picture. Her son would love this girl. 

Except there was more to Y/N than meets the eye. 

Sitting at the dinner table, James eyed her in curiosity. “Did you come here from a funeral, darling?” he asked cheekily, his usual charming grin etched onto his face.

She looked up from her plate, raising a perfectly penciled in brow, “Why yes, actually,” 

He scratched the back of his neck, not expecting that answer. He had just meant to make a light-hearted joke about her attire: the long, ruffled black dress and hat to match in color, adorned with black and burgundy feathers. To accompany the clothing were sleek black gloves, lace along the wrist area. “Oh dear, my apologies. I hope I have not offended you.”

“No no,” she waved a hand dismissively, “It was not for anyone I knew,”

“Oh?” Now he was intrigued, taking a sip of his wine, the same color of her plump lips, “Then why would you attend such an event?”

“Death excites me,” she replied, and he was sure he had fallen in love right then and there, “As well as I find grief interesting to no end,”

“Interesting?” the man asked, smitten beyond compare, “What is so interesting about grief, my dear?”

Her lips curled into a devious smile, “How everyone grieves differently. Some cry, others laugh, some don’t give a damn. What I find the most hilarious is people establishing relationships. At a funeral of all places!”

“Horrid indeed isn’t it?” he asked with a chuckle. 

“It is! A splendid horror!” Y/N nodded in agreement. 

March watched as she expertly cracked open a crab leg, impressed in her abilities to do so without juices exploding everywhere. “You’re a stunning woman, you know?”

She looked at him from her meal and that devious smirk appeared once again, “And you’re a very handsome man, Mr. March,”

“Tell me, dearest, how old are you? Have you ever wed before?”

It looked like she had to think about it, which March thought nothing of at the time, already completely smitten. “Twenty-eight,” she replied, “And yes, I have,” 

“You have? And what had become of that marriage?”

“All three were tragedies,” she replied, bringing a piece of crab to her mouth with a fork. Three?! “I’ve sadly been widowed three times. A black widow, you might call me.” 

Three marriages that ended in the death of her spouse? March doubted this was any bit coincidental. “What an unfortunate event! On all three accounts! How did these poor souls die?” 

“Ah, all different ways. My first had a heart attack. The second, I still think to be my true love, committed suicide. Not because of me, of course, as he explained why in his letter. The third, he… he was tragically murdered one night,” 

Oh how intriguing of a woman she was! March asked, “Murdered! In what way?” 

“His throat was slashed,” she answered, “And he was drained of his blood.” Y/N then took a sip of her wine, not at all bothered by the fact. 

James March smirked, placing his chin on his palm as he stared at her. Oh, how infatuated he was. He was sure those death were not as she said they were. He was sure she had something to do with it. 

And he was sure as hell that if he married her, he would be her next target.

Oh, what a lovely woman he was so willing to marry!

________

The next three weeks went by in a blur. 

Y/N would wake up to endless gifts being left at her door: trinkets, jewels, flowers, heels, silk gloves, anything a woman could dream of. He would call her on the telephone at five p.m. every day just before dinner, and for those three Fridays he would take her on lavish dinners and dates. 

He went above and beyond for the woman he knew surely wanted to kill him. 

It was now the morning of the wedding, and Y/N’s telephone rang. She curiously went to it, grabbing the device and bringing it to her ear. Grabbing the other part in her unoccupied hand, she spoke into it: “Hello?”

“Hello, my dearest, I am thrilled to hear your beautiful voice this morning. It reminds me of sweet honey: smooth and-”

“James?” she interrupted him, “Why are you calling this early?”

James laughed lightly, “Because today is our wedding day, my love. I cannot call you at five p.m. because at five p.m. you will be in my welcoming arms! Are you excited?”

“I’m trembling in desire, darling,” she replied, “I must attend to my wedding preparations,”

“You will look absolutely ravishing, my sweet. Oh, how I adore you. I will leave you to your duties, anxiously waiting to wed my beautiful bride.” 

“I will see you very soon, my handsome king,” Y/N said, “Goodbye,” She hung up the two parts of the telephone and set it back down, preparing herself for her big day.

Her fourth big day. 

The stylists got to work, putting her hair in rollers, painting her nails a shiny jet black, carefully applying her dramatic makeup. She went for walks all done out, she wasn’t going to be caught slacking on her on wedding.

Fourth wedding. 

That James March knew of.

“How long do you plan on keeping this one for?” her loyal servant, Ms. Barnes, asked, blowing on the nail polish adorning Y/N’s fingernails. “He’s a handsome one.” 

Y/N thought for a moment, “I’m unsure. He is actually�� sweet.” 

“And rich,” said another servant, Ms. Michaels, busying herself with Y/N’s hair. 

“So was her second,” Ms. Barnes pointed out, “And he lasted three months.”

“His riches are not of importance to me,” Y/N told her servants, “I do not need a man’s riches when I have my own,”

“How true, Ms. L/N,” Ms. Barned nodded in agreement, “There is no point in having men if it isn’t for one’s own entertainment.”

_________

This was marked the best day of James Patrick March’s short life. 

He stood at the alter adjusting his bow tie with the biggest grin a man could have as he waited for his beautiful bride to grace the audience with her presence. Practically the entirety of Chicago came to the celebration of their love, rows upon rows of guests laid out before him as he anxiously waited.

And then she came down the aisle, the orchestra expertly playing the familiar tune of Here Comes the Bride as she took each step. She didn’t just want an organ player, she wanted the whole deal. The organ, violins, a beautiful symphony as she had her big moment. And of course, James was quick to make the arrangement for his beloved. 

She was an absolute beauty, in a large dress that took up most of the aisle’s width. Black and lacey, with tiered ruffles, off the shoulder to show off her soft shoulders. Her veil was also black lace, partially covering her face, the back half dozens of feet long. His fiance was a maximalist, and he made sure she was about to get an equally maximalist wedding. 

The wedding went as planned. When it was James’ turn to do his vows, he raised his hand as previously instructed during the practice, “With this hand, I will lift your sorrows.” he raised his chalice, “Your cup will never be empty, for I will be your wine,” he poured the red wine into the glass. Red as her lips. Her signature color. He placed down the chalice, grabbing a lighter for the candle that was in front of him, “With this candle, I will light your way in darkness,” Finally, he grabbed her ring, the blood ruby shining in the light of the candle, “With this ring, I ask you to be mine,” he slid it onto her slender finger before pressing a chaste kiss to her knuckles. 

Y/N perfectly recited the vows as well, slipping the ring onto his finger. They then took their glasses and took a sip of the sweet wine, before finally, sharing a kiss to seal the deal. James carefully moved her veil, revealing the face of the seductress that had his heart. His arms went around her as he leaned in, kissing her with all of the passion in him.

They were now wed. 

The wedding activities soon began, the newly weds beginning their first dance. James brought an arm around her waist, pulling her close as they began to dance, “You look absolutely stunning, darling, you have impeccable taste of fashion,”

“Hm,” she replied with a smirk, “I think I have upset quite a few with the color of my dress,”

“To hell with them. All of them, jealous of your immense beauty,” said March, pressing a kiss to her jaw, “I just might be the luckiest man in this room. Such a dazzling woman I have in my embrace,” with a smirk, he whispered in her ear, “I could just die from excitement,” 

_________

The next few months went by in a blur.

James March made sure to treat Y/N like a queen, spoiling her beyond compare. He knew she wanted to kill him, but did not say a word. She knew about his special new hobby. She didn’t say anything either. 

Once the fifth month passed, Ms. Barnes, who was diligently doing Y/N’s hair, said: “I think we have ourselve’s a record. Five months, the longest you have kept a husband.” 

She hummed in response, lighting a cigarette, “Correct. The longest. I have not become bored of him just yet.”

“Well, he’s not a boring man, Mrs. March,” Ms. Michaels mused, “He treats you like gold,”

“That he does,” Y/N said in agreement, a satisfied look on her face, “I don’t think any of my ex-husbands have treated me this well. It is quite… refreshing,”

“You don’t have to kill him, you know?” Ms. Barnes told her, “You’re allowed to find happiness,” 

“But, Ms. Barnes, that is what gives me happiness,” she shrugged, taking a long puff of her cig, “There is just something so wonderful about…. Watching the life… leave their eyes,” she smiled sweetly, sighing in joy at the thought, “However, I quite like James alive. Perhaps I would need a new fix.” 

Over the past few years (124, to be exact), Y/N had a cycle. She would tease herself, almost edge herself by only drinking the blood of animals to quench her thirsts, marry a man, and once she couldn’t handle it anymore, kill him. Usually in some fun, intricate way. Then she would feast on his blood until he was completely dry.

It was a fun game that has kept her satisfied for decades already.

Until now.

The thought of killing James March didn’t sound right to her anymore.

“We have a ball today,” she told her servants, “I’m sure I will find someone of use for the night,” 

James had vowed to make two days of October the biggest spectacle of Chicago. October 30th, his birthday, which he named Devil’s Night, because he was dramatic like that. The day that came after was Y/N’s birthday, October 31st, Halloween, which very much fit her. 

So not only was Devil’s Night a huge celebration, but so was Halloween, the night of James March’s beloved. 

There was a soft knock on the door, and James entered the room, “My love! You look ravishing,” he practically pushed through the two servants, placing his hands on her shoulders, placing a few kisses along her neck, “Absoutely stunning, dear,” he then pressed a kiss to her cheek.

“James! You’ll mess up my makeup!”

“No matter, just reapply it. I’ll always buy you more,” James replied smugly, kissing her cheek again, “My beautiful wife. Happy birthday again. I feel my present for you would look lovely with your dress,” He glanced at Ms. Barnes and Ms. Michaels, “Shoo shoo,” he waved them off.

“Behave,” Y/N deadpanned. 

“My apologies, dearest,” he said, though he obviously didn’t give a damn, “I just can’t wait to get you alone,” he nipped at her neck. Noticing the warning look in her eyes, he laughed, pulling away, “Fine fine, evil woman. Close your eyes while I give you your gift!”

Y/N smirked lightly, closing her eyes as her husband took out her gift. Obviously a necklace, feeling him place it along her neck, the large jewels cascading down her chest. He fastened the clasp, pressing a kiss to the back of her neck, “Open your eyes, darling,” 

Her eyes opened, and she smiled in pleasant surprise. Of course, the necklace was adorned in huge diamonds, he was never cheap when it came to his beloved. “Oh, James, it’s wonderful!” she said, meeting his gaze through the mirror, “Thank you,”

“Ah, anything for you, my dear,” James smirked, squeezing her shoulders from behind, “My beautiful wife.” he tucks a strand of hair behind her ear fondly, “We could always be late to the party,” he said suggestively.

“Late? To my own party? I think not,” Y/N stood up, laughing at the pout on her husband’s lips, “Don’t fret, dear, I will be all yours when the night ends.” she promised, arms going around his neck as she stared into his dark, dark eyes, “But for now you must wait,” she stuck out her tongue, teasingly grazing his earlobe.

“You naughty girl,” James said in excitement, gripping her hips, ‘You Jezebel you,” 

She giggled seductively, “All for you, my dear,” 

Oh, she did not want to kill him. Not at all. 

And so they left the room and made way to the grand spiral staircase. The couple stopped at the top, James releasing her hand, “Stay here, darling, let me introduce the star of the night!” he made the descent down each step until he stood at the bottom gathering the attention of the guests scattered all throughout their grand home. He introduced his wife, holding out a hand to her as she made her way down the steps.

Each step was careful and precise (like usual, her dress was huge), radiating confidence as she greeted her guests. Y/N took her husband’s hand, allowing him to bring her close.

The night festivities went as planned, Y/N certainly enjoying the effort her husband took into making sure her birthday went perfectly. He always went above and beyond for her, always seeking her approval. He was completely devoted.

After a while, Y/N purposely got separated from him in search of someone. A victim. If she wasn’t going to kill her husband, she had to kill someone else. She was tired of teasing herself.

It didn’t take her long to find some stupid man, some lawyer named George. He was quick to get handsy with her, so she led him off to one of the many guest rooms. He was desperately ripping at her dress, which she loosened up with an eye roll. 

God she wasn’t in the mood for this. 

She pinned him down to the bed, glaring at him darkly, tongue darting out to lick her lips. He was annoying. He didn’t have that sexy drawl like her husband. Those dark but comforting brown eyes. Those hands fit perfectly on her hips.

It wouldn’t matter to her if this man died. 

And with a smirk, she raised a hand, each finger covered by a claw-like ornament, a gift from her loving husband, of course. He said it “fit her style”.

He was so right.

