#if they were still good with each other this would not have shaken out the way it did I stand by THAT!

[the-bensolos]

No but like ok, Roman never faces the consequences of his actions, ever. But with Gerri it’s different, she cut herself out of his life literally forcing him to deal with the consequences of his actions. The one authority figure, the one person who would talk shop with him, the one person he could go to for advice and guidance, the one person who actually believed in him once upon a time. And now he’s where he is, reaping the consequences of his actions, aligned with a fascist president-elect, belittling Shiv, being flippant with Connor, not seeing the whole picture. By ruining  his relationship with his one true partner and confidant he shot himself in the foot and he doesn’t even know it. There are consequences Roman, there always are.

[chuluoyi]

𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄 !

- gojo satoru x reader // zen'in naoya x reader

the path of love is never easy for you, be it now or back then. love, pain, betrayal and tragedy — you have been through them all. after all is said and done, you just want one chance at happiness. so will your second marriage be what you always want it to be, or will it be one last heartbreak you have to go through?

genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—might be ooc, angst, hurt/comfort, a lot of fluff, marriage of convenience, explicit smut (semi-public sex), pregnancy, childbirth, mentions of curses

note: loosely inspired by and taking some elements of manhwa remarried empress. this is the final part of remarried empress au trilogy! wc. 9.4k ! i'm so happy with how well-received this little series is :') thank you so, so much for reading!

credit header goes to @/poro06625649 in twitter!

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“Satoru...”

Once, to you, love meant complete acceptance. To be able to accept someone so wholly, unquestionably, as they are.

Until you excelled in everything, a stone throw away from perfection even, and Naoya still spurned you.

When you married Satoru out of sheer impulse just to preserve your standing, you thought you had found that kind of love at last. Until it became clear a part of him wanted something else, and you couldn't accept that.

At the same time, you also felt like a hypocrite, because you wanted that love for you, and yet you couldn't give the same to him and even doubted him altogether. Using each other, you had even said.

But right at this moment... none of that mattered anymore.

Not when Satoru forcefully hurled Suguru aside, fought his way through the searing heat, tearing away debris after debris, punching through the remnants of the collapsing pagoda, all while dreadfully screaming your name.

“Where are you!? Gods, answer me!” He looked like a desperate madman. He was hyperventilating, bloodied, and yet he kept violently flinging the debris, determined to find you.

That sight of him struck you straight in the heart. He could've obliterated the whole tower with his ability if he wanted to, but he didn't. Doing so would seal your fate entirely.

He yelled your name once again, pouring his anguish and frustration into the air that his voice grew hoarse. “Where are you!”

If this isn't love, you thought almost tearfully. Then what is?

“Satoru!” and so you forced yourself to walk, despite being on the verge of collapse. Seeing him like this tore your heart to shreds. “Satoru!”

He stopped abruptly, his chest still heaving violently before turning to you. At first, he thought it was the voice inside his head. Everything around him was a chaotic blur, so when he turned to find you standing there, miraculously unharmed, he was stunned.

A shuddering breath escaped him as he gazed at you, the blue in his eyes filled with so much fright you had never seen before. "Y/N...?"

You staggered on your feet, your dress appearing singed at the edges—but you were there, alive.

"What are you doing!?" you admonished, almost in tears. "Why do you hurt yourself like that!?"

Suddenly, it was hard to breathe, but he didn't hesitate. He flung the splinter in his hand away and sprinted towards you, roughly pulling you into his arms.

"—!" he rasped, almost gasping for air, while squeezing the back of your head closer. "Heavens, I thought... I thought you were—!"

Satoru was trembling so badly in your embrace, unable to utter another word as he buried his face in your shoulder. He was beyond shaken—grunting, taking sharp breaths, and holding you so tightly that it left you at a loss of words.

He only pulled back once, albeit shakily, to have a good look of your face. There was one bruise on your cheek and you were covered in soot.

But you were still the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

"I'm fine..." you tried reassuring him, lips wobbling, placing a hand on his palm that touched your face. "I'm fine now..."

Then Satoru pulled you close again, and you came willingly. Simply holding you, he inhaled the scent of the roses mixed with ash in your hair, feeling your breath on his neck.

To see this man, usually so self-assured, reduced to such a mess out of fear for you touched you deeply. You nestled closer to him, feeling a sense of peace wash over you.

In that moment, as you two clung to each other, nothing else matters.

"You've always coveted what I have..."

The ice in your eyes and the chill in your words felt like a curse. Hanabi was beside herself every day ever since she had left Western Empire. No way, she even saw you in her dreams!

Granted, her impulsiveness had almost cost her everything. She shouldn't have placed that curse on the necklace— she shouldn't have dared to attempt it in the first place.

But seeing that piece that had tied you two together—the testament to Naoya's remaining affection for you, however small it was—made Hanabi burn with jealousy. Why did he remember you still? Hadn't he dethroned you and chosen her?

Also, why did you put it as if she had been trying to take all that you had? She was now a royal consort, she was just demanding what she was due!

"...and sooner or later, that will be your downfall."

Hanabi shivered as an intense chill seemed to enter her body, spreading rapidly to her limbs and brain, immobilizing her. What is it? Why are your words struck her to the core?

"My lady, are you alright?" her attendant walked up to her as she clutched her chest.

"I-I..." Hanabi faltered, trying to even her breath. "I'm not feeling that well..."

"Shall I get the physician? You do look pale..."

"Please do."

Damn you. The more she thought about it, the angrier she became. You must've cursed her, that must be it! Why else did she keep hearing your voice?

"Sending you back to Naoya is a punishment in itself—you know that by now."

No, she had come this far. Even if she couldn't have Naoya's favor, even if she couldn't become the empress... she would fight tooth and nail to remain a consort.

After all, all her life, she was meant for this.

. . .

And true to her conviction... once again, fortune favors the bold.

"My lady, congratulations! You're with child!"

Hanabi blinked at the cheerful royal physician as he delivered the news. "R-really? Are you... sure?"

"Certainly! Oh, this is great news! The emperor will surely be delighted by this news!"

For a full minute, Hanabi sat there, stunned in amazement. She had really done it, and if it was a boy this time, then...

"Aha..." she burst into a small titter then, before breaking into a full-blown laugh. "Ahahaha!"

You're wrong, Empress Y/N. This time, I will show you.

"Congratulations, my lady!" the ladies around her gathered, showering her with praises. And Hanabi knew that finally, her time had come.

True paradise begins in hell. And now, I've risen from that hell.

Contrary to what you told Satoru, you were, in fact, not fine.

Shoko was the one who led you out of the burning pagoda, sustaining burns herself in the process. Immediately after you found Satoru, who was frantically on the verge of losing his sanity searching for you, you collapsed in his arms.

You had inhaled a significant amount of smoke, there was a gash in your arm, and you were even bleeding due to the stress.

And therefore, you were put on bedrest for the next upcoming weeks by the royal physician's orders and by extension, Satoru's.

However, during those three weeks, Satoru never visited you even once.

. . .

"Are you sure you're well enough to be walking around already?"

After being confined to your bedchamber for what felt like forever, you decided to take a stroll in the royal gardens. Shoko was the one in charge of watching you like a hawk these days. She didn't usually follow you around—you noticed she often went out on her own—but lately, she insisted on being by your side.

"Mm-hmm, I'm perfectly well now, Shoko," you gave her a smile as you admired the blue roses in the bushes. "You don't have to keep an eye on me all the time. I'm feeling better already."

You would be lying if you said you didn't miss your husband. A part of you of course wanted Satoru to check on you, or at least, your baby. Three weeks had passed, and your belly was now rounder and heavier.

"Oh, well... That's good then..."

Shoko seemed a bit unsure, frowning even, and you had your guesses, so you decided to bite the bullet. "How is Satoru these days?"

"Eh?"

"You must've seen him. He isn't avoiding you like he does me."

"Your Majesty..." Shoko let out a long sigh, seemingly exasperated and sorry at the same time, and you knew you hit the mark with it. "He's well, don't worry too much about him."

"Is he taking enough breaks?"

"He— err, I'm not really sure about that."

"Then, next time you see him, along with my general condition, tell him that I want him to do so."

You didn't mean to make Shoko uncomfortable, and if you did, then it was most definitely not what you intended. You just wanted a way to communicate with your brooding husband, that was all.

"You absolute imbecile! This is beyond ridiculous, why are you refusing to meet your own wife and talk to her?!"

If it had been anyone other than Countess Shoko, they would have certainly been hanged for their outrageous words against the emperor.

Satoru actually felt bitter for not visiting you ever since that day of the fire. Truth to be told, he was worried sick, the terror of thinking you might have perished in the blaze still lingered with him to this day.

He wanted nothing more than to hug you and bury his face in yours. He genuinely wanted you to be well and safe, always. Preferably, if he could keep you close too.

So, why did he avoid you on purpose?

First, the utter awkwardness. Second, the very fact that you had allowed those scums from Eastern Empire to be released. He still couldn't accept it, no matter how. In his eyes, you did it out of love for Naoya.

And that, in and of itself, was like a betrayal of his heart.

"She is becoming unhappy," Shoko noted earlier, frustration evident in her tone. "And on some nights, she also experiences hip pains due to carrying your baby. You're heartless if you don't even come to look at her even once!"

But then, Satoru felt as if he'd been punched in the gut. His unborn child.

...he had left you more or less alone now, hadn't he?

In reality, you preferred the secluded comfort of your study over the royal gardens.

And yet, that beloved study Satoru gifted you on the day he married you and you became the empress of Western Empire felt constricting lately. You almost felt claustrophobic.

Maybe it was the burgundy walls, or perhaps it was the sting of bitterness in your chest that you tried to suppress so others wouldn't see. You didn't really care which though.

So, you often wandered through the gardens to enjoy the fresh air, and at times, stopping by the spot where the pagoda once stood.

Nothing. Now that was all that left. The image of a once-beautiful tower reduced to dust and the scorched earth evoked a sense of loss within you, and what made it more painful was knowing that you were the one responsible for its destruction.

But still, what hurt the most was... what had happened to the man who had trembled with fear, believing you might not have escaped the burning pagoda? Why had he spared you with nothing at all?

"Meow..."

You looked at the squirming cat in your arms, his fluffy tail tickling you. "Oh, Sugu-chan, do you want to take a walk too?"

The clear blue eyes of Satoru's pet cat looked back at you demurely before he leapt out of your arms and trotted ahead, as if leading the way.

With nothing better to occupy your time, you often played with Sugu-chan to amuse yourself these days. The cat, with its gentle disposition, frequently curled up next to you for comfort and he somehow made those days better.

"Sugu-chan, don't stray too far!" you called out, trailing closely behind him. Knowing well that you weren't well enough to chase after him should he run off, you watched to ensure he didn't disappear from sight. "Oh!"

And sigh, he did just that. Sugu-chan leapt into the bushes, prompting you to release a resigned breath before navigating through the maze-like foliage.

"Sugu-chan, where are youuu?" you drew a breath, glancing around in confusion. "If only you were calmer like your namesake..."

After navigating several corners, you turned another and spotted a fluffy white fur, and you swore to the skies that you would yank Sugu-chan by his tail if he were to wander off again, when—

"Meooow!"

"Bad, bad cat! Why did you bite me—!?"

—and there you saw your husband, crouching down as he clutched his hand, before he whipped his head to look at you—

"Satoru," you straightened your back by instinct, your heartbeat quickening.

His eyes turned blank for a second, before those blue pools regarded you with a look you couldn't really discern. "Y/N."