She let her index finger run along his chest, then slowly his throat, leaving goosebumps along the trembling skin, until with a swift motion, she swiped her finger, swiped the claw, and his throat was slit. Buying her face into his neck, she lapped up the sweet flavor of his blood. 

Finally, she needed this.

As she hungrily drank, the door opened. 

“Oh, dearest, whatever are you doing?”

Y/N shot up, head snapping in the direction of James March. Her husband. However, he didn’t seem terrified. Or pissed. 

He simply laughed, arms going around her from behind, “My love is either a lunatic or a vampire. Or both.” he gripped the ribbons of her dress, tightening her corset to fix it, “I must say… It’s rather sexy.”

And so began a new dynamic.

James took it upon himself to do the dirty work. His wife should never get those soft hands dirty. 

And so he did the killing, and she would watch, with a look of approval on her face. He would then take her hand and help her out of her chair and towards the body, admiring how she looked as she drank the man dry. 

“That was supposed to be me, wasn't it?” He asked during one of their little “sessions”. “You wanted to drain me of my blood.”

She wiped her face with the back of her hand and she glanced up at him, “possibly.”

“It's alright, my dear, I take no offense,” he laughed, grabbing a cloth to clean off his knife. “I must have earned the right to live, huh?”

She smirked up at him, “not many would do this for their wives,”

And their dynamics continued. He killed, she ate, they had hot sex after.

And it worked well. 

James ended up building a grand hotel, all of Chicago raving over it. The Hotel Cortez. He originally wanted to name it after Y/N, his beloved, but she herself told him that was a stupid idea. 

They spent a lot of time there, whether it was to aid guests, host events, pass time, or even pick off a few victims. 

After a while, they even began to discuss the possibility of children. James was dead set on two: a boy (named James March JR, of course), and a girl (named after you, of course).

Y/N made it clear she found that to be extremely boring. Just naming the children after themselves? How cliche.

Pretty much every night after basically rearranging her organs, he would lay with her and yap and yap and yap about how it's important for them to continue their legacies, and then he yaps some more about if the baby inherits her thirst for blood if it would be immortal and all these different questions.

They were planning for the future, until disaster struck.

A peaceful day in the hotel, James having his lovely wife in his embrace as he spoke to patrons. She went off on her own duties after a while, until meeting with James again in one of the rooms.

Something was wrong.

Once he saw her, he rushed to her and gave her a rough kiss, cupping her cheeks with such urgency, “My love….” He whispered, “someone ratted me out. Someone knew.”

“Whatever do you mean?” she whispered, hands going to his wrists as she looked up at him, “You mean…?”

“Yes, our little hobby,” March brought her against his chest, an arm around her waist, a hand raking through her hair, “Oh how I hope it wasn’t you who told. Don’t even tell me, I would be devastated,” he sighed, resting his chin on the top of her head. 

“No, James,” she replied in a quiet tone, “I did not tell anyone. You know I love you.” She pulled away slightly to look up at him, “If I wanted you gone, you know I would have killed you myself.”

A soft smile reached her husband's lips as he pressed a kiss to her forehead, “Always the loyal wife. I adore you, my dear.” There was a hint of genuine sadness in his tone as he held her close. “Will you be the one to finish me?”

Y/N shook her head right away, “No!” she pulled away completely, “No, I won't. You've been the only husband I've loved. I can't…. I can't kill you.”

With another sad smile, he held her again, “I understand, dearest. Just… stay with me while I do it? Please?”

This couldn't be happening. It really couldn't.

But she nodded, face buried in his chest, “Yes… I'll stay with you,”

“Thank you, my love,” he sighed, kissing the top of her head. He held her for a moment before pulling away and taking her hand, sitting down. There was a knife on the table and he shakily grabbed it. “This won't be the first throat I slash,” he tried to joke, but it came out flat. James squeezed her hand as he brought the knife to his throat, but his wife speedily stopped him.

“I'll…. I'll do it,” she gulped out, trembling hand taking the knife from him and placing it back on the table.

“Are you sure? You don't have to, my love, I can do it myself.”

“No, no, I-I'll do it,” she repeated. Y/N seated herself on her lover's lap, arms going around his neck as she captured his lips in a desperate kiss. She could feel tears forming as she realized this would be their last kiss.

Her last kiss with the first husband she's ever loved. 

Maybe this was her punishment for all of her terrible deeds. The universe taking away the one man she ever truly loved. 

As they continued to kiss, she brought her clawed index finger to his throat, fingers trembling the closer she got. She pulled away from the kiss, “R-Ready?”

Despite everything, he smiled. “I'm ready, darling.” he pressed his forehead against hers, “I will always be with you,” 

And with that, she slashed his throat.

Y/N let out a soft cry watching the life quickly leave his eyes, the one man she wanted to stay alive. “Oh, James…” she cupped his cheeks, kissing his lifeless lips. “I love you I love you I love you,”

She could hear loud footsteps coming up the stairs, and she knew it was time to go. She grabbed the knife, bringing it to his bloodied neck before placing it into her lover's hand.

And with that, she climbed out the window.

“I will always be with you,” the words hung in her mind as she went down the fire escape.

She didn't know he was going to keep his word, even in death. 

---------

Yall i love him. inbox is open btw

[sohnric]

paris – l. juyeon

pairing: lee juyeon x fem! reader

genre: exchange student! juyeon in paris (ft. his erasmus friends). friends to ???, angst, fluff. actually, the genre is longing. halloween party au but the halloween part plays like,, 0 part in the fic, basically. idk the paris pics did something to me he is so european coded. paris by the 1975 without the drugs in a fic, essentially

warnings: cheating from yn's side, swearing, alcohol, smoking. the reader is canonically french im sorry 💀

word count: 6k

There’s quite a few reasons why Juyeon never told his friends from home about you- the girl he met on his student exchange trip. Some were the cause of Juyeon’s insecurities in himself, some the cause of your relationship status, all the cause of his unrequited love and the way you broke his heart, making Juyeon’s whole memory of Paris a bit hazy and bittersweet and the leave, paradoxically, that much harder. But still– and maybe you’re the reason for it– oh, how he’d love to go to Paris again.

a/n: do NOT cancel me for being a casual matty healy enjoyer i am a 2014 tumblr girlie at heart

“And where are my gifts? Where are the souvenirs?” Hyunjae calls after the boy that’s still kind of jet lagged from the flight (even though it’s been 3 days since his landing and he slept the whole day after his brother picked him up from the airport), the latter looking at him with tired eyes. 

“That’s all you want from me after not seeing me for 6 months?”

“Yes. Where’s my baguette?” Hyunjae glares, making the younger boy whine at the request.

“I didn’t know you wanted a hard rock baguette from me. If I had known, I would’ve taken one with me and smashed it against your head the moment I arrived here.”

“Well, if it’s authentic,” Hyunjae shrugs, laughing. “I’m just joking… I know we’ve been calling and texting like, every other day, but let me ask again. How was it?”

Juyeon finally smiles at his friend’s question. This is what one expects after coming home from studying abroad for 10 months– not a souvenir request. And trust me, Juyeon did bring gifts, out of the warmth of his own heart, but after being asked for them, he kind of doesn’t want to play Santa anymore. Kind of like when you decide to wash the dishes, but your mum tells you to do it at the same time of your decision– the motivation fades away the mere second you’re requested to do the thing.

“Well, it was good,” he shrugs, “it was… something,” Juyeon says– because how does one fit 10 months of their life into a few sentences without stammering– and before he gets a chance to say anything, Hyunjae catches him off guard with another inquiry.

“Is it true, by the way? Are European girls really prettier?” he grins, wiggling his eyebrows at the boy as if to suggest something– but all it does is make Juyeon shrug, acting not really bothered with the question. 

“Dunno,” he hums, “I think it’s equal to here.”

“So you’re telling me you went 10 months without getting laid in France?” Hyunjae gasps, making Juyeon furrow his brows in utter disbelief.

“When did I say that? Or anything that would even suggest that?” 

Now, this was a trap. Juyeon is too gullible. See, Juyeon was pretty transparent with everything during his calls with Hyunjae back when he was in Paris. He told his friends back home all about the European food, the rock-hard french baguettes, the weird looks and annoyed sighs he got when speaking English to the clarks in the shops, the cold showers in his accommodation and the pretty park in front of his university building. They also know all about his friends from Paris– the international students he met in his course like Shotaro from Japan, Bence from Hungary and Marco from Italy– but when the question of girls came around, specifically in the romantic light of things, Juyeon went awfully quiet. You can’t blame Hyunjae for getting into suspicions.

“So you did?” Hyunjae gasps, grasping at the straws.

Juyeon sighs, reaching for his bag. His awfully big hand slips inside of the black backpack, fingers touching various things before he brings out a bunch of gifts: a keychain with the Eiffel tower, some magnets, postcards, a fashionable beret he found in one of the souvenir stores but never saw anyone actually wear in the whole 10 months in the streets of Paris, some perfume and high quality chocolate. Hyunjae’s eyes go wide, making satisfaction swim through Juyeon’s veins at the sight– he managed to deflect the attack.

Sometimes, having materialistic friends is a plus.

As he watches Hyunjae touch all the things on the table, fingers trailing over metal and the shiny wrapping of the dark chocolate with an acknowledging nod, Juyeon takes out another thing out of his bag– his digital camera that he brought along for the ride. He sent his friends a lot of pictures when he was in Paris, and he also posted quite a few on Instagram for everyone to see, but the camera held more memories and more moments than anyone’s ever seen before– it’s a source of treasure for himself as well, but he figures it wouldn’t hurt to share a glimpse with his best friend.

“Wanna see? I took tons of pictures, but you can look through only the interesting ones, if you want to,” Juyeon hums, offering the camera to the male, the display already shining at him from the gallery, small icons of all pictures on the SD card in a 3x3 row on the small thing. 

A few pictures of the town are on preview right now, but if you scroll through the gallery, moments of his friend Marco’s birthday party that his friends threw for him, or the snapshots of his friend’s faces come into sight– Juyeon’s sure Hyunjae’s eager to see how all of the people he’s been talking to him about look like.

Hyunjae nods, taking the camera from him and squinting at the little icons. His fingers move along the touch screen and scroll through the gallery, eyes zooming on the interesting ones and grinning as he shows them to Juyeon, awaiting the backstory of a certain image. 

Everything goes well, until Hyunjae gets to the latest pictures on the SD card– well, apart from the ones Juyeon took from the window on his flight home. And Juyeon really doesn’t know what he was thinking, but hey– sometimes he doesn’t think things through as much as he should– and that’s why when a particular photo comes into his best friend’s sight, turning the camera towards Juyeon with a shiteating grin on his face, the question ‘Who’s that?’ makes the poor boy a bit shaken.

His tall figure, standing alongside someone shorter– you, in your vampire costume, fake blood running down the side of your mouth, a hand thrown over his shoulders and your side pressed into his a bit too close as he stares down onto you with an obviously star-struck face, suit covering his body in a poor attempt at Joker’s costume– the moment stares back at him like a haunted memory.

He clears his throat. “That’s… that’s just Y/N.”

Hyunjae hums, having a staring contest with the picture on the screen. The date on the bottom reads 31/10/23, the last day of Juyeon’s stay before he had to go home. “How come I’ve never heard about Y/N?”

“There wasn’t much to say, I guess,” Juyeon shrugs, taking a sip from the bottle of beer on the table.

“Sure…” Hyunjae doubtingly nods, scrunching up his nose in disbelief.

“I’m serious. She’s just a friend I met there,” Juyeon offers, licking his lips in nerves. 

And it’s the truth– you were just a friend and there really wasn’t much to say about you two– so why does Juyeon’s heart hurt a bit as he recognizes the events of the night as if it happened yesterday? Why does he feel nostalgic, maybe a little bitter about the way you two left off? 

Hyunjae doesn’t know, but there’s quite a few reasons why he never heard about you in the first place. Some were the cause of Juyeon’s insecurities in himself, some the cause of your relationship status, all the cause of his unrequited love and the way you broke his heart, making the whole memory of Paris a bit hazy and bittersweet and the leave, paradoxically, that much harder. 

But still– and maybe you’re the reason for it–

oh, how he’d love to go to Paris again.

31/10/2023

The buzzing of the room makes Juyeon’s already thumping head ache in its crevices, the smell of alcohol in the breath of everyone talking to him only making his stomach twist and turn with acid. He’s had his fair amount of drinks himself, but there is a very faint line between the amount that’s just enough to keep him going through the night and the amount that makes him puke and have a two-week hangover, and with the flight home he has to take tomorrow afternoon, he doesn’t think drinking more would be a good idea.

“Don’t break it!” Juyeon tiredly hurries out as he sees his friend Marco handle his camera, the device almost falling out of the foreign friend’s hands. 

“I won’t! Hold on, let me just–” the Italian mutters, the coating of vodka shots and the cheap red wine (made to look like blood to keep things festive) making his words slur together as he speaks. 

Juyeon reaches towards his drunk friend (while also questioning how he’s going to take a plane back to Italy tomorrow in a very hungover state) and tries to pray the prized possession out of his hands, but comes to a fail as the tall man waves him off with a theatral arm wave, shoving the poor boy towards the white wall and putting the camera up against his own face. “I’ll take your picture! So you can– you only take pictures of us, Juyo,” he rambles on, “I’ll take your picture so you can show it at home to your friends!” Marco grins, having Juyeon aimlessly sigh and stretch out his lips into a fake smile, waiting for his friend to take the picture so he can get his camera back to safety.

“Me too! Me too!” he suddenly hears from somewhere to his right, and before he has the chance to decipher the owner of the female voice, a weight on his shoulder tells him you just jumped at his side– almost topping him over and into the spooky decorations to his right– as you giggle into his ear. “Have it?”

“Aaaalmost!” Marco stretches out as he squints at the camera– and in the spare few seconds before the shutter goes off, Juyeon allows himself to stare down at your figure glued to his side. You’re wearing a dark lipstick on your smile, a drip of fake blood rolling down the side of your mouth. There’s a corset top enveloping your middle and a flowy black skirt only pulling the whole look together even with the absence of fangs– and while you don’t suck out his blood, Lee Juyeon can physically feel how you sucked out all oxygen out of his lungs in your sexy vampire costume. 

He’s seen you around tonight, but he never got the courage to walk up to you. Something about this being his last night in Paris might be the reason why. 

He was simply too bummed out about how things between you and him never went further than fits of laughter in class as you helped him with his French, or friendly hugs when you bid him goodbye at the corner of his street. Maybe it was his own fault for falling for someone so out of his reach. He always knew his stay in France was temporary– hell, he was an exchange student, he was aware of what he was getting himself into– but still, he couldn’t help but recognize the familiar warmth in his stomach whenever you were around and the strange racing of his heart whenever you were close enough for him to smell your shampoo for what it was. He was completely, utterly smitten with you– a french local that would be erased out of his lifestyle as soon as he lands back home in Korea.

The shutter of the camera is all it takes to break his train of thought, making him snap his head back to his Italian friend. A sigh of relief is heard in the room as Juyeon finally reunites with his digital camera (he was surprised to see Marco let go of it so easily), and before he has the chance to think of a conversation topic to indulge in with you, you have his words catching in his throat at your own pace of speech.

“Have you been here for long?” you ask, flattering your eyelashes at him. Juyeon gasps before he presses his lips together into a tight line, shrugging.

“A bit.”

“Why haven’t you said hi?” you frown. “You said it’s your last night! You wouldn’t leave without a goodbye, would you?” you shake your head at him, playfully poking his shoulder with your pointer finger.

He was going to. Not anymore, he guesses.

“No,” he disagrees instead, “I was gonna look for you when it was my turn to leave,” he quickly comes up with an explanation, having your features relax as a warm smile overtakes your pretty features again.

Even with your face all bloody and your eyes having dark circles under them from eyeshadow (and mascara that weared off a little, which you were completely unaware of), Juyeon finds you absolutely, utterly and fascinatingly beautiful. He’s glad no one is able to read his inner monologue– or else he’d be the one with blood running down the side of his face. If the punch to seal the cut would be coming from you or your boyfriend, he’s not quite sure. 

Maybe both. The main thing is, you’re taken and his feelings aren’t reciprocated. 

Which is why his silly crush on you that maybe, just maybe, turned into something more meaningful was that much damaging to his poor soul. 

Because Juyeon swears he never loved anyone before, but after spending the night with you drinking cheap wine in his empty dorm room on his birthday completely alone– since it fell on a Sunday this year and he didn’t have that many friends yet to celebrate with, only having spending 2 weeks in Paris at the time– during which you taught him French swear words and kissed his cheek goodbye (which he thought may be a cultural thing, although he wasn’t sure); after all of this, he felt like you’re the person he’ll think of when someone asks him about his first love when he's old.

And even if he had the balls to do anything about it (which he didn’t), he simply couldn’t. You were out of reach.

“You’d better,” you hum, “or else I’d hitchhike a plane and come over to Korea just to kick your ass.”

“You can’t hitchhike a plane, you weirdo.” 

You sigh, shaking your head. “Of course I can. Watch me.”

Juyeon finds himself grinning at the adorable determination in your voice. It makes him feel a certain type of way that he knows he shouldn’t– but after spending 10 months with the feelings (5 of which you were single, 5 of which you’ve spent dating your boyfriend) and absorbing the idea of leaving you and everything behind tomorrow, Juyeon no longer feels as guilty about the act of loving you. Not anymore– not tonight.

“I like your costume,” Juyeon comments, pointing to the attire you’ve dressed yourself in.

“Really?” your eyes light up. “Look, I even wore the bow my idiot of a boyfriend said looks tacky,” you say, making a little twirl for the man. Your skirt flows nicely in the air and you stumble a bit due to the alcohol in your system, but when Juyeon catches you by your forearms and steadies you, there’s a content smile sitting on your lips despite your previous sentence.

“It looks pretty on you,” Juyeon hums, nodding. “It’s not tacky at all.”

“I always knew you had more taste than him,” you sigh dramatically, making Juyeon question your actions. 

Oh? 

“Anyways, I like your costume as well,” you comment. 

“Thanks,” he says, although his half-assed attempt at a Joker’s costume wasn’t anywhere near your level of preciseness, “Shotaro was supposed to go as Harley to match with me, but he pulled out of it at the last minute,” Juyeon pouts.

“Gosh! That would’ve been fucking amazing,” you laugh, swatting your friend in the arm playfully– the way you always do when you laugh– but as you come down from it, there’s a bitter tone in your voice. “I asked my boyfriend to wear a couple’s costume too, but he said all my costume ideas were lame.”

“Y/N–” Juyeon starts, wanting to speak up about the matter very obviously present in the conversation, wanting to console you, say anything, but you cut him off again– your courtesy– with a shrug and a grin on your face made to mask your true emotions (didn't work. Juyeon knows you too well).

“It’s okay. That’s why I dressed up as a slutty vampire just to spite him,” you say. 

“What’s his costume?” Juyeon asks.

“Not sure. I think he just bought the Scream mask, or something,” you mutter, rolling your eyes at the male.

And now, Juyeon was never big on gossip. But if gossiping meant poking fun at your boyfriend, the last night before his plane back home takes off is not the time he’s passing on a snarky comment. “Lame.”

“I’m so glad we are on the same page, Juyo.”

His heart leaps at the nickname– a lot of people call him that, but the tone you say it in, the sweet melody of your voice as you throw it at him like a promise (of everything and nothing at all– you’re fond of him, but never fond enough), only you have this effect on him when you call him that. He wishes he had you saying his name recorded, documented somewhere on his phone, your accent and all, so he could hear you say it when he foolishly misses you in the middle of the night, like he knows he will when he lays awake at home, in his tiny, silent room.

“Do you want to get out for a bit? It’s getting too hot in here,” you say as you wave yourself, hoping to cool off, but failing miserably with the heat created from the bodies swimming through the house, and Juyeon finds himself nodding at your question.

Your feet drag you outside of the house, the cold breeze instantly cooling down your sweaty bodies. You two stand on the front porch together, watching the world around you revolve in a fast, yet slow manner– there are couples making out in the corner of the yard, one of them pressed up against the tree, and friends chasing each other down in zombie costumes, passing by bottles of alcohol between each other. 

Juyeon hears you hum, making him turn his head towards you and see you offering a cigarette to him. He'd never been much of a smoker before, but Europe taught him to never turn down a cigarette when offered, and so he only takes out one out of the pack, watching you mirror his movements. You fish for your lighter in your bra (and Juyeon finds himself too mesmerized to look away during the action), clicking it and putting the flame against the cigarette trapped between his lips.

He doesn’t know what it is about the action that makes his eyes hooded as he watches you– noticing the forgotten speck of glitter from some step of your makeup routine under your eye, making him want to swipe his thumb over it and take it off for you– but he can’t get his gaze off you as he breaths in the smoke, his head going more fuzzy than it has been only a few minutes prior.

When Juyeon’s cigarette is lit, you move to light your own, all while the male watches you with almost a dreamy look on his face. Somehow, he’s glad no one’s watching you. He doesn’t think he would be able to conceal his feelings for you tonight.

“Are you gonna miss this?” you suddenly ask, looking up at him from his right.

You? Absolutely. 

“I think so,” he nods, “it’s a lot different to home, but I made a lot of memories here.”

He watches a hint of smile spreading over your features. “Do you remember when you accidentally told our professor you were horny instead of excited?” you laugh.

“Oh, shut up,” Juyeon laughs at the memory. His French never really got to a perfect level– that’s why most of you settled on speaking English between each other– but the first few weeks were a living hell of a language barrier for Lee Juyeon. “The more concerning part is that this is what made you approach me,” he notes.

“Well, I recognised that you needed help, and I was willing to provide it,” you say, taking a drag out of the cigarette and blowing the smoke into his face.

Juyeon looks at you through the smoke cloud, snickering. “I’m kinda grateful, though. You were the first friend I made here.”

You look at him with a tender look– something so full of care Juyeon swears he feels his stomach doing somersaults– before you press your lips into a solemn smile. “Well, I’m honored, Juyeon Lee,” you drag out in a posh accent, making the boy break out into a laugh.

He takes another drag off the cigarette, inviting the nicotine into his system. Mixed with the alcohol in his veins and your aura surrounding him, he almost feels on cloud 9, like he’s flowing in space and he can’t get down. He watches as you lean over the railing of the porch, forearms meeting with the metal in a set of goosebumps. Breeze flies through the air, making your barely-clothed figure shiver.

He knows he probably shouldn’t. Your boyfriend is somewhere inside, and although you two are seemingly in a weird sort of fight, it’s not his place to act as a gentleman. 

Still, Juyeon finds he has nothing to lose. He shrugs off the suit jacket he’s been wearing and drapes it over your shoulders wordlessly, noticing the way you look back at him over your shoulder with a soft smile on your lips. 

A comforting silence overtakes you two. Juyeon takes the last drag off the cigarette and puts it out on the iron railing, enjoying the effect your sheer presence has on him. The music coming out of inside is only a mere background noise now, providing him an occasional distraction to the buzzing of his own thoughts.

“Say, Juyo,” you start, “do you know where Dorothy lives?” you ask.

Juyeon hums in disagreement. “Don’t think I do. Why?”

“I’m sleeping over at hers tonight,” you mumble, mentioning your best friend– the girl Juyeon’s met plenty of times in the 10 months of knowing you. “I was supposed to stay at Andre’s, but I’m not talking to him right now.”

“Oh,” is all Juyeon says. The mention of your boyfriend always throws him off the track a little.

“I dunno where Dorothy went, but I’m getting kind of sleepy.”

“Why can’t you just go home?” he asks.

“Juyo,” you laugh, “my parents would kill me if I got home tipsy and smelling like cigarette smoke. Don’t you know how they are?” you joke, shaking your head in disbelief.

He doesn’t. He kind of wishes he had the chance to know, though– because if he knew your parents, maybe it would imply something. Signify something more.

“Do you want me to walk you to Dorothy’s?” 

“Yeah,” you nod, lids heavy. Juyeon doesn’t know what time it is, but the last time he checked, it was well past midnight– he doesn’t think he’d stay around much longer himself.

“Okay,” he nods, watching as you slowly peel yourself off the railing and wear his suit jacket properly, the fabric drowning you, but keeping you warm. The sight, the sentiment of it, makes Juyeon’s hands shake and his throat go dry. You’re so close, yet so out of his reach.

Your feet are slow as you march towards the direction of your best friend’s house. Juyeon doesn’t know how far it is, but he wishes for you to take the long way home– if those are the last moments he has with you, he wants to drag the evening out the best he can.

The night is quiet. The only thing ringing in your ears is the sound of your own footsteps, when Juyeon surprises himself with the question that noisily cuts out of his throat.

“Why don’t you break up with him?” he asks.