. . .

It was awkward silence throughout the way. You didn't even realize when you had arrived at Satoru's study.

You had wanted this unsettling atmosphere between you to end. Why couldn't both of you just be honest already? You were about to voice your thoughts when suddenly Satoru, who had his back on you, suddenly said:

"I will not have a scandal. Therefore, you will behave in a way that nothing is known against you. In return, you will retain your privileges as the empress of the Western Empire, and continue to fulfill your duties."

That? That's the first thing he said to you after those weeks sonorous silence? This stiff, faux nonsense of him pardoning you of your supposed treason?

"Is that all you have to say to me?" you blurted almost immediately, feeling your anger rising. "After everything—"

"After everything— yes." Satoru's back was still facing you, his light blue robes shifted slightly as he tucked his hands inside his pocket pants. "Despite everything, I have nothing but concern for you, Empress. And your act of treason— even if you take no offense, I still consider it a stain on my name to let a pair of criminals go free. Consider it my generosity that I decided to overlook it."

Your body felt like shaking, his strained and formal words irked you, and at the same time, pierced through your heart and tore it to pieces.

"I've told you— I can't let Megumi be condemned for a deed he hasn't committed," you stated firmly, staring hard at his back as if you could bore a hole through him. "He is a kind boy, he used to be my ward. And you know as well as I do, he isn't capable of such a thing!"

"What about that consort—the woman who overtook your place?" he suddenly turned to face you, and the expression on his face almost made you shrink. There was no emotions in his eyes, just a dark hue of blue. "She was the one staging it, wasn't she?"

"I'm not vindictive enough to sentence her to her death here, Satoru." The more you argued about this, the more you felt like you were losing him. "Naoya will deal with her as he sees fit."

The mention of your ex-husband seemed to trigger something in him that his lips curled into a sneer.

"So much trust you place in him. As I thought, I should've never expected the same for me. Granted, we're just using each other, aren't we?"

Your own words thrown back at you, it felt like your shattered heart was being stomped on and reduced to dust, because how could he?

Still, you blinked away your tears, steeling yourself with the one fact even Satoru wouldn't be able to refute. "You said it yourself—you intend to use me for your war against the Eastern Empire. How am I not supposed to see that as you using me?"

You let out a scoff when Satoru wasn't able to answer you, but then suddenly it occurred to you that there might be another reason, one you had suspected, and yet still not able to make sense of.

"I'd think jealousy is insulting to you, so why?" you questioned, suddenly feeling a sense of betrayal. "Why is it that you can't believe that I can love you the same way I did Naoya? Or possibly even more?"

To Satoru, that very thought still felt like a thorn inside his chest. How you managed to see through him almost made his facade falter—

"And if you feel that it's unfair to you how you're the one who keeps proving yourself—then tell me," you suddenly demanded with a gritted teeth. "How am I supposed to believe you've loved me when I know marrying me came at just the right time for your goals?"

"That's not true!" he suddenly raised his voice, all pretentiousness forgotten. Right in this moment, to your surprise, he no longer resembled the cold, distant emperor he seemed to be.

“From the very moment you led me by the hand twenty years ago, I’ve longed for you! And now that I finally have you— it goes beyond mere infatuation or obsession! Heavens help me, but fuck it— I love you so damn much!”

It was everything. Satoru had poured his entire heart out in one go, believing it would be enough, until he saw you trembling, visibly holding back tears.

Your pretty eyes widened as you took in his confession. Your precious lips parted slightly, wobbling in effort to hold yourself together—

—until you felt light all of a sudden, as if the boulder in your heart had came crashing down, as if you had let go of all fears, and a small chuckle escaped you.

"You said, the woman you thought to have a semblance of affection for you doesn't exist," your voice was uneven but you tried so hard to sound clear, a relieved smile forming on your lips. "But she does. I do."

“I love you, Satoru.” The first of your tears fell then, and your voice came out in a sob. “I believe I love you. I'm the happiest while being with you. And so, to hear you say that I'm just a part of your plans makes me so incredibly sad, I—”

“I just want… the honest truth from you.” You took a deep breath to steady yourself, your eyes glistening like diamonds as you fought back the tears.

He swore something inside him twisted and bled at your voice, and suddenly, nothing else mattered—

Not when you have bared everything.

Before he could think, he took two decisive strides towards you and pulled you into his arms.

"Don't cry..." he pulled you tighter into him. "I'm sorry— don't cry, sweetheart, please—"

You kept sniffling into him, and Satoru felt his heart break then, as never had he seen you so utterly dejected that you surrendered in his arms.

How was it possible that the mere realization and sight of your genuine affection and tears reduced him to a man who would give up everything for you?

“It’s true, I have been planning to wage war against Eastern Empire for years. I took measures to keep them in check, and I do think having you by my side would definitely give me an advantage. But that’s not it... when I saw how you were being wronged there, I was even more convinced it was the rightest thing to do.”

He loves you. Even if he had committed various things, be it heinous or deceptive, one truth that transcends all is that his love for you is genuine.

“You mean so much to me,” he whispered into your ear, his hand tracing along your spine. “Everything else might be true, but you— no, I have loved you first before everything.”

Oh. You looked up to him, finding his clear, steadfast gaze on you. So this is how he is like when he isn’t hiding behind that crafty smile. When he is being most truthful.

The overflowing emotions obliterated whatever doubts you had left. You felt full. A profound, pervasive sense of love radiated through your myriad thoughts.

And to him, nothing was more liberating than knowing that you returned his love with equal fervor.

You felt bliss... utter bliss.

You didn't really know when you fell asleep, but it felt like the best rest you had in ages. For weeks, you had been waking up in the middle of the night, either in cold sweat or feeling tingling, barely-there stabs in your growing belly. On those nights, you would clutch the pillow beside you for comfort.

But tonight, you felt warm, and the first thing you noticed was Satoru's hair right in your face. He had laid his head above your chest, and his fingers were gently stroking your visible bump.

"Satoru...?" you asked sleepily, and he immediately turned to you in slight surprise.

"Did I wake you?" he looked almost alarmed. "Or do you feel any kind of pain or—?"

"No, just—" and you bit your lip when that familiar stab of pain shot through your hips. Your hand pressed against the spot as you let out a small grunt.

"Hey, what do you feel now?" Satoru immediately moved beside you, capturing you in the warmth of his embrace. "Does it hurt much? Do I need to call for—"

"No need to, it's fine—"

"It's not fine," he firmly retorted, his jaw set in a tight line. "The royal physician will come here first thing in the morning and that's final."

A faint smile formed in your lips as you curled closer and sighed contentedly into him. "Whatever you wish then, Your Majesty."

Satoru took that as a hint of sarcasm, but he simply pressed you closer and placed his warm hand over the spot where your hand rested. "Shoko told me. How long have you been enduring this?"

"Fairly recently, actually. A few weeks or so..."

I never knew. He berated himself because how would he be aware of this when he had completely shut you down? The stress must've gotten to you, and you were so delicate right now...

"Sorry," he sighed into your hair, his voice so quiet it was almost unheard. "From now on, everything that makes you uncomfortable, please tell me."

You looked up at him, searching his face, and when your innocent eyes met his, he relented.

"I'll do everything in my power to ensure you have a smooth journey in delivering our child." His words, sharp yet genuine, made your heart nearly leap out of your chest. "I hate seeing you in any sort of discomfort."

He fretted over you this much and yet he used to think you wouldn't show him the same affection in return. That was so ridiculous when you thought about it now.

"Ah," you giggled freely, wrapping your arms tight around him, and Satoru was taken aback at how that simple affirmation from you made something inside him feel lighter.

His endearing queen, who loved him back, now right in his arms. As he massaged your waist, he thought back to many years of careful planning and schemes, just for one particular goal...

“Not anymore,” he told you quietly, and you sleepily blinked your eye open. “I love you too much to break your heart.”

“Hmm?”

You were puzzled, and could feel his hot breath at such a close distance. And then those blue crystal of eyes met yours, full of warmth, and the corners of his lips curved into a soft smile, one that caught you by the heart.

“I’m made of many things. The emperor of this land, a soldier of many ambitions... but in the end, just a man.” His voice was languid and yet so gentle that it almost lulled you to sleep again. “If it were up to me, I’d have no qualms with warring the Eastern Empire. But now... I no longer wish to do that.”

Anticipation surged within you at his words, but still...

Noticing your reluctance, Satoru pinched your cheek and smiled. "It's not what you want. I thought I could proceed with it even if it'd leave you heartbroken... but apparently I can't."

And with his next proclamation, you knew without a doubt that this time, they were truer than anything else.

“And do you know? Because I love you, I’m willing to do anything for you. Mark my words, my queen— From now on... Heaven and earth, I would give it all to you.”

"Mm..." Whether it was your hormones or the sheer sincerity that shone through his words, tears were brimming in your eyes as Satoru gave you his oath. "Thank you... for thinking of me."

"Anything for you, sweetheart." He dipped his head to press a kiss on your lips and you were about to snuggle closer to him when you felt that familiar flutter and suddenly let out a gasp—

"Satoru!" you exclaimed, almost startling him, but you immediately reached out and placed his hand on your belly. "Feel it!"

And then, his eyes widened slightly. It was the most wondrous moment he had ever experienced in his life as he felt the baby inside you kick and ripple beneath his palm.

"Ah..." he exhaled the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "Baby... she moves..."

The very idea of a precious baby girl that was an exact replica of you suddenly made his heart lurch. Satoru swore in that moment to protect her with his life... he didn't know it was possible, but he was already in love with her even when she wasn't born yet.

"Why are you so sure it's a girl?" you teased, wrapping your arms around his neck and smooched his jaw when he was rendered speechless. "I want a boy, you know."

Satoru snapped out of his trance and sullenly huffed. "I still hope it's a girl. I want a princess I can spoil rotten."

"I want a baby boy who looks like you." Your sincere wish surprised him, and he turned to you in bewilderment. "That way, even when you're away, I won't miss you as much since I still have the little prince near me."

"Ha." Satoru feigned a snort to cover the faint blush steadily gathering in his cheeks. Good heavens, how cute was it that he wanted a girl who resembled you and you wanted a boy just so he'd look like him? He was so giddy that he failed to come up with a witty comeback for you.

Pure bliss. After everything, this is your life from now on.

Shoko stood in front of your chambers the next morning, her heels clacking like a ticking watch of doom.

Unlike the everlasting frown etched on her face, she was actually in a dilemma, debating her choices outside your chambers. It was late morning already, but she'd hate to go in if you were not alone.

If she went ahead and caught you with Gojo on your bed—and worse, naked—with her own eyes... no, it was unthinkable what the sight would do to her. She would never recover. She would spew unforgivable profanities and Gojo might have her banished for real.

"What are you doing?"

Shoko whirled around so fast to suppress her shriek, and shot a look of distaste as soon as she saw who was behind her—Duke Geto. "Don't sneak up on me like that! You're not small like Sugu-chan!"

Suguru, prim and neat with his tied bun and black robes, raised one eyebrow, clearly swallowing any comments regarding the cat. "What are you doing, loitering in the hallway?"

"The empress hasn't woken up yet, and it's nearly midday. She has engagements with the master of tea parties later."

"Don't bother. Satoru's there. He'll most likely tell you that her schedule can be rearranged, and his word is law."

Shoko barked a laugh and Suguru too broke into a smile.

"So, they're good now?"

"Yeah... seems so."

"Thank fuck. Gojo owes me one for this."

The two friends chuckled again, relieved to know that the cold war between both of you had ceased.

Suguru leaned against the wall, his eyes crinkled at a memory. "Don't you remember those days, when Satoru used to watch the empress at each and every ball we attended, back when she was still the crown princess?"

Shoko crossed her arms, letting out a loud snort. "Oh yes. Everyone talked about him. The prince smitten by a rival country's betrothed... his reputation took a hit, but he never cared."

"I never took him seriously until recently. He was so adamant in his plans for the East that I thought... maybe it was all just to realize his war plans."

"Geto... don't tell me," the countess eyed her longtime friend incredulously. "Have not seen enough of the empress' paintings hanging in the halls? Is that not convincing enough for you?"

Throughout almost one year of your marriage, Satoru had commissioned at least five paintings of you to hang in the palace halls. Servants, members of parliament, and peerage must have seen at least one of your pictures whenever they turned a corner.

"If that's not stupidly in love, I didn't know what that is." Shoko shook her head with a smile. "Gojo has been spellbound for like years. I just never thought he'd really have her in the end though."

Suguru and Shoko had been by Satoru’s side for many years. Suguru was the closest to him still, and he had seen his friend for everything he was.

And knowing that Satoru was genuine in choosing this path, all Suguru could do was be happy for him.

“Life always has its ways… heh, I suppose all’s well that ends well.”

SOME MONTHS LATER . . .

"There, there, Sugu-chan!"

Suguru flinched. Satoru snickered.

"Meow!"

And you continued to tickle the white cat happily, seated a few feet away from both of them with a broad grin on your face.

"Should... Her Majesty be so close to the cat?" Suguru eventually asked, casting a skeptical gaze on you. The presence of the feline was certainly not what he expected when he entered Satoru's study per his summons. "It's dirty often and may affect her health."

"No, no... I never let him walk outside anymore and he has to be cleaned all times before the empress plays with him." Satoru's sly smile was a clear sign of taunt. "Suguru~ Won't you play with him too?"

Suguru shot him a withering look, his eyes twitching again the moment you addressed the cat by his childhood nickname.

"Oh, Sugu-chan, you're so gentle..." you exclaimed with a giggle. Your fingers gently scratched the cat's chin and behind his ears, causing him to purr happily and roll onto his back.

"Meooow~"

"Anyway, why did you call me here?" Suguru let out a sigh, disregarding the background noises and leveled a questioning look at his friend and ruler of the country.

"Hmm, nothing of importance actually, my cat just misses you is all," Satoru shrugged nonchalantly and Suguru really was about to pop a vein at his blatant response.

He then threw a sharp glance towards the pet and Sugu-chan immediately let out a dissatisfied hiss. This was always the way since the first day Satoru adopted him.

"Your cat, evidently, dislikes me at first sight."

"That's because he senses your animosity!"

Seeing how uncomfortable the duke looked, you suppressed a laugh and scooped up the feline into your arms. "Forgive me, Duke Geto. It's my idea to bring you here since I'm curious how you'd react if you and Sugu-chan are in the same room..."

...well, if it was your wish, who was he to deny it? Satoru would come for his head first should he do so.

You winked. "I'll bring him out for a walk, feel free to talk to your heart's content."

"Don't overexert yourself," Satoru warned, his playful expression towards him shifting to a concerned look for you, surprising Suguru in the process. "If walking is too much, take a rest."

"Yes, yes... I'll be fine~"

Satoru never took his eyes off you until you left his study, and Suguru couldn't help but smile.

"The way you always soften around her will never fail to surprise me," he noted with a hint of amusement.

"Then get surprised all your life because that's all I will do," he retorted with a proud smirk. "Oh right... how is the progress for the new courtyard?"

To replace the pagoda lost in your incident, Satoru came up with another gift for you—a private courtyard for your own personal pleasure. It still remained a secret from you, with Suguru tasked to oversee its construction.

"It's expected to be done before the empress' birthday, don't worry."

"Good..." His lips curved with satisfaction, before a blush tinted his cheeks. "And by then, the baby must've already..."

You were far along now, evident from how your dresses were no longer able to hide the curve of your swollen belly. He was to become a father soon, and anyone could see how elated Satoru was.

And suddenly he fixed his sharp gaze on his friend. "And Suguru, what about the other thing I asked? Have you looked into it?"

"Yeah...?"

"Zen'in Naoya's wench—" Satoru's eyes glinted with something akin to malice, as he still had that smile. "What did you find about her?"

Royal Consort Hanabi. A while ago, he also asked him to investigate her background, and Suguru almost forgot about it if he hadn't asked.

"Prior working as a palace servant, she was a former maid for Duke Kamo. As with all servants there, she was not treated kindly."

"Kamo? Interesting..."

The Kamo clan used to sit at Eastern Empire's throne up until Naoya's ancestors usurped it. Now, the heir remained a wealthy duke, and it was well-known that the fates of anyone who crossed him didn't end well.

Satoru hummed, barking a snort. "Well, I suppose that's it then. Suguru, proceed as is."

"I really thought you were done with any of your revenge plans." Suguru really didn't want to bring it up but he wasn't sure if this would bode well.

"I've given up on spilling blood, because that's not what my queen wants..." Satoru's smile froze on his face, yet his eyes sparkled. "But that doesn't mean I'll let that lowly bitch go unscathed. Our empress might be a saint and have chosen to spare her, but I most certainly am not as forgiving."

The chilly white light of the chandelier above him cast an eerie glow on Emperor Gojo Satoru at that moment, and Suguru almost shuddered.

"Didn't I tell you before? Anyone who dares to lay their hands on my empress... they have to pay the price."

Meanwhile in the Eastern Empire's palace, the royal consort still was the object of everyone's praises as of late.

It was almost astonishing how well she was treated recently, all because she was carrying the emperor's child, Hanabi thought with irony. So this was her life now.

Valued when she is able please the emperor, discarded when she fails to do so.

Sometimes it made her wonder, if it were still you in her place, would you be treated the same way? Or would you always be revered just like you were, unconditionally?

No matter. Her thoughts always leaned towards comparing herself with you, despite how much she hated it. Yet it was no use thinking of it now.

After all, now Naoya was in her arms.

She couldn't help but marvel at the sight of his sharp eyebrows and jaw. Hanabi had always thought, he was most handsome when he was vast asleep, when he wasn't hurling profanities at her or anyone else.

At first, she just wanted his love, and then a happy ending. She was never audacious enough to covet the empress' seat. But now she had to, after what you said to her.

"...that will be your downfall."

How could you? How dare you? Hanabi had gone through so much, who are you to dictate how her fates will turn out?

She now carried a son. She had even gone to an oracle to make sure of it. Soon, she would be the empress of this empire, and you would be forced to regard her as an equal.

And she was very much looking forward to that day…

Safe to say... you have long since thrown away any thoughts regarding the one woman who isn't worth a second of your time in your blissful days...

“Satoru, hng— ahh!” a lustful, provocative moan escaped your lips as you bucked your hips against his lips—face—and all the while, you weren’t even properly dressed.

But your emperor of a husband insisted on dipping his head inside your thin bathrobe and devouring you right on the staircase leading to the bathing chamber.

“Ah—aah—hah!” you threw your head back, spreading your legs impossibly wider around his shoulder, as you felt his lips licking your drenched nub.

You wanted so badly to see him, but weren’t able to do so as not only your belly had become such a dome that hindered you from seeing your lower half, Satoru hiding under your robes meant you wouldn’t be able to see him at all.

And so, all you could do was feel, feel and feel.

Feel how sticky wet your womanhood was, feel how his hair was tickling your thighs, and feel how as he eagerly sucked and nipped at you, it almost made you see stars—

“Satoru, the servants… mmrngh! Can walk in!” you tried to reason and yet failing at the same time as a shuddering pleasure washed over you like a rising tide.

“So be it,” came Satoru’s daring reply from underneath. “Let them see… and I’ll tell them— this is how their empress comes to be s-so swollen… with the fruit of my labors!”

You moaned again unabashedly, not even bothering to hold it back as the noises you made echoed throughout the hall, your fingers curling and clawing at the marbled tiles.

And soon, you couldn’t hold it in anymore as you came around his tongue.

“Ah…” you writhed breathlessly, feeling how your cum helplessly gushing out, limp against the stairs. Your body jerked, and cramped as you felt him taking in everything that came out of you.

When he was done, Satoru gently removed your light robe and embraced you, taking in every detail. He admired the cascade of your hair over your shoulder, the softness of your skin—seemingly even softer in recent months—and how your body gracefully accommodated the baby.

So heavy with his child… and yet it only roused his desires.

“Look at you, do I tire you out?” he chuckled, licking the remnants of your juice off his lips. You shot him an unamused look and poked his chest in response.

“Here, let me clean you up...”

After cleaning you, he gathered you and brought you to the bath tub, submerging both of you in the warm water.

Satoru pulled you close from behind, wrapping his arms around your upper body, gently kissing your neck.

“You’re so affectionate,” you giggled as you caressed his cheek. “I had half a mind that you’d be repulsed with how big I’ve become, and yet you never stray far from my bed.”

“Nonsense. Your chamber is the temple and I worship any ground you walk on.”

“You’re not worshipping me?”

“I do more than just worship you, my goddess.” Satoru drawled out with a lazy smile, burning a wet kiss on your face. “You know that.”

At this moment, you felt warm and fulfilled, resigning yourself to your husband's arms with a contented sigh... until you let out a low hiss when you felt the familiar pounding from inside your belly.

"Shh," Satoru warm hand pressed on the protruding spot in your bump, soothing you. "There, there... don't hurt your mama, hmm?"

Soon, you'd have your baby in your arms, and your heart melted at the very thought. That little baby would soon be running the palace halls, bringing joy to this empire.

"You know I'd protect you from anything and everything," your husband said to you in a whisper, lovingly breathing in your scent. "So my only wish for you is to deliver the baby safely. Afterwards, leave the rest to me, hmm?"

I don't want to lose you. That was clearly the fear behind his words. Satoru's grip on you tightened and you kissed his arm, reassuring him.

After everything you went through, this would be your happy ending, and you would do whatever it takes to win it.

And then the day comes —

Your labor pains started at the crack of dawn, and you were immediately brought to the birthing chambers afterwards.

Even within the confines of your chambers, your cries echoed through the halls. Shoko and several of your maids stayed with you inside, while the Archbishop guarded the entrance.

"It's almost a day and a half," Satoru muttered restlessly, unable to go on with his day as he paced outside. He had been with you when you woke up to your waters breaking, and he hadn't been able to think straight since.

A maid rushed outside with bloodied towels and he immediately stopped her. "How is the empress? Is she alright?"

The petrified maid bowed her head. "Her Majesty is losing blood, Your Majesty!"

He lost all reasons that very moment. "I have to come inside—!"

"You can't be in there, Your Majesty!" Archbishop Yaga sternly forbid, standing in his way. "It's women's business inside—you should be ready when they announced the birth of the child!"

Satoru's eyes twitched with fury and he was really about to drive past him when this time, it was Shoko who came out, looking alarmed. "Gojo! She's asking for you!"

"He cannot!"

"Suguru..." Satoru turned to his friend with a look and immediately, the duke went to the man’s side.

The emperor then regarded him with an unsettling smile. "Do you like being the Archbishop?"

"Huh?"

"Would you want to keep your position as the Archbishop?"

"Your Majesty!"

"Do you believe you can keep your position as the Archbishop... by defying me?"