He expects you to go mad at the question– you were known to have quite the fierce temper. You and Andre have had a few problems in the past: he was known to be reckless with his snarky comments that somehow hurt your pride, his nasty behavior when he got drunk, and the not-so-happy opinion your parents had of him. You were known to blow things out of proportion, screaming, crying and making a scene whenever you could if you thought it was appropriate, known to talk about your conflicts with your friends and digging out opinions out of them on the matter.

Juyeon always made sure to give you lukewarm arguments whenever you asked him about your boyfriend. Never too heated to make himself seem suspicious. Your relationship was none of his business.

Again– tonight, though, he has nothing to lose.

“I dunno,” you shrug, your steps a little uneven on the pavement, “it’s… a matter of habit, maybe? It’s weird,” you say. 

The explanation gives Juyeon just about nothing. A matter of habit? Is it a habit to stay with someone? Was there not more needed for a relationship?

Juyeon doesn’t find it in him to reply. Instead, he lets you talk.

“I think I might love him, or something. I’m not really sure…” you mumble, the sentences breaking Juyeon’s heart a little by little, shattering it right in front of you on the pavement, “because if I didn’t, why else would I put up with all of this?” you ask, not really expecting an answer.

“All the shaming, the spiteful remarks. The pettiness, the silent treatment… tell me, Juyo, do I have any dignity?” you laugh, shaking your head in disbelief.

“Y/N…”

The snicker that escapes out of you quickly turns bitter. Your body grows impossibly closer to his, your hands sneaking around his bicep. You walk with linked arms, your head falling to his shoulder. “I don’t think I really love him, though,” you suddenly rebuttal, “‘cause like… I wouldn’t- I wouldn’t tell my grandkids about Andre, y’know? I think that’s the way you know. If you can imagine thinking so fondly about someone that you… that you’d mention them even in 50 years, ‘cause the memories still feel fresh and you’re delighted you once knew them, then…” you trail off, voice fading.

“Do you know what I mean?” you hum, pouting.

He does know.

“Sorry, I’m rambling–”

“No, I get you,” he reassures you, nodding to himself. 

“You always do,” you sigh, breaking Juyeon’s heart into a million pieces, “anyways, with that being said… I think I’m with him only because breaking up is too much of a hassle. And, I think I like the attention,” you splutter, laughing at yourself, “that’s… so desperate of me, I know. I’m starting to doubt if it’s even worth it.”

“He’s not,” Juyeon finds himself saying as you two cross the corner.

“You’re only saying that as my friend.”

“No, I’m saying that as your– as someone who cares…?” he stutters, mentally kicking himself for sounding so readable. Surely, you must’ve already noticed. If not from his current statement, then from the way he looked at you the whole night. You are a smart girl– you were always quick to point out the men that would soon hit on you when you were at the club. You have a good eye when it comes to others.

You only laugh, though. Oh, how Juyeon loves the sound.

“Thank you,” you hum.

You two fall silent for a while. Juyeon finds himself enjoying it. It feels comfortable– to walk with you through the emptied Paris, accompanied by the yellow lampposts and soulless streets. Only you two, your linked arms and his suit jacket around your shoulders.

“We’re at Dorothy’s,” you muse when your steps come to a halt, gesturing towards the silent, dark house on the other side of the street, “I think she’s not home yet, though. Her light would be on.”

Chewing on the inside of his cheek, Juyeon looks from the house and back at you, then back at the seemingly empty house again. “And now what?”

“I have to wait for her,” you shrug, “will you… keep me company?”

You don’t even have to ask. He’d always keep you company. 

“Well, I’m not just gonna let you stand alone in the street in the middle of the night, am I?” he playfully shakes his head in disbelief, but secretly enjoys the fact that he has more time with you before you have to pay each other goodbye.

“Always knew you were a gentleman.”

“Pretty sure that was my middle name,” he notes.

“I thought you said that was ‘handsome’ once?”

“I have two,” he laughs.

“Is that possible?” you tease.

“Of course! Look it up,” he says, turning to you as he talks. “My name’s actually Lee Handsome Gentleman Juyeon, it’s on my ID and everything,” he jokes, watching as your eyes turn into moon crescents and your throat lets out a fit of amused giggles.

Another playful punch to his shoulder. A happy sigh. A shake of your head, full of disbelief. 

“Damn, Juyo. I’ll miss you like crazy, you know?” you suddenly utter, making the boy’s heart fall down into his stomach. The implication of your words sounds a lot like a goodbye, and although he was aware of the fact that he was leaving before, he doesn’t think he really let the reality down on him until now. 

This time tomorrow, there will be no Paris. No Marco. No Shotaro. No Bence. No French locals, no bagels for breakfast, no shitty ass dorm room.

No you.

“I’ll miss you more,” he says. He thinks he’s right.

You’ll miss him like a friend. He’ll miss you like his first love.

You stare at him for a heartbeat. One, two– before you latch onto him, much like when you first met tonight. Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him close, head resting on his shoulder only when you notice his hands wrapping around your middle. Breathing in your scent, Juyeon focuses very hard to keep his heart rate in check– it’s hard to not falter under your touch when your nose buries itself into his neck, cold skin nuzzling into his hot one, hands squeezing him tighter.

Juyeon doesn’t think you’ve ever hugged him like this before. 

And now, you won’t ever again.

You break away from him only enough to still be in his hold, your forehead resting against his. The new intimacy between the two of you makes him gulp, eyes focused into yours– watching the silver and gold swirl around your irises, counting your eyelashes. Noticing the faint mole on the top of your nose bridge. 

Foolishly letting his eyes dip lower. Memorizing the shape of your lips with his gaze. Taking in a shaky breath when he feels your fingers playing with the hair on his nape.

“Will you tell your grandkids about Paris?” you ask, voice barely louder than a whisper. Juyeon would almost think you’re suggesting something with your question, but when you speak up again, the suspicion is proved correct. “Will you tell them about me?”

The boy drags his eyes up back to yours. He examines the intention. He finalizes that he has nothing left to lose. 

Tomorrow, this will all be a memory. A moment out of his reach– much like you, all this time. A moment of time he experienced and won’t ever get back.

“I will,” he nods, swallowing. “Will you?”

You smile at the boy, the curve of your lips capturing his attention again. If anyone asked, he’d tell them it’s pure biology– the way his eyes zoomed in on your mouth the moment your expression changed. That’s how attention fluctuates– he learned about it in class somewhere, he’s fairly certain.

Why he’s unable to look back into your eyes after the question is a matter of something else, though.

“I think I might,” you breathe out.

There’s buzzing in his fingertips as he relishes the moment. The sentiment makes his knees weak, his brain fuzzy, his sight blurry and a little hazed. When he finally catches a glimpse of your gaze, he finds it glued to his mouth. 

He could take it as an invitation. 

He won’t, though.

“Kiss me?” you ask, whispering.

He shakes his head in disapproval. “I can’t.” 

Not when you’re taken. Not when he’s aware. Not when he knows you might regret this in the morning.

“Can I kiss you, then?” you ask. 

That, however, is a whole other situation. 

You asked to. You're making the first step. He doesn't have to feel guilty– who cares whether either of you might regret this decision tomorrow.

A simple nod–

that’s all it takes before you lock your lips with his. Your mouths move against each other with a passion he’s contained for his whole stay. You taste like vodka and orange juice, the slickness of your lip gloss making Juyeon’s lips slide against yours with more ease. He kisses you like you’d kiss your first love– with everything in him, with everything he is. 

He kisses you in a way that shows he wants to remember this forever. In a way that makes you lean even closer, pressing up firmly against him as you angle your head to make the kiss deeper. One of your hands moves from behind his head to twist itself deeper into his hair, tugging a little at the root to make the boy gasp under your actions. That has you inviting your tongue into his mouth, eager to taste him, to explore.

Juyeon doesn’t think he’s ever been kissed like this. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt so vulnerable, so open while kissing someone. This is him with his heart on a plate, naked and ready to be stabbed, squished by the weight of circumstances breathing onto his back.

His cold fingers move along your sides. Your hands settle on his shoulders to steady yourself, head pulling away to gasp for oxygen.

You look so pretty when he opens his eyes. Lipstick smudged and eyes blown out, hair a little messy from the October wind. He’s like an addict presented with his favorite drug– he can’t get enough, he can’t resist as he chases after you, leaving kisses along your jaw and the corner of your mouth, where the blood is, slowly meeting your lips again in another lock.

Everything else disappears. In this moment, there’s just you, you, you…

No flights. No weight of his own conscience. No boyfriends, no unsaid feelings. 

No regret.

And Juyeon thought he had nothing to lose, but suddenly, with you in his arms, he feels as if he’s being stripped of everything he never even had, only got the glimpse of last minute, a few hours before he’s gone.

You lean away again. Juyeon watches you with big eyes. A smile appears on your face as you move a finger up to his face, cleaning up the side of his mouth off the dark lipstick you’ve imprinted on him. He feels fragile under your touch. One bad move and he breaks, falls apart under you.

“You have to come back to visit one day,” you whisper, cradling the side of his face.

Juyeon nods. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever get the chance.

But as you stand on your tippy toes and press a kiss to his forehead, making a million different fireworks erupt in his stomach, he doesn’t let himself think of that (im)possibility. He watches as you smile at him, locking your eyes in a gaze tender and soft, yet electrifying, holding something special.

Before you take off to meet your best friend walking up the other side of the street, you hug him one last time and whisper into his ear.

“Goodbye, Juyo.”

Seeing as you lock your arms with Dorothy, walking up into the silent house and never looking back, Juyeon lets himself feel the last hint of longing for someone he always knew would never be his. And it’s strange, because he hasn’t even left yet, 

but oh, how he’d love to go to Paris again.

[weirdmorefics]

So Very Basic- Spencer Reid X Reader

A/N- This may have just been an excuse for me to infodump about Pride and Prejudice but I swear the fic is still good! Reader is also very Autistic coded but I am Autistic so that happens a lot when I write hope you don't mind.

Pronouns- She/her

Tooth-Rooting Fluff

Word Count- 822

Summary- Spencer judging your book tastes on the jet back home.

Spencer and I have made it a habit of sitting next to each other every flight home. We usually talk about the recent books we have finished or are currently reading. Sometimes we just sit in silence and read together. These are my favorite moments in my life I never feel calmer in the jet with Spencer by my side or across from me. This time it felt different though Spencer's eyes have not left me once I swear he hadn't flipped a page of his book.

"Hey Spence, What's your book about?" I say trying to hint at the fact that I can obviously see he has not flipped a single page.

He seemed startled by my sudden question but proceeded to tell me the entire synopsis of his book.

I slam my book shut and shout, "You have read that book already!"

He seemed perplexed by my reaction "There is no rule against rereading books I think authors would prefer you reread their works."

I groan, "There is when you spend the whole flight staring at me distracting me from my book."

Spencer flushes and I am one hundred percent sure I am right now.

"Hotch the children are fighting again!" Rossi shouts like a mother making me shake my head at him.

"Hotch Spence is poking meee," Emily teases in her best Y/N impersonation. JJ of course joins in playing the role of Spencer, "I am not Y/n." She draws out my name.

Spencer and I look as red as two tomatoes and my safe space has turned into an inescapable nightmare.

He leans in and whispers in my ear, "You know this is your fault for picking the most basic Jane Austen novel."

I gasp dramatically which of course just causes more stares from the team.

Derek sighed knowing this Y/n gasp all too well, "Pretty boy what are you doing offending Y/n? Do you want to listen to another one of her defensive rants for thirty minutes?"

"I quite enjoy them," Spencer smiles.

Rossi rolls his eyes, "You would."

I stand up, "Pride and Prejudice is beautiful from its book, it's movie, and it's BBC Special!"

JJ sighs," Here she goes."

"The drama in the book is spectacular as it delves into each sister's feelings about marriage and how at the time it was their only option. Don't even get me started on the twenty-seven with no prospects speech! Oh my goodness Darcy is the perfect match for Elizabeth with them both being so headstrong makes for the best enemies to lovers! Speaking of Darcy in the film when he does that hand-clench thing it was not even in the book! It wasn't even scripted! Which made me feel he was the perfect actor for Darcy he understood the role perfectly!" I ramble out putting my hand on my chest the rest of the team is annoyed at another one of my outbursts but Spencer is looking at me like I am the only person on the plane and I flush when I meet his eyes.

Hotch shouts at me, "L/N would you sit down we are about to go into a patch of turbulence." He of course says this too late and I embarrassingly fall on top of Spencer.

I immediately try to scramble off Spencer but he holds me there. I look away from him trying to hide my flushed face and he asks if I am alright.

"Yup, just mortified but everybody needs a good daily dose of that am I right." I smile trying to play it off but I play with my hair a common tell of mine that everyone in the BAU knows by now.