Yaga fell silent, as if he had just swallowed a sour lemon, and Satoru seized the opportunity to push him aside. "Then move."

Even after Satoru had rushed inside, Suguru remained near the archbishop and Yaga looked at him incredulously. "He went inside already, why are you still here?"

"His Majesty's orders. Have to keep an eye for you for evaluation since he has another candidate in mind should he deem you unfit in your role..."

"Who is the other candidate!?"

"Ah, he told me his name was... Priest Akutami?"

. . .

Pain blinded your senses that you fell back to the sheets after strenuously pushing, and the next thing you knew, Satoru's face was in your sight.

"Sweetheart, hey..." he took hold of your hand and planted a firm kiss on it. His cerulean eyes gleamed brightly as he gazed at you. "I'm here now."

"Satoru—" your voice came out as a whisper, before another contraction seized you and you moaned. Your eyes rolled back involuntarily as the intense pain surged through you once more. You could feel how close you were, yet it was so painful you could barely breathe.

"Take deep breath, here—" he helped you to sit straighter and gave you his arm to hold.

"Your Majesty, I can see the head already!" the midwife exclaimed in joy, and Satoru turned to you with a smile.

“A little bit more,” he encouraged you, pressing a kiss on your temple. “Just a bit more, my sweet, you can do it, hmm? Here, hold onto me.”

And with his voice as your lifeline, you groaned and pushed once more, putting a part of your soul into it before you blacked out and collapsed in his arms.

At first, everything was silent, but then a sound reached your ears— a cry. Your baby's first cry.

"I-it's a princess!" the midwife announced, and the room erupted into gasps of wonder.

You looked at Satoru through bleary eyes, and for the first time, you saw him utterly speechless.

He was struck by the sight of that tiny being being gently cleaned by Shoko before his gaze returned to you.

You were sweaty, panting, limp, appearing haggard with tears in your eyes and streaking your face, and yet...

You are still the most beautiful thing he has ever laid his eyes on.

"A girl... just... like you wanted..." you managed to say with a hoarse voice and wobbly smile, and seeing you, without a moment's hesitation, Satoru went in and locked you in a deep kiss.

"Thank you—" even he himself was near tears when he pulled away and pressed his forehead against yours. There were so many things he wanted to tell you, countless celebrations he envisioned, all in praise of you and the heavens above for granting him such unparalleled happiness—

"...!" But suddenly, you curled into him, suppressing a scream and failing that it turned into a devastating wail, and you dug your nails into the flesh of his arm. "Ahhh!"

"What happened?" Satoru looked at you in alarm, then to the midwife who hurried to tend to you once more. "What happened to the Empress?!"

The midwife probed your belly, her expression lighting up with understanding. "O-oh my... there is another baby, Your Majesty!"

He didn't have time to dwell on the revelation when you cried out again. Setting aside all surprise, he aided you once more, and after more minutes of intense effort—

"A prince! The Empress has given birth to a prince!"

Twins. The whole Western Empire rejoiced at the news that their new empress had delivered a prince and princess for the nation.

Amidst the flurry of upcoming festivities and celebrations, you spent most of your days resting, as the birth had taken a lot out of you. Satoru took charge of the planning again, despite his busy schedule, and of course, he never failed to visit you and the babies regularly.

And whenever he did, his breath was always taken away.

Two precious babies lay still in the bassinet, peacefully asleep. Satoru gently poked each of them on the cheek.

The princess... as if the heavens had answered his prayers, she resembled you so closely that he fell in love all over again. She was so precious and small, and he imagined she would grow into a beauty just like you.

Satoru had sworn it before and did so again—he would protect her at all costs.

And the prince... he was so much like Satoru that it made his heart skip a beat. With his hair and eyes, his one concern was whether he had inherited his curse too. But regardless, he was determined to help and guide him should that day ever come.

When the boy cooed in his sleep, Satoru knew he too owned a part of his heart. He would definitely raise him well, teach him how to protect you and his sister, and one day, to succeed him as well.

As of you... you were asleep much like your children, and Satoru failed to hold back a smile. He gently combed your hair and just like that, you were roused from your sleep.

"Satoru, hello," you croaked and leaned into his touch.

His eyes fondly crinkled as he looked at you. "How are you feeling?"

"Good. It's been weeks. I've been feeling better for a while actually." You threw him a meaningful smile. "I might've cheated my way out of royal duties to rest..."

"Heh. Then keep cheating until the allotted time then. I'll permit it."

You raised an eyebrow. "When will my time be up?"

"The ceremony to present our babies..." Satoru played with your fingers. "We're expected to hold them and show them to the masses. You have to be there so they won't forget who the empress is."

"Right..." but you suddenly deflated and your husband tilted his head. "After that... we can't keep them out of the prying eyes anymore, everyone would delve into their affairs too."

Satoru's eyes fixed on you, sincere and true. "We can't avoid it, but if you wish for them to be out of the limelight for a little more time, I can arrange it. Your wishes come first."

The thought that your precious babies would be faced with many court intrigues made you want to keep them inside the protection of your womb a little longer. Yet, just as you and Satoru had experienced yourselves, sitting at the highest seat of monarchy required unbending will. Both of you would have to teach that strength to your children.

As if knowing what you were thinking, Satoru gathered both of your hands and squeezed it with a smile.

“Still, we are going to be there for them, are we not? Don’t worry. I’m here, and there’s no way I’m letting our son face any sort of curse alone.” He caressed your knuckles. “And you will be here for our daughter, teaching her how to become a magnificent lady just like you. As long as we’re here... they’ll be okay, hmm?”

Right at that moment, as you stared back at his deep, sparkling eyes, you could've sworn that you had fallen in love with Gojo Satoru once again.

You used to think that to love is to be accepted wholly, but after everything you had experienced, you realized that it also came with a load of worries, and you used to fear them, until...

A smile so pretty bloomed in your face as you squeezed his hand back.

“I love you,” you held his gaze unwaveringly, your eyes shining like glitters. “So long as we’re together, there’s nothing we can’t do, yeah?”

He seemed taken aback at first, before breaking into a smile so dashing it was almost blinding.

“Chasing after you and making you my empress is possibly the greatest deed I’ve achieved my entire life,” Satoru declared with a grin, and you knew your heart was truly his in every sense then.

“So, right. From now on and forevermore— You and me. Always.”

. . .

The presentation of the new crown prince and princess of Western Empire was an unforgettable affair. The grandeur of the celebration rivaled even the festivities of your wedding itself.

Given that it was both a ceremony for the babies and also nearing your birthday, Satoru decided to host a grand ball to mark the occasion. This lavish event ensured no one would dispute your position, regardless of how you came to hold it, and it was also befitting the bestowal of official titles upon your children.

Your son and daughter squirmed in their crib as they were brought forward, and once again, as you stood before the assembled court, you felt a twinge of reluctance to finally present them to everyone.

But Satoru's eyes held you with so much certainty that you found reassurance in his gaze.

And by the moment he cradled your son and you held your daughter, and he declared to the court—

"Here I present to you, the Crown Prince and Crown Princess of Western Empire!"

You feel wholly sure. With Satoru by your side, you let go of all your fears. Time and time again, he had proved the extent of his love for you, and as you ushered a new era with him, you believed all was going to be well.

Just like your coronation not long ago, the crowd cheered in joy.

Gazing upon the sea of people roaring and cheering below… a familiar warmth surged within you.

Once again, it was a sight beyond belief for you, as they chanted praises and acclamations—

“LONG LIVE THE CROWN PRINCE!”

“ALL HAIL THE EMPEROR!”

“LONG LIVE THE EMPIRE!”

SOME WEEKS LATER . . .

"We've received a very strange invitation..."

You looked up from your baby boy and curiously peeked at one of Satoru's aides who was on duty today, Todo Aoi. He had come bearing news.

You had always thought he was quite eccentric, but today, he looked uncharacteristically serious.

"Strange, how?" Suguru questioned.

"From?" Satoru added with a totally uninterested expression.

"Eastern Empire," the man coughed awkwardly, as if thinking hard. "Apparently, a prince has been born and the royal consort is to be crowned as the new empress..."

"Who!?" Shoko, who was holding your baby girl, whirled around in surprise.

"Royal Consort Hanabi, I believe her name is. She is to be the Empress of Eastern Empire."

It was such a deafening silence all of a sudden that you could hear a pin drop. Suguru and Shoko gaped. You were stunned.

Only Satoru who didn't seem to show any reaction to the news.

Suguru cleared his throat, feeling the need to double-take. "Empress of... where?"

"That conniving hag..." Shoko muttered under her breath, before her gaze accidentally landed on you.

You were surprised, but strangely, you didn't feel anything. Long ago, you would've been heartbroken by this turn of events, but now, it just eluded you how she could maintain her position as long as she could. Well, when one is favored by luck, anything is possible though...

Satoru suddenly clapped his hands, letting out a mocking laugh.

"Is it really that surprising?" he asked with so much sarcasm, catching all four of you off guard. "When the emperor can barely fulfill his duties, even a scullery maid could rise to become the mother of the nation. The real question is..."

It was as if a sudden chill descended upon the room when he next spoke:

"How long... will she last?"

The question is answered soon enough.

Empress Hanabi's reign in the Eastern Empire lasted for only seven days. It was known as the greatest scandal ever gracing the history.

She had given birth to a son, who was appointed as the crown prince on the same day as her coronation. Emperor Zen'in Naoya personally led the ceremony. At first glance, it really seemed well...

Until seven days later, he suddenly erupted in fury.

The palace walls have ears, and behind closed doors, servants whispered about the incident. It began with Naoya launching into a tirade, claiming that the princess born to Hanabi previously, as well as the newborn prince, were not his by blood.

It was of the highest form of treachery to deceive the crown, and so a death sentence was about to be imposed on Hanabi for this… until the emperor suddenly fell ill due to a stroke, rendering him unfit to rule. Prince Megumi ascended the throne as the new emperor.

Despite his stern demeanor, the young emperor showed abundant kindness. He considered the plight of Hanabi's children, realizing they would be in peril without their mother, so he chose to banish her instead.

. . .

How did it end up like this?

Hanabi didn't know how many days and nights she had cried, cursing fate and her life, as she was being sent away from the palace.

Everything was in her grasp. Her very grasp! Until... until—!

She sobbed her heart out once again, mourning her short-lived life, before it was cruelly robbed from her.

Her children... they were all of Naoya's blood. Despite doubts surrounding them, she was faithful to him and to the crown. All of this... was all a whole scheme to trap her!

...was it you? Could you have orchestrated this? Could you truly be so wicked as to ruin her life entirely?

"You've always coveted what I have, and sooner or later, that will be your downfall."

Was this the price of defying her social status, just like your omen, after all...?

"That can't be!" she screamed inside the wagon set to bring her to the unknown, her voice drowned by the sound of the rainstorm happening outside. "Empress Y/N... you're a horrible human being!"

With every fiber of her being, she hated you so much for ever crossing your path with hers.

Even until the end, she never realized that it was all her own doing.

After hours of journey on the road, she was brought inside a mansion she failed to recognize due to the storm at the first glance. She had given up on resisting because it was futile.

But upon realizing who awaited her in the room, she trembled in fear and backed against the wall.

Hanabi wished she could lose her sanity amidst the whirlwind madness happening to her, because really, it might be better than all of this.

His impressive height gazed down at her from above. It was impossible to hide from his piercing stare.

Duke Kamo Choso, with his crooked sneer, greeted her.