"You know I have never seen the Pride and Prejudice film," Spencer says slyly.

My eyes light up "You must see it! It's on Netflix I have seen it over a hundred times! I can probably quote all the words by now."

"I actually don't have Netflix I don't really watch television," He rubs the back of his neck.

"That's fine I could totally bring my laptop to you to watch it! Or we could watch it at my apartment!" I ramble out coming off more excited than I meant to.

"That sounds great," Spencer smiles, "Do you really know all the words you could recite some now?" He teases.

I turn the deepest red I think I have ever been in my life and of course, Derek has to jump in.

"Oh pretty boy has moves," he whistles.

Spence rolls his eyes "Shut up Morgan."

"Could we all shut up? Some of us like to rest so we can actually focus on work when we get back." Hotch says in his typical annoyed-with-us voice.

"I guess reciting Pride and Prejudice to you will have to wait," I whisper into Spencer's ear it was finally my time to make him blush.

[jdbellingham]

The Deal (Part One - “I’ve never seen you look so sexy”)

a 10 Things I Hate About You inspired series featuring Jude Bellingham

pairing: jude bellingham(patrick verona) x reader(kat stratford)

summary: a new student arrives at Birmingham City Football Club Academy (BCFCA), Cameron Thomas, who sets his sights on y/n’s sister Caroline. unfortunately for him, Caroline cannot date until her so called “heinous bitch” of sister does. he sets out to do everything he can in order for that to happen, even if that means convincing the academy’s most well known player—Jude Bellingham.

note: here it is as promised. I hope this isn’t too boring

word count: 3k

warnings: sexual jokes (I don’t remember what I wrote), underwhelming lol

“How you doing?” Eric greeted as he approached Jude, who was sweating profusely from the practice he had just left.

Jude stared blankly at him, then turned to his teammates, giving them a look that said “Why the hell is he talking to me.”

Eric, used to being treated like the popular boy he was, felt slightly taken aback by the cold shoulder treatment; yet he managed to continue.

“I just bought a new lighter,” Eric said, trying to start a conversation while also taking a dig at the fact Jude was known for lighting the lawn of a school he had lost a match to in year 10.

“Do I know you?” Jude asked, bringing his water bottle to his lips and taking a long sip.

Eric stopped beating around the bush and began explaining, “You see that girl over there?”

Jude put down his bottle and looked over to where Eric was pointing before responding with a “Yeah,” his voice laden with indifference.

“That’s Y/n L/n,” Eric explained, and Jude gave him a look.

“She’s on my team you idiot,” Jude told him, Eric’s face immediately reddening.

“Right, sorry I forgot she was on Birmingham FC’s EFL team,” Eric reached for the back of his neck before he continued, “I want you to go out with her,”

Jude laughed, incredulous of how a boy he didn’t even know could walk up to him and order him around like that. He pondered for a moment if he should simply walk away and leave the conversation behind, but some small part of him was intrigued by what Eric had to say.

“Yeah, sure,” Jude responded sarcastically, shaking his head while his teammates howled with laughter.

“Look, I can’t take out her sister until Y/n starts dating,” Eric added, “You see, their dad is whacked out, he’s got this rule where his girls-

“That’s a touching story, really is. But it’s not my problem,” Jude cut him off before he could go into more detail, and began packing up his kit.

Nonetheless, Eric remained confident, “Would you be willing to make it your problem if I offered you some generous compensation?”

Jude paused, his eyes shifting back to Eric before he scoffed.

“You’re going to pay me to go out with some bird?” Jude raised his brows, before taking off his practice jersey and slinging it around his neck.

Eric hummed in agreement then Jude chuckled, his head dropping down to face the ground as he stuck his tongue into the side of the cheek.

Jude looked up again before asking “How much?”

He knew he didn’t need the money but what harm could it do? It wasn’t as if Y/n would actually let him take her on a date.

“20 euros,” Eric responded, and Jude scrunched his brows. That wasn’t worth his while.

“No shot,” Jude frowned, “That doesn’t even cover the cost of taking her to the movies,”

“Fine, 30,” Eric countered, crossing his arms.

“75, take it or leave it,” Jude’s voice flattened, he wasn’t going to waste his time doing this if it was for nothing.

“50,” Eric pushed, growing annoyed.

“100,” Jude countered, staring directly into his eyes.

“75,” Eric groaned, exasperation seeping into his voice, handing over the bills.

“Okay, deal,” Jude looked away from Eric and over to where Y/n was practicing her corner goals. She started from the lower left corner of the pitch and her foot lifted to the bottom of the ball, hitting it at the perfect angle and sending it smoothly into the upper right corner of the goal. He had always known that Y/n was good but he never said anything to her, knowing anything he said wouldn’t matter. They worked together smoothly without the unnecessary communication and chit chat, mutually understanding each other's style of play. They became nearly untouchable when put on the pitch together, Jude set her up for goals, getting the ball to her when he could, and Y/n would indefinitely score. And when Y/n was midfielder and Jude was center forward, they would still do the same thing, their roles simply switched. Jude wondered if their bond while playing would be affected by this stupid deal, but he had already started towards her so he wasn’t going to back out now.

“Hi there,” Jude greeted, and Y/n looked him up and down. Her eyes lingered a split second longer on his bare abdomen, which didn’t go unnoticed.

“Move,” She ordered, looking away and focusing on the ball. Y/n took a moment to consider the alternate path of sending it into Jude’s crotch just for kicks, but decided against it, remembering the consequences of the last time she’d aimed for a males privates.

“What are you doing?” Jude asked, despite the fact he already knew.

Y/n didn’t respond, instead opting to make another corner kick.

“You already know that, what do you want,” She crossed her arms as the ball swished into the net of the goal.

“That’s certainly a way to get a guys attention,” Jude ignored her previous statement, his eyes focused on the ball she had once again managed to kick into the goal.

“Ah yes, my mission in life. Getting the attention of males,” Y/n agreed, before continuing, “And obviously it worked, seeing as you’re here,”

“The world makes sense again,” She plastered on a phony smile, walking over to get the ball. Jude laughing behind her as he followed, staying within her proximity as she went back to the bleachers to her kit.

“Pick you up on Friday then?” Jude asked, and Y/n responded without missing a beat.

“Oh right, Friday, uhuh,” She nodded, downing a gulp of water before she reached down to the hem of her jersey, pulling it above her head to reveal her sports bra which was damp with sweat. In her mind she wished she had just kicked the ball into Jude’s.

“I’ll take you places you’ve never seen before,” Jude’s brows went up and down and he stared at her back as she bent over to unlace her shoes. He was beginning to enjoy the banter, it was a nice change of pace from the silence broken by an occasional “nice”, “you did well”, or “good job” they usually shared.

“Oh? Like the theatre 4 miles away on Grant?” Y/n asked, unimpressed. She stood straight again, pulling off the light blue pre-wrap on her forehead.

“Do you even know what number I am?” Y/n questioned, eyeing Jude when she put her jersey into her kit.

“12,” Jude answered easily, “I know a lot more than you think,”

“Doubtful, very doubtful,” Y/n laughed, picking up her bag and walking away. For some strange reason, the refusal left Jude only more encouraged.

From a discreet spot in the bleachers, Cameron and Marcus watched the exchange and groaned.

“We are screwed,” Cameron whined, his hopes of dating Caroline felt like they’d be dashed.

“Hey I don’t want to hear that defeatist attitude,” Marcus demanded.

“We are screwed!” Cameron exclaimed, and Marcus nodded in approval.

“Better,”

Cameron had gone through the effort of becoming the practice partner of Caroline, Y/n’s sister, and talked to her only to find out that she could only date if Y/n did. Then he had managed to get the academy’s most affluent player to approach Jude (more like inceptioned him to), knowing he wouldn’t listen to Cameron himself—only for Jude to fail. If this didn’t work he had no other options left.

“If Jude can’t do this himself we need to help him,” Cameron finally spoke, looking to Marcus who hummed in agreement.

Cameron knew that Y/n was difficult, when he had spoken to Caroline she had explained that Y/n used to be popular, but at the end of year 11 something had flipped. It was like she was sick of it or something, and she began dedicating all her time to football. It paid off, she was one of the best strikers in the league, the men’s league she had somehow gotten into. She was so good that Birmingham Academy decided to put her on their EFL team, but of course it came with the price of her becoming a heinous bitch (Marcus’s words not Cameron’s).

˚ ✧ ˚

The next day Jude found Y/n on the football pitch during the free period they happened to share, and sat by her school bag watching as she did passing drills around a set of bright orange cones.

It was normal to see her at the pitch during the middle of the day, she was known for practicing every possible moment.

When she finally finished up and went to grab her water, she saw him staring at her.

“Nice passes,” Jude complimented before she could let out the string of complaints she probably had waiting to be let out. “You’re quick on your feet,”

“Are you following me?” Y/n scoffed, grabbing her water that was situated next to Jude.

“I was going to get my jacket, and saw you were practicing. I decided to come say hi,” Jude shrugged, feigning disinterest.

“Hi,” Y/n replied, obviously glaring at Jude.

“Not a talker, huh?” Jude remarked watching as Y/n began changing. She didn’t quite care that he was there, letting him watch as she switched her athletic shirt for a tank top. However he averted his gaze when Y/n switched her soccer shorts for denim ones.

“Depends on the topic,” She replied, “Passing drills don’t exactly whip me into a verbal frenzy,”

“You’re not afraid of me are you,” Jude said, half a question half a statement.

“Why would I be afraid of you,” Y/n laughed, folding her clothes and putting them into her bag.

“According to popular belief, I lit a school on fire because I was a sore loser. So most people are,” Jude replied, standing up.

“Well I’m not,” Y/n responded, slinging the bag over her shoulders. She noticed how Jude had purposefully shifted to block her from exiting the field.

“Well maybe you’re not afraid me but I’m sure you’ve thought about me naked,” Jude suggested smiling coyly.

“Am I that transparent?” Y/n asked, acting shocked. “I want you, I need you, oh baby, oh baby,” She groaned while rolling her eyes, and Jude found his smile growing wider, his laugh genuine.

Y/n pushed past him and out of the football pitch, and Jude let her. He stared as she walked away, realizing that he had grown a liking to her. When she was finally out of sight he shook his head, wondering how on earth he had managed to start fancying the most out of control girl he had ever met.

˚ ✧ ˚

“We know what you’re trying to do with Y/n L/n,” Cameron said over the loud commotion of the craft room, Marcus nudging him forward.

“Yeah? What are you going to do about it?” Jude replied unfazed, continuing to saw away at a piece of wood.

“We want to help,” Cameron replied, and Jude’s eyes didn’t budge from the wood.

“And why is that?” Jude inquired, finally giving the pair a glance.

“The deal is that my friend here has a major jones for Caroline L/n,” Marcus paused, waiting for Jude to say something.

“What is it with that girl?” Jude muttered, it seemed as if everyone wanted a piece of her.

“I uh, I think I speak correctly when I say Cameron’s love is pure, purer than let’s say Eric’s,” Marcus continued, to which Jude answered.

“Look I’m in this for the cash, Eric can plow whoever he wants,”

“Okay there will be no plowing,” Cameron interjected, getting heated. Jude sniggered under his breath at the year 12 boy.

“Jude, let me clear one thing up—we set this whole thing up so Cameron, yeah Cameron, could get Caroline. Eric’s just a pawn,” Marcus elaborated.

“So you’re going to help me tame the wild beast?” Jude quirked a brow, and glanced over at the duo again.

“Absolutely. We’ll do research, find out what she likes and get back to you. We’re your guys,” Marcus smiled, grabbing Cameron’s shoulder who added:

“In a strictly non group of arsonist buddies type of way,”

Jude stared at Cameron, not sure whether to laugh or punch him.

“Uh, sorry. Now, Friday night Bogey Lowenstein is having a party. Perfect opportunity,” Marcus shifted the conversation before Jude could react.

“Perfect opportunity for what?” Jude asked, his full attention now on Marcus.

“For you to take out Y/n,” Marcus gave a doubtful look.

“I’ll think about it,” Jude replied, though he had already made up his mind.

˚ ✧ ˚

Marcus and Cameron arrived at the locker room Jude had told them too, Cameron having just snooped through Y/n’s dorm with the help of Caroline.

Jude arrived shortly thereafter, out of breath from running there after his practice ended.

“So what have you got for me?” Jude asked, his hands at his sides, chest going up and down as he panted.

“A little insight into a very complicated girl,” Cameron replied, crossing his arms and leaning into a locker.

“All right, first thing. Y/n hates chapped lips,” Cameron cleared his throat, looking at Jude’s lips which were thoroughly dry.

“So you’re telling me I use chapstick,” Jude raised his brows, subconsciously licking his lips.

“Yes, well—just for now,” Marcus explained.

“And um, here’s another problem, Caroline says Y/n likes pretty guys,” Cameron added, looking from Marcus back to Jude.

Jude stared blankly at the two for a few moments before saying “Are you telling me I’m not a pretty guy?”

“He’s very pretty!” Marcus immediately countered, and Cameron followed with a “Yeah yeah I just wasn’t sure—I didn’t know,” the pair of them playing it off.

Jude visibly relaxed, and Cameron took it as a sign for him to continue. “Alright, uh yeah, okay here’s this,” Cameron reached into his back pocket and pulled out a list.

“Likes: Thai food, feminist prose, and angry girl music of the indie rock persuasion. Here’s a list of CDs she has in her dorm,” Cameron handed the list over.

“So I’m supposed to buy her some noodles and a book and sit around listening to girls who can’t play their instruments right?” Jude remarked sardonically.

“Have you ever been to Club Skunk? Her favorite band is playing there tomorrow night,” Marcus answered, and Jude’s face paled.

“I cannot be caught at Club Skunk, alright?” Jude pursed his lips into a thin line.

“But she’ll be there, she’s got tickets,” Cameron pushed back.

“Assail your ears for one night,” Marcus joined in, and Jude caved.

Dear lord what had he gotten himself into.

˚ ✧ ˚

Jude arrived at Club Skunk, not quite believing that he was spending his evening at a club full of girls. He pushed his way through the crowd, the music growing louder the further he got into the club.

Eventually he spotted Y/n, who was dancing in a black spaghetti strapped satin dress. He smiled at the sight, and stared as Y/n began laughing with a friend.

He found himself fixated on her, this was a side of Y/n he had never once seen revealed before. And he liked it.

His dark doe eyes filled with adoration as Y/n smiled brightly and cheered when the song changed, before he came to his senses and went to the bar, knowing she would eventually come there.

“Bellingham! What are you doing here tonight?” Huxley, the bartender, greeted. He knew Jude and his mates from his days at the local pub.

“Oh you know, just here for the girl,” Bellingham grinned, then asked for water.

A good few minutes later, Y/n came up to the bar, asking Huxley for 2 waters. As she stood there waiting she glanced to the side, noticing Jude sitting at a stool, inconspicuously staring at the band on stage.

She immediately frowned, and after paying for the drinks she approached him.

“If you’re planning on asking me out again you might as well get it over with,” She said loudly, barely audible over the noise of the club.

“Do you mind? You’re kind of ruining this for me,” Jude said right as she finished talking, and Y/n raised her eyebrows in disbelief.

“Your lips aren’t as chapped as they usually are,” Y/n noticed, changing the subject.

“I know, I started using chapstick, it was about time I got a tube,” Jude replied, continuing to act nonchalant when he knew he was an imposter in this club.

“You think?” Y/n laughed, her eyes focused on Jude’s mouth.

“You know these guys are no Bikini Kill or the Raincoats,” Jude remarked, bringing up other musicians he knew Y/n liked, adding “But they’re not bad,” before he stood up and started walking away.

Y/n’s smile stuck to her face, but it was a puzzled one, she stood fixated to her spot for a second before she ran to catch up to Jude.

“You know who the Raincoats are?” She demanded, her eyes squinted in puzzlement.

“Why, don’t you?” Jude shot back, pretending as if it was the most obvious thing in the world for him to know who they were.

A series of fed up expressions crossed Y/n’s face, and Jude proceeded to keep talking as the song currently played ended.

“You know I was watching you out there,” Jude commented, his voice straining to be heard over the music, “I’ve never seen you look so sexy,” The second part came out just as the song finished, and the whole club heard and began laughing.

Y/n let out a chuckle, beaming at Jude. Jude’s head leaned low, and for a moment it seemed like he was about to kiss her before he pulled his head a bit back.

“Come to Bogey’s party with me,” Jude suggested, and Y/n moved her head from side to side.

“You never give up, do you?”

“Was that a yes?” Jude asked, voice loud again as a new band started playing.

“No,” Y/n shouted, walking away.

“Was that a no?” Jude yelled after her, keeping his gaze focused on her as she disappeared into the crowd.

“No!” Y/n replied, and Jude’s lips pulled upward into the largest smile he’d ever had.

SEND ME REQUESTS PLEASE!! I’ll write for Jude and Neymar (Jude preferred tbh 🤭) and if it’s another player, message me and if I have enough slots I’ll write a fic just for you 😁

note: I am so sorry that took so long to come out, I wrote like 5 different variations of this and this was the best and it’s still underwhelming so I’m super sorry. part two will be written if people actually want it

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click here to be added to my taglist!!

I’m so sorry if you see your name on the taglist but weren’t tagged, it says your blog doesn’t exist but it’s probably because you have a private blog i don’t follow so I’m not allowed to tag!

[wosowrites]

Leah Williamson x Reader (Stop the Teasing but Don’t Stop)

warnings: flirting, slight s3xu@l teasing

prompt: in which Leah is completely head over heels for the reader, and the reader knows but chooses not to say anything to keep teasing Leah.

a/n: based off this brilliant request here and then another one that suggested writing it from Leah’s POV

I had loved y/n y/l/n since I was 24. But she had always been perfect, and beautiful… and it took me a couple years to grow into my own skin. From the second we joined the Arsenal academy, we were best friends. Then we made our debut for the first team on the same day, together, and then england… and then I realized I was in love with her.

But it felt like it was too late. She had dated a couple footballers before. A couple being Ona Batlle and then briefly Jill Roord. I felt as though she still saw me as being the same, weird haired, crooked smiled girl I was when we first met.

And that’s all I could think about while sitting in Alexs kitchen.

"I mean- I like the way she talks. And I like the way she ties her shoes super slowly to make sure the bows are centered and perfect. And when she’s tired she gets so mad but all you have to do to replace the anger with softness if feed her. I like everything about her, Alex and she just doesn’t care," I said to Alex Scott, my head resting on my elbow as I drank a gin and tonic in her apartment.

"I don’t know why you don’t tell her directly. It’s kind of a her problem she doesn’t know because you make it obvious," Alex said, taking a sip of her own drink. "I clearly don’t. She would say something if she did know," I sighed. "Leah, maybe she’s just scared. Y/n is… loving yes but closed off. She always looks kind of scared when it comes to any kind of confrontation. She’s soft and maybe she just wants you to make the first move," Alex said, resting her hand on my shoulder.

I wasn’t so sure.

Your POV

You sat on the couch of your own apartment alone. The rain was coming down heavy and all the lights in your apparement were off, making the room gray and dull. Depressing.

You were thinking about Leah. Thinking about how you liked to tease her, and how you knew she liked you but just couldn’t bring yourself to act on it. Your brain was full of what ifs. What if she was just teasing you as well? What if she didn’t actually like you? What if you said something and the whole team dynamic was off?

Leah’s POV

The next morning I got up, got dressed, ate a little bit and then left for training. I had crashed at Alex’s apartment but that happened so often i had spare everything over there. Pulling into the Arsenal training facility, I noticed y/n’s car parked. And then I saw her walk out. Her long hair we’re in two loose braids as she always tied her hair later on. She wore Arsenal sweatpants and an Arsenal tee shirt as well as white running shoes. She looked perfect.

I got out of my car and locked it before jogging towards her. "You look good y/l/n," I said, winking at her slightly. She didn’t blush. She never blushed. Instead she smiled and looked up at me a little. "Thank you. You don’t look bad yourself," she answered.

And then she checked me out. I knew it was teasing, but could it possibly be something else? Maybe it wasn’t. Maybe she actually-

But my thoughts were cut off when her eyes wandered up my arms and then back to my lips before looking forward again.

I thought I might pass out. She was so, so beautiful.

Weeks went on. Weeks where loving her started to become less fun and more painful. But that pain only surfaced when I was alone. When I was with her, things felt right and good.

She pushed me over the edge during a team dinner at a fancy restaurant. I hated every option on the menu but I ended up ordering some weird sun fried tomato pasta, knowing y/n would probably eat it.

I saved a spot for her beside me, but she was running late. She came in ten minutes after the original meeting time. That was the first time she made me dizzy that night.

Her natural hair was loose and fell down her back, looking amazing and she was wearing black dress pants with a black vest type of top. She had pearls on her neck and ears and when she sat down I noticed she had a purse which matched. "Thank you for your arrival Miss y/n," Kim joked, making her roll your eyes. "Sorry sorry I had to pick something up at the store. You guys clearly didn’t check the menu before coming here. Leah isn’t going to eat any of this," she said before rummaging in your purse and pulling out a ham sandwich from Tesco. "I’ll give it to you when the rest of the food arrives?" y/n said, looking into my eyes.

I wanted to kiss her then and there. And for whatever reason I told her that. "I could kiss you right now," I told her, and I saw some of the girls roll their eyes in the corner of mine. "Well not here Williamson," she winked.

She then struck up conversation with Beth and Viv, and I was left staring into space.

She ordered some fancy thing I couldn’t pronounce and when it came she went to grab the sandwich for me from her bag. But she couldn’t do it without teasing me. She laid her hand on my thigh, almost under my dress and then leaned down to get the food from her bag, grabbing it with her right hand. She sat back up, her hand still very much there, and maybe even a little under the hem of my dress. "Here," she smiled, sending me a wink.

My breathing was heavy and I know she knew that. My thighs were closer together than ever but right when I thought her hand would be there the whole supper, she moved it.

I think I might have seen stars.

Your POV

What was I doing?

I loved teasing her. I loved the feeling of victory I got when she so clearly was affected by the smallest touch, the little glance and the most insignificant action. It made my heart full, it made me feel like a winner. The only problem was that maybe I hadn’t stopped to think what it did to her.

But she told me herself later that night.

I said goodnight to the girls and then got into my car, purposely avoiding Leah. Driving a little over the speed limit, I rushed to my apartment and then into my bedroom. I let myself fall down onto the bed, sinking into the foam mattress.

My brain wandered with thoughts of Leah, images of my hand on her legs. But I snapped myself out of it to change into sweatpants and a sports bra. I needed to get her out of my head.

And then a knock echoed through my apartment and I knew who it was instantly.

Leah’s POV

I knew I had to say something to her when she left the restaurant without saying good bye to me.

"What the fuck is her problem?" I breathed out, complaining to Katie. "I mean she basically had her hand under my dress and now she leaves without saying anything to me?" I said. "Ew. Wait at the dinner table? Really? Gross," Katie groaned. "Not the point! It’s weird right?" I sighed, walking in the direction of our parked cars. "Yeah. I'd say," Katie answered.

"I’m gonna talk to her," I decided.

And that was that.

Suddenly I was standing at the door of the apartment of the girl I was head over heels for. My fist hovered over the surface before finally knocking rhythmically. It took a second for her to answer, but I could tell by the look in her eyes that she knew I was going to be the one at her door. "Lee..." she said, using the nickname my teammates called me but she never used. "You need to stop," I started saying, pushing my way past her and into the middle of her apartment. "You need to stop leading me on. Stop checking me out and the ignoring me, stop... touching me and then not saying goodbye. It's confusing and it hurts," I said, tears falling down my cheeks.

I was still wearing my short black cocktail dress, looking extremely fancy next to her. I could tell by the look in her eyes that she hadn't thought that her actions could have hurt me like this. "I'm sorry-" she said, her eyes filling with hurt. "I dont want to hurt you. I've never ever wanted to hurt you. I just- I feel like my brain cant comprehend that someone could actually like me for me. I dont need to try with you and... I mean I knew you liked me but I didn't know know." she said, clearly hoping her words made sense.

"But I do. I do like you and If you don't like me back please let me go and stop putting your hand under my dress at restaurants," I said, my chest heaving and my body shaking from the fear, pain, excitement and stress I was feeling. "Okay. But... say I did like you. Then I could keep doing it..."

There it was again. The flirting, the teasing, the words that made me turn red. But this time she looked genuine, and her body was getting closer to mine.

Before I knew it, she had grabbed a hold of my right hand in her left and her right hand was on my waist, slowly rubbing my side. "Yes. Well- not at restaurants because Katie thought it was gross but... other places," I told her, my breath catching in my throat as she came closer to me, lips only centimetres apart. "Here?" she suggested, her nose touching mine. "Yeah. Here."

And then our lips were tangled, our hands were roaming and our minds were at peace. What better world than the one where I got the confirmation that the girl I've loved for what felt like forever, loved me back.