"Well, hello, Hanabi... it has been a while, huh? Did you miss me?"

- END -

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[luveline]

could you write plss write something about JJ’s confession and spencer is with bombshell reader and loves her entirely but she gets extremly scared and insecure??

Your usual confidence is shaken after JJ’s confession, but Spencer is emphatically in love with you. fem, 1.5k

Spencer gives you a rundown after every case. Not just as a colleague who missed it, but as his partner who he loves. This one comes out slowly. Maybe even reluctantly. 

He’s recounting the moment JJ had been forced to tell a secret. “She told me she’s always loved me, but that things are too complicated now.” 

You freeze in total bewilderment, your mug of hot tea swelling over the rim to warm your fingers. Further overwhelmed, you set it down on the coffee table. 

You’re in pyjamas on the couch. Spencer sits in sweatpants on the other end of it, his own cup of tea in hand. He’s watching you carefully. You’d felt generously comfortable only moments ago, riding the high of his continued survival, but now you’re feeling sick.. 

“She told you she loves you?”  

“That she was too scared to tell me before.” 

“And what do you think about that?” 

“I think if I never met you, I would’ve spent half of my life calling after her.” His lips quirk into one of those typical awkward Spencer smiles. “What should I think?” 

“I can't really tell you what to think, Spencer.” 

If he never met you, he’d still want JJ? Or if you weren’t in the way, he’d be with her now? Or what? 

You’ve never been the insecure type, to begin. You met Spencer when you were both rookies trying to establish themselves in the BAU, Spencer as a new member, and you as a hopeful applicant. Each time you liaised, or came around to annoy your good friend Derek Morgan, Spencer would be there, looking cute and lonely as ever. It was easy to become his friend. Easier again to fall in love with him. 

Not easy to convince him you truly wanted to be with him, but you were persistent, and… honestly, you’ve never been in love with someone like you have Spencer. That’s why JJ’s confession sends ice water down your back. 

He lets you steep for a few minutes, but ultimately can’t take the weird silence. 

“Hey,” he says, clear worry in his tone as he puts his own mug on the coffee table and moves to sit beside you, his hand falling onto your knee. “Hey, what’s that face about?” 

“What face?” you ask, schooling your expression. 

“That face.” His head tips to the side. 

“I’m not making a face.” 

“I know you…” he says, a tenderness to him as his hand slips under your leg, his fingers pressing into the softest skin behind your knee. 

“What else did she say?” 

He nods with understanding. “She said she was too scared to say it before, and that things are complicated now, I guess because everything’s changed so much.” 

“She has a family.” 

“Angel, even if she didn’t, you think that would make a difference?” He finds your hand for kissing. “What do you think I said to her? I love you. I told her I love you, she already knew that, but I told her again. I said there’s nothing complicated about it.” 

You stare at him. 

“Nothing complicated about it,” he repeats, pressing your kissed hand to his neck and covering it soundly with his own.  

You’re not expecting the insecurity of it. You and Spencer have never been on surer footing. Every day with him seems to guarantee the next. He just has to look at you and you know he’s your person, but you forgot he could just love somebody else if he wanted to. You forgot he even liked JJ to begin with. This sudden reminder is like having your legs kicked out from under you. 

You panic. 

“I love you,” he says, your hand moving down, pressed with fever to his chest. “More than anyone.” 

“I love you too… I just– I guess I thought JJ was my friend,” you say. 

“She is. She said she needed something that would shock the UnSub… I don’t think she expected anything to change. We just needed to get out of there.” 

He almost died and you’re thinking about JJ. Shit, JJ could’ve died. 

You bow your head. “I’m sorry.” 

“Oh, no, for what? For what?” He sandwiches you to his side. “I’m sorry, it’s not fair. It puts you in a bad position. But you don’t have anything to worry about, I love you, and I don’t have any feelings for JJ.” 

You wonder if that’s true. 

You’re being unlike yourself. Embarrassed, you hide your face in his collar and let him hug you gently. 

“Sorry.” 

“I’m sorry,” he says, “I have no idea what to do right now.” 

Insecurity isn’t your style, but it’s not something that can be helped. You have, through everything, pioneered desperately to put your best foot forward. You wear clothes ordered to fit and then tailored for good measure, you take care of your appearance in a way that others might find objectionable. Who you are outwardly is just as important to you as the inward, which makes this all the worse. You hate being out of control. 

Spencer can make it better, despite his insistence on cluelessness. “You know it could never be anyone else but you, right?” he asks softly. 

“Sorry, I’m just… I’m not angry because she didn’t have a choice, but do you really believe she didn’t mean it? She could’ve made up a hundred different lies.” 

“I think she meant it,” he says, still speaking softly. 

“You understand why that would freak me out, right? If you never met me, you could be with her.” 

“I can’t imagine a universe where we don’t meet,” he says. 

Spencer delivers it with that sincere yet shy honesty that he tends to say many things. Like it’s simple, like he’s aware of how cleanly cut it is, and like he’s worried you won’t agree with him. 

You try not to act so small, straightening your back, and sewing an arm behind his neck and over his shoulder. You’re not feeling a hundred percent just yet, and so you press your forehead to his cheek, his hair kissing your  ear. Spencer drags your leg across his thigh and lets you stew for a little while. 

“I don’t want to be with JJ.” He squeezes you closer, nearly has you in his lap. “Is that what you’re worried about? If I never met you, I wouldn’t want to be with her, because she had no interest in me, or– or maybe she did, but she didn’t show it. I know exactly what it feels like now to be loved without remorse, to– to never be told I’m too much. JJ is one of my best friends in the whole world, but you’re my heart. You’re the only person who’s ever liked me for me, all of me, even when I know it wasn’t easy.” 

“It’s always easy,” you murmur.

“That’s not the only reason I love you, but it’s important. JJ’s smart and she’s beautiful and she’s such a good mom, but she’s not you. She could never be you, and I don’t want anyone that isn’t you.” 

You don’t want him to say cruel things about JJ and you’re glad when he doesn’t, but you definitely need his assurance that he prefers you. Then you feel silly, because it’s your bed he comes home to, your hip he’s caressing as he waxes poetic for you. 

You feel less like he doesn’t love you and more like you’ve made a fool of yourself for even suggesting it. “Am I your best friend?” you ask (childishly, depending on who you ask). 

“You’re my best friend. You’re the best friend. Every day I get to be with you is perfect.” 

“That’s really romantic,” you mumble, nearly not quite kidding as you rub the tip of your nose into his cheek. 

“You bring it out of me.” 

You sigh and wrap your arms around him tightly. “Thanks, Dr. Reid. I think you fixed me.” 

“You’re still making a face.” 

“You almost died today, baby. JJ isn’t the sole thing on my mind.” 

“Almost died is an exaggeration. We almost die all the time.” 

You sniff his hair at your discretion. When he holds you like he’s doing now, you realise you have no need to worry. How can he squeeze your soft sides and chase your nose with his if he doesn’t mean what he says? Spencer’s not like that. 

“I’m sorry I overreacted,” you say. 

“I don’t think you did. But would you feel better if I say it’s okay? Because it’s okay. I’m sorry for telling you something I knew would upset you, but we don’t–”

“Have secrets, I know.” 

You give him a teeny kiss by his ear. 

“Thank you,” he murmurs pleasantly. 

You press another right on top of the first. Slower, you peel away to stroke his hair. His eyes hold all the proof you need —you’re loved without competition. 

[chilumi-shipper]

Crowned Flowers

Kamisato Ayato x Fem!Reader (Royal AU)

Summary: He's the Crowned Prince and you're just a commoner. You love each other but you had to keep your relationship a secret. Knowing it was the best to leave him alone and not make his life harder, you avoided him and no longer visited the castle. After years of pining for his first and only love, he is met with the sight of a little boy identical to him.

Warning: Slight Smut nothing intense

Tags: Slight Angst to Fluff, Royalty x Commoner

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

The young prince Ayato wasn't aware that such a cheap flower could bring about such beauty, yet a crown made of those cheap flowers laid on the head of a maiden he found strikingly admirable, he couldn't keep his eyes off you.

You were trying to catch the attention of other people around you, offering them a look of your basket of flowers, perhaps hoping that the flowers would be of interest to some people, and thus buy it off you.

"Sir..." The blue haired prince was shaken out of his trances, realizing that you had made your way over to him. You smiled at him with all the joy in your possibly pure heart. "Would you like to buy a flower? They're really pretty."

You didn't recognize him, probably because of his thick robe, covering the unmistakable blue hue of the hair of the royal family.

"Ahhh- Umm..." Ayato patted himself, looking for some mora to give you, but all his expenses are handled by his retainers, so he doesn't have anything on him. "I-I apologize, I don't seem to have any-"

You held up a flower for him still, "That's okay! I want you to take one for free! My mama said that giving something nice to others brightens up their day, and you can make good friends!"

He took the flowers in his hands, and never has the young prince felt so grateful for something so small.

Nobody knows why King Ayato's favorite flower is a cheap, white petaled flower that can be seen all over the kingdom. Surely someone of his status would love a rare, exotic flower only someone as rich as him could gaze upon.

But the sight of the beautiful flower reminded him of the love he unfortunately couldn't keep in his arms. The love that remained embedded in his being, never letting him forget the face that brought upon color in his world, the hands that cradles his face and caress his cheeks ever so softly, the body that he forever wants to hold close to his own, though he probably could never again.

The crowned king Ayato could only reminisce about the love of his life.

"The young prince is missing again!" Yelled one of his guards, his voice laced with worry, less for the prince and more for himself if he doesn't bring the prince back to the palace immediately.

The panicked guard yelling for help at the other guards drew a little giggle from you, making you cover your mouth to avoid making too much noise. You were hiding behind the tall fence of the local orphanage, Ayato next to you sitting close, trying not to laugh as well.

"Looks like we got some time for ourselves." He whispered, his face awfully close to yours. You smiled brightly, as you usually do, cuddling up to him.

"Your parents might kill you..." You rest your head on his shoulder, prompting him to wrap an arm around you. You sighed in contentment, hearing the fading frantic footsteps of the guards.

"I don't think I mind having this as my final moment before my parents kill me." You playfully slapped him on the chest due to his statement.

Ayato then had a thought, "Maybe... they wouldn't be disapproving of our relationship like we thought." He tightened his hold of you. ''Perhaps, we can finally-"

"It's unheard of, couples like us." You spoke sadly, sighing after. "It's only in those teenage fanfiction books does the commoner get the prince."

Ayato didn't want to admit that you were right, there was a low chance that his parents would allow him to marry a commoner, much less would the royal court.

He chose to end the topic with a joke. "Well then, I hope the writer of this story knows the decorations I want for our wedding." He basked in the smile that your lips formed.

As the king of his kingdom, he was expected to produce an heir to the throne within the first five years of his reign, yet he had not stuck to this expectation, he had not even chosen a bride.

It feels as though his heart is tied to only one, and no other lady could capture him in a loving blanket of eternal bliss in which you caged him in.

And no other could satisfy the hunger that you satiated during your first (and last) night together.

"I still wish to see you after this..." He says in a breathless moan, his hand landing on your hips as you grind yourself closer to him. "Archons, my queen..." He hisses, shutting his eyes at your moves above him sending him to absolute euphoria.

Your fingers poked at his cheek before your palm made contact, caressing it to opt him to open his eyes. You smile softly at him, "You have a duty..."

In the dim light of the moon illuminating from the windows of his room, you looked absolutely radiant, completely naked for him to devour with his eyes. His hips instinctively jerked up at the sight, making you whimper at the sudden sensation.