[rinneroraito]

is it really the alcohoL?

L was going through the surveillance tapes for the nth time tonight, taking notes, labeling peculiarities in every frame.

“Let’s entertain the possibility that Light Yagami is Kira again,”  he thinks to himself as he types away on his keyboard. “He hasn’t done anything suspicious in the whole week that he had been under surveillance, only keeping up with his studies and engaging with his mother and sister. Assuming he’s only keeping up with his facade as a model student, son and brother, it could either be that he’s really good at it, or he’s entirely innocent.” 

The clacking of the keyboard fills the room as he scans the rest of the footage on multiple monitors, pausing on the scene where Light was having potato chips while studying.

“Light, you-”

A faint smell of lemon accompanied by the unmistakable sharpness of antiseptic fills the air. Flavored alcohol. L feels someone behind him and the scent of alcoholic citrus becomes more apparent.

“Miss Uehara, I can smell the alcohol from here,” L says, not looking up at you, a little displeased that you’ve managed to derail his train of thought.

“I’m off duty at the moment, aren’t I? Don’t worry, I’ll be alright in the morning, I have a regimen for this.” you reply, putting an arm on the back of the chair he was sitting on and leaning towards the back of his head. He is surprised by the contact but continues with his work as he tries to get his thoughts back in order, noting them down on his computer. They were important observations and your presence will not be a distraction for these findings to not be written down.

“You want some?”

L looks to his right side to see you offer him the can of alcohol and he silently huffs at the proposal, knowing the brand wouldn’t even be sweet enough for him to try anyways.

“No thank you, I’d like to keep a clear head while working.”

“Why are you even here, Miss Uehara?” He muses to himself. “If you’re not here tonight to help further this investigation, what business do you have? It does not make any sense for you to be here when you’re off-duty, the office hq is not the place to relax in.”

“I figured. You’re such a workaholic, Detective. Such a workaholic.”

“Your speech isn’t slurring yet so I assume you’re just buzzed. Were you pressured by the events as of late? I didn’t expect you to be the type to drink alcohol, actually.”

L replies, still mulling over the reason behind your visit as he continued to note down his observations, the clacking melody of the keyboard being the only thing making an audible sound in the electric silence of the dim office.

“Oh, you didn’t, did you? Well, it has been stressful, but I can manage. This helps.” You bring the can to your mouth, taking a long swig from it, exhaling after. “And I guess, in some way, you’re helping me, too.”

L was very much aware of the effects of alcohol and how it lowers down a person’s inhibitions significantly. The way you were approaching him right now was more daring than usual. Did you come here just to chat him up while he was working? But why? Is it the alcohol? Has the alcohol affected your judgment so much that you’ve become quite inconsiderate? You knew very well how he worked late into the night, you’ve sat through many playbacks of surveillance tapes with him yet now you’re here, and with the lack of a better phrase to describe it, wasting his time. “Would you please elaborate on that, Miss Uehara? Besides helping out with the actual Kira case and that small encouragement I gave you some time ago, I don’t suppose I’ve done anything of significant help towards you.”

You chuckled and he felt a bit of your weight on the back of his head as you leaned towards him. L shifts slightly at the contact but doesn't fuss about it, continuing with his task. He assumes that you were most likely going to leave soon anyways, your inebriation could only keep you awake for so long.

“Because you’re an inspiration to me and well, I like that you’re here, World’s Greatest Detective. It’s like, a biiiig deal to me that I get to work with you, you know?” You ramble.

“You speak rather highly of me, Miss Uehara, I’m touched, thank you.” He speaks in his usual monotone voice. There was genuine gratitude in it, but he also knew right from the start that you looked up to him quite a bit, hearing from Matsuda how you got so excited when he decided to ally with the NPA in catching Kira.

“Also, I think I actually like you, L...”

The keyboard’s clacking stops as he hears the words that escaped your mouth. Not only that, you dropped the usual honorific you called him by, likely influenced by the alcohol. 

“Like me?” His forehead knits as he rolls the thought in his head. This is new.  He knew you felt comfortable around him but… “It’s the alcohol.” L rationalizes.

He was still, and you continued to ramble on in your intoxication.

“I like the way you stare at things like you’re trying to dissect them before you, your piercing glare so intense that I feel like if you had lasers in your eyes I’d be bisected right in front of you.”

That description was pretty grim but… Why would you like that? Most people did not want him to stare at them as he seemed “eerie” and “creepy” when he did, but… You liked that?

“I like the way you daintily hold things with your thumb and forefinger, and it makes me wonder just how strong your digits are.”

More observations about his idiosyncrasies that most people just found strange. He’s never actually thought about how strong his fingers were, but now that you’ve pointed it out it made him look at his hands for a bit. And he realizes something. You were watching him really close, you were observing him. You had no aversion towards him.

He shifted slightly forwards, and you brought the arm that you had resting on the back of his chair around to rest on his shoulder. The contact surprises him again, but he stays still.

“I like the way you eat your sweets, it’s nice to see you enjoy them.”

You do?

“I like how I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic or you’re just being blunt at times, and it sends the rest of the Task Force in a state of confusion whenever you say something.”

That, too?

You chuckle, pressing your cheek on the top of his head yet he was too lost trying to make sense of what you’re rambling about that he doesn’t move.

“I like your face, the seemingly permanent shadows under your eyes, your sharp jawlines and how long your neck is, your lanky frame…”

L’s eyes just stay wide as he listens to you. The surveillance footage seems to be in freeze frame as you keep talking. Is he just supposed to believe you? That you find him… attractive?

No, wait. Wait.

“I like how you’re so smart and you know that you’re the smartest guy in the room but you give everyone the benefit of the doubt because of the way you look.”

“Miss Uehara…”

It’s the alcohol.

“I don’t know, Detective, maybe I do like you or maybe it’s the alcohol.” Hair strands fall off your shoulders caressing the nape of his neck as you lower your face on the back of his head, his hair brushing against your cheeks.

He was so distracted by your words that he almost, almost forgot that you were drunk. “Your hair smells nice.” You say, and your breath bounces off of the nape of his neck. He bends forwards, away from the warmth of your breath as the proximity makes goosebumps on his skin.

“While I am flattered by your words, Miss Uehara, I have my reservations over accepting them due to your current state. Were the things you just said truthful and you’ve been harboring feelings for me for a while or were they just a product of the mock confidence induced by alcohol?”

He knew asking you right now would be futile because you were still intoxicated, but he just had to make things clear. You have only been working together in person for no more than 2 weeks, so to rationalize this behavior of yours, he’s decided to label it as some sort of callow infatuation.

It was just the alcohol… But, was it really?

He feels you shift your weight while your face was pressed on his head.

“If I remember all of this in the morning and start acting awkward around you, then you’ll know..”

I’ll ask her again when she’s sober.

“Would you kindly stand up so I can move away, please? I’ll have Watari assist you back to your room.” Getting you back into your room where you could sleep the alcohol off  was the most rational thing to do right now, and he needed to go back to work anyways. He feels the weight lift from the back of his head as you lean away, exhaling slowly.

“Can I sleep on the couch over there? I don’t..” You sway slightly on your feet.

He turns around and looks up at you, his wide eyes illuminated by the electric lighting of the monitors. He watches you closely, curiously, a faint tenderness that seemed to plead for the things you said earlier to be genuine.

“I don’t want to be alone tonight. I just want to know that there’s someone else within the 4 walls of the room I’m in.”

There it is. The reason you came to the office. You were seeking out a companion in your solitude. To pick him was something he had to find out the reason to later, something he had to clear up in the morning. 

“Very well. I’ll have a blanket brought up here for you.” He gets out of his seat and walks around his chair to your side.

“Thanks, Detective.” You step back so you could walk to where the couch was when the rest of the alcohol suddenly hits and you stumble backwards. L, who had been perceptive of the entire situation, was able to grab you by your shoulders before you could lose even more of your balance.

That was close.

“Easy. It seems like the rest of the alcohol you drank is starting to run its course, please hold on to me and I’ll walk you to the couch.”

His grip on your shoulders was firm and secure. You lean on to him and he brings one of his arms around your back as he walks you to the couch by the other end of the room. 

L looks at you as you drop yourself onto the sofa, making it seem more comfortable than it actually was.

Your voice comes out a little ragged as he watches you pull your feet up onto the couch.

“Hey, Detective..?” 

“Yes, Miss Uehara?”

“I still have the lollipop stick from that day we met.”

“You do?” 

That’s another revelation he wasn’t expecting, his brows furrowing in curiosity. But you had already fallen asleep.

You have left L with these alcohol-induced confessions, and he was pondering over them. He’s decided to file them into the back of his head for now, waiting until the morning to ask you about it when you’re awake and sober. 

“Good night, Miss Uehara.” He says to a sleeping you before he turns around to walk back to his monitors, resuming his role as the World’s Greatest Detective.

[myimaginationplain]

I've found that when it comes to discussing who has the best claim to the iron throne and/or the Targaryen dynasty, there's often this implicit assumption that when Jon finds out about his true parentage, the knowledge will inevitably leak to the general Westerosi public. People love to theorize about whether or not the Northerners would continue to support Jon if his being Rhaegar's son came to light, or if he would be pushed as heir to the iron throne over Dany & Aegon, & I'm just like...how would any of them find out about it? Why would any of them find out about it?

I feel like some people believe that when Jon finds out about R + L = J, he'll, I dunno, send out news letters about it or something? Publicly renounce his status as Eddard Stark's son? I don't exactly understand what people think Jon would do with the information, but anything less than keeping as tight a lid on it as possible would be very out of character for Jon. Guys, we're talking about the same guy who purposefully gave a young mother the wrong baby. He's not gonna be cavalier about this.

The only people we can really be certain he'd feel the need to tell the truth to are Arya & Sansa. We know that Bran is likely to already know the truth himself by then through his greenseer tree-god bullshit; Rickon, even if he is found & taken to Winterfell by the time the other siblings reconvene (which I find highly unlikely), would probably be considered too young to trust with information like that.

Daenerys is also an extremely likely candidate for being one of the few people Jon would tell, although this is variable, as it depends on what sort of relationship you believe she & Jon will have by the time R + L = J is revealed. I for one am betting on she & Jon already being involved in some capacity by the time he finds out, thus making her one of the people he'd tell. But if you're in the camp of people who think they'll be enemies by then, he probably wouldn't tell her in that scenario.

Sam is furthest down on the very short list of people Jon would probably tell. I think it's likely, seeing how much he trusts Sam & leans on him for support. But still, it's not a sure thing.

So, including Howland Reed (who has successfully kept the secret for ~17 years now), that makes just 6-7 people who would be privy to Jon's parentage. None of whom would have much motivation to go screaming about it from the hilltops in any scenario where they're still behaving like themselves. (If any of you bring up show!Sansa here, then I'm gonna beat you with a hammer. Don't be a hypocrite; if you can acknowledge & accept that literally every other character was wildly ooc in Season 8, then do the same with Sansa. Betraying Jon's trust after swearing not to before a heart tree is just as ooc for book!Sansa as purposefully burning Kings' Landing to ash would be for book!Daenerys.)

Even in the event that Jon rides a dragon, I think that can easily be explained away by lying about Jon's mother. "Oh, why can I ride a dragon? Not many people know this, but my mother was actually a Lyseni whore. You know they have some Valyrian blood in them. She died in childbirth, though, which is why my lord father took me in." Who's gonna call his bluff on that? Ned's resolute silence on Jon's mother would absolutely work in his favor. The historical precident set by Nettles & others like her means that Jon can 100% just say his mother was the daughter of some unknown dragonseed or something.

IMO, the real question we should be asking is, if Jon were to have children, would he ever tell them the truth?

[zwolfgames]

Yandere!various!That Time I Got Reincarnated As A Slime x gn!cat!reader

Requested: JosephCruz118

(Warnings: Forced marrige, neko reader, reincarnation.)

(3rd person POV)

Welp, there it went. The end of your life.

Just like that.

A strange way to begin, but thats what happens in the tragidy that is your life.

You were graduating, finally, after years of being a student, you could walk out of this building and live.

Well... Your classmates would. But you just so happned to get the short end of the stick.

You were simply walking down a hall, when some... pshycothic man pushed you out of the open window.

Sending you pummeling down three stories.

The last things you heard were some disgusting cracks and screams... just screams.

Embracing the sudden coldness of the world, you felt life leaving you.

'Wish I'd have landed on my feet for once in my damm life... Maybe feel loved for once...' Your last toughts echo trough your head, a thumping pain in your cracked skull.