"I have a duty to the woman I love..." His own hand reach for your face, cupping your cheek. "I fucking love you..."

He had never felt such raw and intense emotions, but being bare and romantic with you within the warmth of his abode, showered by the cascading light of the moon truly made him love you even more.

You lean into his touch, closing your eyes as you start to move on his lap, letting him caress your insides. "I love you, I love you too..." You whispered, letting it mix with the moans that leaves your mouth.

After your intense, romantic, sweet love-making, you left his life with one last kiss to remember him by.

He's never seen you since then.

Sometimes he even thinks that you were just a figment of his imagination, his version of perfection within a girl that he would hopelessly fall in love with for the rest of his life.

But, as he stares at the scene in front of him...

"Flowers! Fresh flowers here! So pretty, it'll make you fall in love!"

...that young boy, selling white flowers in a somewhat familiar, worn-out basket, hair covered with a cloak, but his eyes... that unmistakable tint of purple that only one member of the royal family has.

His heart then drops, as the door of the house behind the little boy opens, revealing... you.

You... 're so beautiful...

A version of perfection within a girl that he would hopelessly fall in love with for the rest of his life.

"Your Majesty, the royal guards are done with their business here, we may go if you would allow us." A guard stood beside him, unbeknownst to the conflicting feeling swirling within the king.

"Yes, go..." Ayato refuses to take his eyes off the scene in front of him.

"And you, your Majest-" The guard could not finish his question before Ayato was walking up to the boy holding the basket.

"Sir with the crown! You want flowers, right?" As their gazes meet, the purple-eyed boy pointed at him and shouted excitedly.

Ayato chuckled, taking out a pouch of mora from his suit and kneeling down to the boys level. "Would this suffice for one lovely flower?"

"Wow! That's for a whole basket!"

"You can have it, I've been thought that giving something nice to others brightens up their day, and you can make good friends."

"My mommy says that!" As the boy exclaims, a figure walks up behind him, opting Ayato to look up.

"I know she does..." Though he is filled with conflicting emotions, he still smiles at you. "My queen says that."

"Is mommy your queen, Mr. Crown?"

Your eyes lock onto his, your gaze softening. "King Ayato... I'm sorry for my child..." His eyes seem to darken as you refer to your son as only yours.

Ayato gently places a hand on the little boys hood, lifting it off a little to reveal the same shade of blue hair as his. "Hmm... a very handsome young prince..."

The boy silently tugs at your skirt. "We're secretly royalty, mommy." He giggles, making his father smile.

"Yes, nobody would go against a king for declaring his beloved as a royal, to be by his side. " Ayato smiles proudly.

For the longest time in his life, he had always wanted to just hold you without worrying about the eyes of the public, and as he shamelessly holds out a hand to cup your cheek, he has fulfilled one of his many wishes.

"You can run from a crowned prince, but not a king, my queen." He pulls you in for a kiss, and despite to nosy eyes of your neighbors, you let him.

And you don't have to run away again.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

The little boy is unnamed, cuz I suck with names, so comment what you would name your little love child with Ayato!

Also, I found this in my drafts, it was like from a year ago and I read it and I can't believe it's so... beautifully written?? (not tutting my own horn, I was just truly impressed that I could come up with this, I mean, you guys read my smuts >:)) Anywayyy, hope you like it!

[umbrella-show]

꒰ ʚ🍬𝒮𝓌𝑒𝑒𝓉 𝐿𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒 𝐿𝒾𝑒 🍎ɞ ꒱

𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘈𝘱𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘦. 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘯𝘶𝘴𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘦𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘶𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴.

Beast Yeast ep 7 spoilers ahead!!!

You yawned as you were shaken awake, groggily rubbing your eyes to clear your vision. You looked over to see Apple faerie cookie gently poking your sides. She smiled down at you, taking your hand and gently pulling at your arm like an eager child. 

“Y/N! Wake up! I wanna show you something!”

You grumpilly huffed as you sat up. As your vision cleared and your eyes eventually got used to the light, you looked up at Apple faerie cookie. Her smile was wide and her eyes were big and filled with excitement. You couldn’t comprehend why she would feel such joy. Especially when you had just woken from a genuinely deep and relaxing sleep that was much needed. Ever since the start of the journey to the Spire, there were many coincidences that put you on edge. A calming and long rest would do your anxious mind some good.

“A-Apple faerie cookie? What's wrong?... What time is it?”

“Who cares?! I wanna show you a secret. I’m sure you’ll love it!”

“Can’t it wait?”

Apple faerie cookie amazingly managed to hoist your body to lean against hers with incredible strength. You shrieked in surprise before quickly covering your mouth. You feared you might have woken any of the others up with the involuntary shrill that came from your throat. After a few moments, the lack of tired groans and movement told you they were still fast asleep. She pulled at your arm and practically forced you from your napping spot.

“Nope! It’ll be quick, c’mon. I promise you’ll love it!”

Apple faerie cookie carried you through hallway after hallway, staircase after staircase. You eventually had woken up enough to walk without her support, but she still insisted on at least holding your hand. Her grip on you was strong, and she seemed to giddily giggle and pick up her pace at random times. You eventually grew accustomed to her short burst of energy and matched her pace when she began to get so thrilled for whatever reason. 

You both eventually walked in silence for a while. Apple faerie cookie was looking straight ahead and seemingly had a clear sight of where she was going. You, on the other hand, took time to look around at the scenery. The portraits caught most of your attention. There were portraits of multiple cookies framed on the walls. Some young, some old, some male, some female. Yet, they all seemed to have an uncanny resemblance with each other. Your eyes trailed from picture to picture. Maybe it was just a trick of the mind, but it felt as though their eyes followed you as you walked by. 

You shuddered lightly, something Apple faerie cookie apparently didn’t miss as she had begun to hold your hand tighter. The increased pressure on your hand managed to rip your attention from the framed pictures. You took a short glance towards the faerie and found she was already looking at you. When you caught her staring, she smiled, and softly giggled. Then, she decided this was the best moment to speak.

“You know, you’re different. Different from the rest.” She had softly murmured, gaining your full attention. “I understand now what he meant. You would really fit in here! I know it!”

Dumbfounded, you let out a small hum of confusion. She was being awfully and purposefully vague. Your suspicions from back of your mind began to creep up from the to the forefront, and you could feel yourself stiffen. Out of uneasiness, you craned your neck to look behind you, only to see the long hallway you and Apple Faerie cookie had been treading for what felt like a while.

You suddenly realized how far away from the group your two must be. You stowed your pace in an attempt to gain her attention to point this out, but she only managed to pull you forward. She didn’t seem to care about your aversion for continuing onward. In fact, her pace began to pick up again and she began to skip down the rest of the corridor. You struggled to follow as she led you up another staircase. 

“We’re almost there!”

She called behind her, completely ignorant to your protests. This staircase seemed to stretch higher than most, straining your already tired legs. You panted heavily when you finally had made it to the top after powering through. Apple faerie cookie had stopped when you two reached the top. You glanced around to see you two were currently in a smaller room with more portraits. 

The room almost made you woozy as you looked around. Every exit you could see would lead to more staircases and hallways that looked identical to each other. In fact, to your shock, when you looked behind you the stairs you and Apple faerie cookie had entered from was now replaced by a tall towering bookcase. It felt as though the room was shifting in this very moment, trapping you in this labyrinth of lies. Apple faerie cookie couldn’t have looked more ecstatic.

“Shadow Milk cookie, I brought the cookie you asked for!~ Safe and sound, I promise!”

You froze when you heard that name, whipping your head to face her. You instinctually took a step back to put some space between you two. Theories and suspicions ran through your mind as you struggled to comprehend your situation.

“A-Apple faerie cookie.. Where am I?”

A soft snicker left her mouth that soon evolved to mocking laughter. You saw her change from a faerie into a completely different cookie. It was all an act, a trick, you realized and you pressed yourself against the bookcase. You gave her a wavering glare as you tried to hide your surprise.

“KYA HA HA! You should see your face!”

She cackled, stepping closer as you helplessly pressed your back further and further against the bookshelf.

“Oh, you’re so funny! You know, with a little wardrobe change and a pinch of some sweet deceit, you’d be perfect here! Shadow Milk cookie was right in asking me to bring you! Of course! He’s always right!”

To your horror, the eyes of the cookies in the framed portraits suddenly shifted to lock on you. You could feel your head begin to spin as your vision warped. 

Your legs shook as the echoed laughter of Shadow Milk cookie filled your head. You slid down the bookshelf and fell to the ground as your legs gave out. The last thing you saw was Candy Apple cookie standing over you as she cackled, as her shadow behind her stretched and grew. Blue eyes pierced through the darkness and stared directly into yours as you fainted.

[cthulhus-curse]

Surprise, Surprise

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 5,561

Warnings: Ghostface WandaNat, Darkfic, Mommy Kink, Daddy Kink, Murder, Knife Play, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Degradation, Strap-Ons | 18+ Minors DNI

Summary: In which you find out the culprits of your former partner's death and receive more than what you bargained for.

On the one year anniversary, you failed to open your eyes in time. Regardless of the insistent beeping from the alarm, the voice from downstairs shouting your name along with the mocking chirps of the birds beneath your window, you remained still. The sole humoring of yet another year without your one and only, the person who you once deemed as the love of your life, made your bones chill while your blood ran cold. 

But of course your parents simply brushed it off. They knew of the difficulty you had to carry on leading up to the days of the first anniversary, and yet your mother didn’t do much but bark at you to get ready as the bus was leaving. Another morning in the hellish town of Westview. Oh how you longed to gain independence once the final semester of your senior year had passed. Only a few weeks left and school would be out. Then you’d finally move to the other side of the country leaving all your dismay and fury towards the town behind. 

Upon your arrival at school, a brown bag filled with half a sandwich and an apple you didn’t have the appetite for, all eyes were on you. It hadn’t missed you. The pity each person felt, the laughter behind closed doors at your loss. And yet no one dared utter her name. Kate Bishop. Was it that hard? For someone who hadn’t dared mutter it out into the world since the day of her disappearance, the presumed death you had long accepted to be true, you ought to cut everyone else some slack. 

“Good morning. I didn’t think you’d show up today,” came the greeting from your best friend. Thor was many things, but easy with his words was not one of them. “You know, with Kate’s death and everything. You didn’t take the day off.”

Each sound coming from his wretched mouth made your blood boil. “Yeah no shit Sherlock. I’m here, aren’t I?” You didn’t need to turn as the two of you waltzed down the packed hallways dripping with pity for you to know his worry faltered into hurt. “Sorry. I’m just a bit shaken up today for obvious reasons. Mom and dad didn’t think it was that bad so here I am. They said we didn’t know each other that well for me to be depressed. I mean, fuck, we knew each other since we were kids. How can they say that?”

“I’m sorry,” Thor mumbled, placing a sympathetic arm upon your upper back. “We can skip together if you want.”

“I’m not skipping class. They’ll kill me for that.”

“Oh like they killed Kate?” came a voice you knew so well from behind you. “I can’t wait until her body is found. It’s going to be so gross.”

Since the dawn of middle school, one Natasha Romanoff had taken it upon herself to reign hellfire down your life. A day didn’t go past where your classmate treated you with even an ounce of dignity. Somehow she got worse as time passed, especially once the whole incident with Kate occurred. 

You hadn’t attended school for weeks when she suddenly disappeared back in junior year. Your girlfriend of almost a year, a friend for longer, had left you behind to fend for yourself. Regardless of how many manhunts the police went on, the tedious nights you ran through the forest with the hopes of finding her until Thor had to drag you back to safety, Kate was gone. She probably skipped town so she didn’t have to deal with your sorry ass, was what Natasha always repeated. After weeks of such treatment, you began agreeing. 

“What’s wrong? Oh you’re not gonna cry, are you?” Natasha teased as she smacked your arm. Her reddened hair was up in a french braid, viridescent eyes darting down your body. “How pathetic. Does the little baby need a tissue, huh?”

Before you dared reply with a peace of your mind, there came her savior flying down the hall.

“Nat, stop. Don’t be such a dick.” Wanda Maximoff, the feared bully’s girlfriend, stood between you and the redhead. She flashed you an empathetic smile that you took as Thor’s nostrils flared. He didn’t like the so-called feigned kindness Wanda showered you with. “Are you alright today, sweetie? I can’t even begin to imagine how horrible you must be feeling. You know that if there’s ever anything you need, I’m right here for you. We all miss her so much. We got your back, Y/N.”

“Who is ‘we’?” Natasha grumbled low enough beneath her breath so that it was only hearable to her girlfriend. 

“Thanks, Wanda. You’re always so nice to me. I think I’m just a bit checked out today. Here’s to hoping the day goes by quickly.”

“It will if we skip class,” Thor pointed out. 

“As president of the student body I could never endorse that,” Wanda giggled. As a hand held a few of her books, Natasha’s arm wrapped carefully across her waist, she placed the other one on your arm with friendly banter. “You take care of yourself, honey. Take some breaks throughout the day, drink some water, and focus up on good things. The day will go by before you even know it.”

Never did you notice the hunger which Natasha eyed you with as she found herself exhilarated by the way her girlfriend held you so close – the disgust she felt towards your friend was lost in the air. Gripping Wanda’s waist, she silently begged for permission to strike. A knowing look from the shorter brunette forced her to lay back and wait. Soon enough they’d have you. 

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

“Did you hear the news?”

Those five words were ones you hadlong accustomed yourself to feel great disdain for. Upon the sound of them through the door of the last class of the day, you shuddered. You didn’t dare look up, losing yourself within the dread that overtook your soul. The seat next to your own had been empty throughout the period. 

Thor never skipped without giving you a head’s up. 

Upon hearing through hushed whispers and more stares your way, you ran out of the bathroom. The hint of bile which rose from your throat was held off until you reached a stall where you threw yourself, dumping out all the remaining torturous grief still carried from Kate’s loss alongside Thor’s. News spread quickly through the school, of course they did, but being shown a picture posted on a sock account on social media of Thor sprawled across the football field, eyes wide shut with a pair of knives lodged in his chest made you fall. 

You hadn’t found it in you to remove yourself from the floor. The walls across you turned, mocking your misery. The image of your best friend was clear in your mind. He was sweet, a caring man who wouldn’t dare hurt a fly, a complete lovable idiot who spent his days either playing sports or taking Jane out to whatever movie was being shown that weekend. No one hated him, but then again, no one had a reason to hate Kate either. 

Seeing him that morning so full of life made it impossible for you to humor the death, the macabre gore you had taken a slight look on someone’s phone, upon his cadaver. 

The day had ended there, the school dismissed halfway through the final class. The student body couldn’t be more thrilled to escape their prison as they grieved Thor’s surprise death in their own ways. As you strode through the halls ignoring the loudspeaker, calling your name to the school counselor’s office, and numerous classmates sobbing against the lockers, you carried on a somber expression. No sound was hearable, no hint of emotions or life within your features as people tried expressing their pity your way. 

Wanda’s cheerfulness creepily crawled out as she held onto Natasha’s hand, dragging her away to follow you. They’d get what they wished for, what they had longed for years. It was only a matter of time before they broke you entirely. 

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

“I’m really sorry about what happened, kid. I can’t imagine it’s easy to lose the two most important people in your life like that. You know, we’re all here to talk about it if you’d like. Me, your mom, your dad, and some of your other friends. You’re not alone, okay?”

 And yet it felt that way. 

You couldn't muster hearing another word that came from your therapist. Since Kate’s death she had been there every step of the way. Although not by choice, you visited Dr. Danvers twice a week for almost a year. She was nice enough, the sole person who at least pretended to not pity you in a believable manner. But you knew that beneath every ‘sorry’ thrown your way, there was feigned sadness. 

“Do you want to tell me more about Thor?” Carol questioned softly. Each bout of words were like a dozen daggers crackling through your skin, a painfully lonely existence without your favorite two people alive. “We can talk about something else if you’d like.”

“It’s fine.” Those were the first words you had spoken upon your arrival – almost half an hour into the session. “I just miss him. I miss her.” It took all your willpower to not break down in front of your therapist. Never would you dare bring yourself to uttering their names again. “He died the day he went away. How is that even possible? I just…I can’t do this anymore. I can’t go back to school and have everyone staring at me like I’m a sad freak. Just the thought of going back makes me think of them. Why did it happen? Why on that day?”

Carol held herself back from speaking, taking a second to revise her verbiage before responding. “Honey it was probably just a coincidence. Maybe someone was playing a sick joke. I really don’t have a good answer for you, I’m sorry.”

All that went through your brain was the image of Thor ingrained, burnt to ashes into your mind. Countless nights had been spent with lifeless eyes staring into the ceiling, boring your misery into your sole safe place. When tormented with agonizing experiences, you simply hid beneath the covers of the bed which shielded you from the outside. Numerous calls and texts from friends and family members had gone unanswered. Not even your parents could do more than to leave a plate of food by your door that was returned half-eaten. 

“Do you have thoughts about hurting yourself, Y/N?”

Within the depths of your darkest desires you wished to pull the knife from Thor’s body and throw it Carol’s way. “Are you fucking kidding me? How dare you?”

“It’s just something we have to cover because-”

“Because what? Jesus, Carol, my girlfriend disappeared a year ago and I had to see my best friend dead in the fucking school yard. And the only thing you care about is whether I’m killing myself or not?” The selfishness of it caused your distress to turn to fury as hands turned to fists. She cared about her job before your own well-being, about making sure you didn’t do anything which could taint her reputation. “I’m done with this. Don’t bother about rescheduling for later this week.”

Storming out the therapist’s office, you didn’t pay any mind to a peculiar couple sitting together at the waiting room, a redhead’s arm wrapped around a brunette. When green eyes twinkled, the smaller woman mumbled. “That's our next target. We can have a bit more fun with this one. Let’s make the bitch bleed, shall we?”

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

A gruesome amount of blood coated the horribly sharp beam across her features. Wanda looked down, pleased to watch the pattern her partner followed. She had long memorized what to do, what tools to use, where to carry out such fun, and how to clean up. Never would she get caught with the intricate manner in which the young woman took her victims. Since her rather adventurous adolescence she had grown used to the mesmerizing way a person lost their sanity, their life, at her hands. 

“Right there, baby. One across her neck like that,” she tenderly instructed. “Just like I taught you.”

Natasha had come to her in the early years of high school. The firecracker was easily set off by her constant anger targeted at everyone around her, but as a confident force herself, Wanda tamed the beast that lay within the redhead. Little by little she was morphed into a willing pet who, although impulsive, required care and guidance over their fun pastime. 

Rather than follow the advice, Natasha kept slapping the knife down on Carol’s chest. Unadulterated fury was thrown over the therapist after she had made you cry. The fixation with you had begun in her younger years, always watching you prance around the halls, a lone-wolf who she knew desired to be claimed. No one dare step up and take what the world knew was rightfully hers. Her wishes were solely to get you on your knees, to push you down far enough to the point you required her support to get back up. She wouldn’t let a lowly shrink and your friend get between that. Wanda only went on with her obsession. 

“Don’t tell me how to do it. I’m not an idiot,” Natasha spat between gritted teeth. Her body was coated in a fresh set of scarlet paint. Although she was new to taking such a brutalistic approach to her need for you, she wouldn’t allow herself to be dominated by someone like Wanda. Of course little did the redhead know that she was fully wrapped around her girlfriend’s finger already, their shared grip upon you being far too delicious to let go – the thought of you always fresh in their minds as one got the other off. 

“Watch your tone.” While much softer, Wanda wouldn’t dare allow herself to be treated lowly.  “Here, let mommy help. Don’t you want to be a good girl for me? Don’t you remember that it was me who showed you how to get your prized puppy?”

“Yes.”

Wanda’s smirk was wide at that. To have both you and Natasha under her control was far too exquisite – she drowned in the power she held, playing god as she took the lives of those who defied her. “Yes what?”

“Yes, mommy.”

As soon as the defeated words were sighed, the thumping against the chest cavity of the blonde was put to a rest. Natasha sagged her head as she ran a palm oozing with blood against her face, humming at the safety it brought her. Soon enough they’d break you; soon enough you’d be theirs.

Taking a life in her hands with a lost one beneath, Wanda, the deity, tilted her head. She ran a hesitant thumb across Natasha’s cheek to take in all the exhaustion carried upon those muscular shoulders, her arms weak as she submitted. The shining promise rings upon each of their left hands signified the momentous devotion towards the other. Long had they waited for freedom. 

The separation the two of them had with you was torturous. Unabashed ire was cast upon those who they saw fit to be their lab rats. Nothing but trash which they rummaged through to find the perfect way to have you. Such displaced aggression was only the beginning of their turbulence coming undone. 

“There’s my good girl. Now look at how mommy does it, Natalia. Cut her like this.” Wanda allowed Natasha to remove herself from on top the therapist. The taller of the two kneeled before her master, green eyes in a frenzy as they watched on carefully. The previously dull, red blade was substituted by a mint knife coming from Wanda’s side. Although wearing just a plaid skirt, a white button-down, and high-knee socks covered by Converse, she found it to be a perfect outfit. Nothing could compare to the surprise they’d have for you. “See?”

Wanda took her time, exuding patience across the office as she dragged the freshly sharpened blade across Carol’s neck. Choked sobs, her breathing becoming shallower by the second as she could barely take in any air, was music to the young women’s ears. The orchestra that was desperation mixed with ghastly sloshing sounds whenever the skin was punctured was exquisite. 

With her chest covered with ruptures, Carol was nearly thrown over the edge, Wanda holding her back so she could spend her last few moments facing harrowing pain. 

“That’s beautiful. I like how red it is,” Natasha pointed out as she licked her lips, noting exactly how her partner danced the knife on Carol’s throat – not too deep or shallow. “Is she in pain? How can you tell if this hurts more than what I was doing?”

“You didn’t take your time, sweetheart. You need to go slow, let them feel every single second of it. The poor thing can barely breathe, let alone call out for help. You did good there, but you can’t let yourself get carried away like that. Give your pets special care. Have some fun with them,” Wanda explained as she drew copious bouts of blood from Carol’s neck, the woman losing consciousness as her eyelids grew heavier with the stench of death surrounding the four walls. “The red treat is really yummy too, but not hers. This one is tainted, she hurt our prized possession. That’s why she has to pay. Anyone who keeps us away from our angel needs to suffer the consequences. When we get to Y/N you can taste her. Maybe I’ll even let you take the lead once you’ve had more training. Would you like that, daddy?”

“Yes,” Natasha was breathless with excitement. “Yes, mommy.”

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

With the end of school looming over, you spent your days crawling across the woodboards of the house. Since the unfaithful day where you had to first hand experience the shame of waltzing around the packed hallways wallowing in your own grief, you hadn’t left the safety of the four walls of your bedroom unless it was to go outdoors for a few minutes, gathering food, and simply returning to your cave. 