And then it all just fades. 

Thats it, the end of Y/N L/N.

Missed by many, but never got far in life.

--------

A fresh breath of air enters your lungs.

You shock awake, laying on a warm grassy field. The green blades carresing your skin as the wind moves them. 

The sun shines brilliantly above you, almost blinding you as you flutter your (e/c) eyes open.

'What in the fuck-knuckles is this bright nonsense?' You squeeze your eyes shut once more and groan in displeasure. This was not what you wanted to see in death.

You once again open your eyes, feeling a bit light sensetive at the moment. But you hold your hand to your forehead, blocking out the suns harsh rays.

After a moment of adjusting to the new lighting, you take your hand away and look around.

Big grass field... Surrounded by forest. Huh, what a strange afterlife.

You take another breath of fresh air, crisp... crisp air. No pollution noticable.

'Yea... Now hold up a minute.' You talk to yourself in your head, standing up and looking at your hands. No blood, no rocks or dirt.

Yea, somethings wrong here.

Especially that elongated feeling in your tailbone. Weird.... thats new-

Oh my god its a tail!?

You screech in confusion and grab the fuzzy thing. Slender but long, standing to make sure you keep balance. No no no! The afterlife turned you into a cat(girl/boy/YN)! A damm furry!

Some birds hiding in the grass fly away at your noise, some almost touching the top of your head.

If you had a tail then... oh no..

Your hands quickly reach for your head. And yep, two cat ears. Actually, biologically, on your head. You even felt them twitch in your hands.

After cringing for a good two minutes you calmed down and just accepted fate. It could have been worse, you could have been a worm.

So... what to do now? You couldn't just stay on this random grass field for the rest of your afterlife...

Or maybe thats what you've been sentenced to, grassfield duty.

Were they expecting you to chomp grass like a cow? Who knows... Where are the instructions? You would like to read them.

But no instructions came... reminds you of school projects...

You sigh and begin walking... towards... well, forwards. Where does this go? Into that forest? Yes.

But what else were you supposed to do. Wait around like a dumbass. No thanks.

So there you went, walking trough the thick grass towards the even thicker forest.

Birds greeted you with chirps as you entered the foliage. Forest greens filled your vision as you stepped trough a bush. Getting little unnoticable cuts on your exposed legs.

But.. It was peacefull. Birds, insects. The noises of nature really made this place feel real. was this even the afterlife?

A vision maybe?

Or... were you reborn?

How silly would that be-

"Watch out!" Some loud shrill voice alerts you of a quickly incoming troll or something on a.. on a wolf.

You jump aside and the wolf rider passes you.

He brings the wolf to a stop and hops off, walking back towards you. Ah, not a troll, this looks like a goblin, if you can trust those movies you've seen.

"Hey?" You wave awkardly. The shorter goblin smiles brightly with his two tusk like teeth.

"Hey! I haven't seen you before! Are you an adventurer?" The goblin asks exitdely. 

"Not.. really. i'm a bit lost. Where is this?" You ask, it feels as if your voice has barely seen use. As if its all new. As if this body is new.

Maybe it is.

"You don't know where you are? Well, you're in the Jura forest right now. I'm from Rimuru City, I can take you there, maybe you'll be able to orient from there?" The little goblin offers you with a friendly smile.

You nod, not that cautious as you should have been were this your old life. YOLO, am i right?

The goblin helps you onto his giant wolf and you hold on, like asked. The big canine speeds off trough the forest and you feel alive for once, wind in your face, cutting against your face like sharp yet harmless blades.

After a bit of running around on the wolf, you reach a nice looking medival village, lots of fantasy looking monsters running around, building things and working.

Well damm... This looks better managed then soceity.

The goblin that lead you here looks behind him to check up on you, to see if youre still on the wolf before enetering the crowd and bringing you somewhere.

He brings you all the way to what seems to be the towns centre. Gesturing for you to hop off here.

You hesitantly nod, awkardly smiling at the goblin as a form of thanks.

Welp, now you were in a random city, full of magical looking monsters and whatnot.

You hear the magical residents go about their day, smells of foods, contruction and just random things fill your weirdly sensetive nose.

Just as you were about to enter the building in front of you, as it looked like a town hall, you felt a squishy thing bump against your leg.

You look down, eyes widening at this small, light blue slime. Tapping your leg for attention.

"Uh... Can I help you?" You ask it in confusion, not reallu expecting it to react.

"Yes! You're new, aren't you? I'm Rimuru! Welcome to my city!" The blue slime speaks. It speaks!

"I.. yes? My name's Y/N." You awkardly repsond to the talking slime- Rimuru. What wonders does this world have in store for you?

"Great! I'll show you around!" Rimuru speaks in an exited manner... but he doesn't have a mouth... Telepathy, maybe?

Whatever. That day, Rimuru showed you around his city full of fantasy folk. Introducing you to all kinds of people, some of his trusted compagnions and whatnot.

But thats... how you ended up like this...

----------------

"Y/N. You can't go. Whats wrong with the village? We can give you everything!" Benimaru protests as he catches the arm holding your bag. The tall kijin holds onto you desparatly.

After three months of living in this village, you got to know pretty much everyone. And let's just say, they really like 'the cute demi-cat'.

Wich is why, when you planned to finally go explore some more of this weird world. You got met with a lot of complaints.

They've already set up guards by the city exits, you've been monitored for the past two days and now Benimaru was here to personally stop you.

"Let go, I just want to explore." You sigh, done with this weird protection you're receiving.

"No can do orders from the boss... that I absoluty agree with. You aren't ready for the rest of this world." The kijin repeats those lame words. He's grinning like always, just happy to be able to hold you.

Your ears flatten on your head and he 'awws'. How agitating.

"Come on, just stay and let me pet you!" The red kijin coees and sets you back down in your house. A babyproofed house.

Wich was annoying as hell! You didn't even get a knife sharp enough to cut the crust off your bread!

Benimaru takes the liberty of ruffling your hair. He's what you'd call... a big brother. Only diffrence, is that this one doesn't let you do stupid things.

But he wasn't the worst.... You'd say Rimuru was the most peacefull.. But Shuna was determined to get you to marry her.... And Gabiru had the idea that you were his bestest friend ever.

Wich is a reason to why you weren't allowed to leave. The people in the city got too attached to you. Maybe they found you friendly? 

But whatever the reason, you wanted out. They didn't let you do anything dangerous! Wich sounds stupid but you wnated to go explore too!

As if sensing your toughts, Benimaru grabbed yoy into a bear hug, his form engulfs you, you're barely visible. He loves it like this.

"Let go." You demand, voice muffled by his sleeves.

"No." He smiles down at you, nuzzeling his head into your hair.

You huff in annoyance. All this attention was nice... for a week. But it's as if they never, ever got bored of you.

It seemed impossible in your head. No-one takes intrest in you for this long.

Yet these fantasy people did. And it was weird. Like they had it all planned out.

Wich they did, but you didn't know of the plan. Wich Rimuru vowed to keep that way. He knew of the dangers of the world, and you weren't ready.

Better off with him and his friends.

You get snapped out of your toughts by the door of your house opening, speak of the devil. Rimuru. In his human form, today.

"Y/N! I see you've changed your mind yes?" He smiles at you, the... well... you still didn't figure out his gender... but since he said he used to be a man.. in his past life.. you just rolled with that because They/them takes longer to write.

"No, I'm just.... being blocked, at the moment." You speak from between Benimaru's arms as he doens't plan to let go any time soon.

"Well thats a shame. Don't you like it here?" Rimuru asks with a pout. Golden eyes looking straight at you.

"I do, i just want to see more." You asnwer what you always do. But ofcourse he just shakes his head.

"You're not going to." Rimuru answers back, a dark tone to his voice for the first time since you met him.

You try to protest but Benimaru clasps a hand over your mouth to stop it.

You lick his hand but he doesnt relent. Rimuru chuckles at your annoyed expression.

"Don't try. Y/N, if you don't stay willingly... You'd make a lot of my friends sad." Rimuru speaks in a belitteling tone. walking up to you and petting your head dismissivly.

You let out muffled sounds of protests, squirming against Benimarus limbs as hes holding you down.

"Fine then, we'll lock your house down from now on. Is this what you wanted?" Rimuru snarkily tilted his head. You didn't recognise him like this. He's always been so friendly. But now, with those scary dulled eyes on the cutesy face... he's just offputting.

You made your protests known by a harsh glare. But he just smiled. You were really getting pissed off! You were an adult for god sake! No matter these cat features! This was dehumanizing!

Rimuru left, taking Benimaru with him. You heard the lock click into place. The windows had never been able to open... so..

But what they didn't know, was that you were a great lockpicker. Being bored in middle school was bound to pay off at some point!

So when it got dark out, and all these annoyances went to bed. You took that little metal hairclip and got to work. These fantasy people didn't know how to make complicated locks. So it wasn't that hard.

And bam, door open, Y/N free!

So you just sneak out of your house, taking some food with you, along with the non cutesy clothes they've provided you with.

Atleast being half cat gave you great stealth. No-one would hear you.

So you left Rimuru city. Into Jura forest and just... Wherever you wanted to go.

Ofcourse, you had been thankfull for their hospitality for a while, You mean, modern soceity would have let you rot on the streets. But still, locking someone in a house? Crazy.

The leaves crunched under your feet and you were getting paranoid that you'd leave a trail for them to find.

You sped up your pace, hoping to find somewhere else to hide. A cave maybe? A difrent city?

But no, you ended up meeting monsters. Lots of them. They chased you down, tired you out. You felt like real prey for once.

You hid in a tree and stared at these savage beasts as they kept patrolling under the tree. You couldn't get out. Trapped once again. But not as comfrotable.

But not for long. As morning broke out, the warm rays hitting your cold face after a night out in the tree, you heard sniffing.

And it wasn't from the monsters.

Before you knew it, they were all torn to shred by Ranga, Rimuru's wolf compagnion. Shit! He tracked you down!

Rimuru was on his back, in slime form. He devoured the tree you were in and turned human just to catch you in a ridiculously tight grip.

He seemed mad, stressed. Not a word was exchanged as he set you on Ranga and rode back to the city. Harsh grip around your waist.

"Y/N. You. Don't. Get. To. Leave." Rimuru whispered to you as you arrived back at the village.

You expected him to throw you back into your house but he too kyou to his living quarters instead. 

Tugging you along to one of the many rooms. Opening a wooden door, the overpowered slime set you on the soft bed and clicked some magic restraints to your wrists.

"This is your own fault. Ok?" Rimuru spoke darkly.

"You'll marry Shuna and Souei. You'll stay put and let us ake care of you. You hear me? This world is dangerous, and you weren't granted powers like I was." Rimuru explains with a serious face. He wanted you to marry two kijins!? Two?! Whatn to tie you to this place?

"I'm not getting married-" You started but he shut your mouth.

"You are. They keep whining about it and why not? You deserve some love, don't you think so?" He grins. You were genuinly scared of the slime at this point. This sounded way too creepy.

"You wouldn't want Gabiru to miss his best friend, would you? Or Benimaru to miss his adorable little sibling? Don't you get how dear yo uare to everyone?" Rimuru carresses you cheek softly. What kind of manipulation is this bitch pulling on you?

But you were afraid of talking back. This boy could pulvorize you ten times over.

So you reluctantly nod. Maybe... Maybe you could get used to living here? Its not like they hurt you...

Rimuru immeadiatly turned bubbly and cute again as you nod. Smiling brightly and patting your head before he leaves again.

The door clicks to a locked state and you slowly pann your gaze over to your cuffed wrists. They glow in the sunlight coming from the thick looking window.

'What the hell just happned?' You deadpann at the floor, needing a moment to register what just got decided for you.

You'd be stuck with these crazy sicko's forever!

A nightmare, really, being taken care off and loved. ew, who would like that-

Wait a minute.

Now hold up.

Well it may have been nice if you liked being stuck in a room. But nu uh. You were an adventurous cat!

The universe granted you a second life and you weren't going to waste it in the position of a docile house husband/wife!

But... You never got your adventure. Married off to two Kijin. 

Intertwined with all these people you had grown to know.

If only they had liked you... a normal amount.

Then you could have lived a seconds life.

This could barely be called that.

This was.... The life of a doll. It had to be. Put on display and loved by all, owned by all.

Thats what you'd always be.

A cute cat, to be cuddled and coddled.

Nothing else...

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I think I went braindead while writing this twice.

Sorry for the late-ness! School has been killing me, last year isn't a damm joke.

I hope this was readable!

Have a nice day/night!

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Words: 2712