A handful of your other friends had visited. Steve brought flowers and your favorite dessert, Bucky by his side offering a sympathetic smile while handing you a bag filled to the brim with only your favorite foods, movies, fuzzy socks, and even a stuffed animal. Little by little, they trinkled by, but as time kept moving forth, they left you behind. 

Thor’s funeral was the only chance you gave yourself to escape the house. Throughout the somber ordeal at the town’s sole cemetery you gripped Jane’s hand, remaining unfazed as she sobbed against your shoulder. ‘Bring him back’, she repeated, the mantra stuck in your mind for sleepless days, arms wrapped around a goat stuffed animal Thor had once won for you at a carnival. The pain which his girlfriend felt, the misery embodied by her pleas and cries over his casket, was an exemplary manner in which the two of you were joined by the hip. 

Even afterwards the two of you strode aimlessly around the area, Jane attempting to let out incoherent words of sadness through choked cries, you didn’t have an ounce of emotions that barreled down what you concluded was a cold heart. You didn’t dare cry at the funeral, the rain allowing you to camouflage beneath its wetness and remain hidden in shame. Tears had already dried up when Kate disappeared. You only wished Thor could forgive you for the lack of sentiment that you displayed. 

Then yet again it was time to return home to your depressed, ragged, unconscious state. 

You parents had long given up on so little as attempting to interact with you. They didn’t have to spew their venomous words for you to realize that being by your side drained them. The agony which you were in was humorous to them. Late nights you find yourself hearing them chat from down the hall in their rooms, mumbling about how you’d be better off moving away, how they were the ones to suffer at the loss of their daughter, not you when never so much as being allowed to say goodbye to your loved ones. 

Rather than incite an argument which would not easily culminate, you hid out in your bedroom until the day they set off on their vacation. You were old enough to be alone, and yet you knew that according to Carol it was best to be surrounded with support – the thought of the woman made you frown momentarily, rummaging through the hot mess that had been your last appointment. Oh how you wished she’d answer your texts apologizing for your outburst with the hopes of scheduling another session. Radio silence was your best friend. 

In the moment your parents went away, you merely hugged them goodbye. Without their judgemental gazes you allowed yourself to further grow, to explore areas of the house you had barely set foot on during the lowest moments of your life. Truth be told most of your hours were spent on the terrace watching mother nature’s cool dance welcoming the summer – Kate’s favorite season. 

When nightfall overtook the town of Westview you sprawled yourself over the bed. The lack of parental guidance gave you the motivation to take everything at your own pace, to sparse out the food through the day, but still make an effort to keep yourself alive. If only your parents didn’t wish to shove a plate of food down your throat every waking moment then perhaps your mind wouldn’t refuse the slightest bit of pasta curated for yourself. 

It was a shame, really. Not taking care of yourself only left room for someone to swoop in and do it for you. With a peculiar redhead and a lanky brunette sitting in a heating car outside your home, they volunteered to take the vacant position.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

“Shhh you have to be quiet, baby. Otherwise you’ll wake up mommy and then I’ll have to punish you. Do you want that, sweet one? Oh I don’t think you do. You’re a good girl. I know you can behave for mommy and daddy.”

Stuck in your dreams, the imagined soothing voice of Wanda Maximoff brought you peace. You hummed at it, snuggling closer to your stuffed animal, your guardian, as you pretended for it to be her. She’d be the sole saving grace of your livelihood regardless of the interesting choice of words spewed your way. 

“Pretty girl. Just look at how fucking pathetic she looks. Can we start now, mommy?” At the sound of Natasha’s voice, you frowned. The tenderness within it was not lost in you. “I want to destroy her, to take every single ounce of life she has left and make it my own. When can we take her away?”

“Silence, malyshka. We have to be patient with our angel. She’ll come to us when she’s ready. For now we just have some fun, perhaps train her a bit,” as serene as the words were spoken, the devilish nature that lay beneath was a cause for panic. In all your nightmares you had been feasted with images of an onyx creature with a ghostly mask, but never your classmates. It almost felt…real. “Would you like to start?”

Burning hands crossed your body, pulling down the sheets hiding it along with your pajamas. Within the clarity that you face, a groan came. Eyes fluttered across the dark room as you were groped, hips squeezed when a phantom creature danced against you. A bulge settled between your legs, mocking your existence with a different set of gloved hands that wrapped around your throat. 

When meeting the two figures upon your bed, breaking the illusion of a dream, you screamed – yet no sound came from your taped mouth. 

Your trunks were torn apart, a humiliating wet patch forming upon your underwear that was mocked with insistent laughter. The two ghost-like beasts pulled at it, nearly ripping it off as their pleased noises filled the frightening air. 

“Fill her up, sweetheart.” Wanda’s familiar voice instructed, her face, you noticed, covered with the same sinister mask you had once dreamed of. “Show her who she belongs to. After all we’ve done, don’t you think it’s time to have a little reward? Be a good girl and destroy our pet, daddy.”

“Yes, mommy.”

Natasha followed the steps she had rehearsed many times when using Wanda as a guiding proxy. She helped her robes up, plucking the zipper of her pants that lay beneath and swooping them down. A rather large, girthy dildo sprung from the confines of its makeshift prison. It was jerked off by a rather flushed Natasha whose face contorted into a desperate one. 

As an audience member Wanda sat back and enjoyed the way her perfectly trained animal rubbed your cunt, all slick and drenching itself more by the second. She ignored your muffled pleas and squirms, using sturdy cuffs to restrain you against the headboard of the bed. You looked much better all tied up anyway. 

Wanda found herself enthralled by the fear in your eyes, her own downcast, dark, and dripping with delight. Tenderness touched your wet cheek that was overtaken by tears. Although you couldn’t see her face, the sympathy displayed through the Ghostface mask caused your heart to slow down, to normalize as she overcame you.

“Look at you. You’re nothing but a filthy whore who is begging to be fucked. That’s what I told Wanda the first time we talked about you. She laughed, but it’s true. This desperate puffy pussy is proof of that,” Natasha growled as she swiped a thumb across your slit, coating it with your juices before swirling it against your cunt. Involuntarily your body shuddered; the redhead would never let you live that down. “How many times did you fantasize about this, huh? For mommy and daddy to claim this slutty body once and for all? You’re so pathetic. I’m barely touching you and your little cunt is already this wet. How cute.”

“Oh I want a go at her once you’re done, malyshka,” Wanda hummed, one of her hands landing atop Natasha’s to feel your oozing apex. “For now I think I’ll stick to marking her. Our names deserve to be on our property, don’t you think?”

“Ours.”

Fire trickled across your skin as the tip of the dildo was rubbed against your throbbing cunt. Natasha was desperate to fill you up, so rather than keep her needs at bay basking on foreplay, she simply grunted, slapping her cock against your clit before lining it up against your aching hole. 

No matter how hard you tried to moan, it was all for nothing. 

A knife was produced from Wanda’s belt swiftly as the way they slipped into your room at night. She sat back watching in awe as her partner pumped her entire cock into your depths, grabbing you harshly until the whole length filled your pussy. Tilting her head, a tongue stuck out to lick her lips. It was far too late to dare remove the tape without alerting the neighbors and potentially being caught – not to mention Natasha’s demeanor would turn sour and her hands would quickly wrap themselves around your neck until your breathing ceased – but oh she knew you’d be so loud for them. 

The cool blade of the knife felt wonderful against you. It was hesitant at first, exploring the expanse of your body as you, lying in wait, taking in a deep breath. Nostrils were fueled by pure hypnotic rage. All but your mind gave into Wanda. She was intoxicating, a true image of beauty even covered from head to toe with onyx garments. 

Numerous cuts were left upon your body by a blade that resembled those which were twisted upon Thor’s chest, the ones that were later compared to the wounds Dr. Danvers carried on her mutilated body only days after she had brutally murdered, her body thrown across an alley with nothing, not even her dignity, left the cover the humiliation. 

“That’s it, you little whore. Take daddy’s cock just like that. Oh you’re nothing but a good fleshlight, huh?” Natasha spewed out, slapping a gloved hand across your face before smirking beneath her mask – an action you practically heard in her tone. “You like it when daddy stuffs your tight pussy with her cock? Huh? A cumrag just for us. I can’t wait until you finally give in. we’re going to ruin this slutty pussy for everyone.”

“Maybe we can fill her up with your pups one day, daddy,” Wanda piped up as she maniacally cut your body. You were adorned with bloody carvings of varying sizes, one of those being a heart with the words ‘Mommy & Daddy’s Pet’ alongside ‘Wanda & Nat were here <3’ right beneath the breasts which she groped. “Do you want to have your daddy’s babies, sweetheart?” The lack of hardness within her voice drove you mad. All you could do was nod, a mind completely blank with the way Natasha fucked you. “Yeah? There’s a good girl. So good for her mommy and daddy. Oh we’ll take such good care of you. Now no one can take you away from us. It’s just us against the world.”

It was the first time you happily felt anything in months.

Bloody breasts were squeezed, Wanda quivering with excitement as she encouraged Natasha to keep going. The innocent stench of your scarlet fluid took the brunette aback. She was drunk in it, desperately wishing to tug at her mask to get a taste. Instead she settled for playing with it, although the gloves preventing the feel of your blood disappointed her. One day she’d drain every last drop within you to manically explore your body. 

With a lazy thumb running against your clit, Natasha’s cock stuffing your cunt until you were a sobbing mess, and Wanda’s cheers as she maimed you, you easily give yourself in for the women to take, arching your back and letting out a choked moan once you came undone. And yet that never stopped them. If anything, your admirers had only begun. 

Both spent hours merely using your body as though it was another limp mess for them to dispose of, a fleshlight ready to please them. They switched positions eventually, Natasha angling herself perfectly so as to shove her strap on down your throat once taking off the tape to keep you quiet, your juices coating her cock that you tasted, while Wanda gave your gaping cunt the same treatment with her fingers once removing her gloves. Regardless of how long it had passed and how spent you were, you didn’t dare force them to leave. 

Their visceral need to own every ounce, every breath, every fiber of your soul drove them to claim you. Watching you from afar, taking pictures, settling for others or each other to hide the itch for you was torturous enough. It was about time they got your attention once and for all that didn’t come from Natasha annoying you constantly to get a reaction, or Wanda sweetly interacting with her soon-to-be pet as a means to hold even an ounce of you. 

Once you were barely conscious, heavy eyelids threatening to close as you gargled over Natasha’s dick, it all came to an end. 

“Such a good girl,” Wanda mumbled, a hand caressing your face, thumb brushing against a cheek. Although the mask remained intact, you heard her fiery features temper down. “Y/N, you’re a perfect pet just like I thought you’d be.”

“Hmm just look at that. You’re already tainted,” Natasha pointed out as she ran a hand against your nude, fileted body. The bed was a mess, blood drying out among the sheets, your being stuck frozen without a sound coming past your lips. All you did was grunt, throat hoarse and exhaustion overtaking you. With a proud smile, both women were pleased with how far they broke you. “Should we give her the surprise, mommy?”

“The poor thing deserves it. Look at how much she’s been through. Oh don’t worry, sweetness, mommy will nurse you back to perfect health. Then in a few days we can put even more pretty scars on your body,” Wanda giddily announced. Cupping your face, she leaned in dangerously close until her mask brushed against your fallen face. “We have a little friend here who’s been dying to play with you. Be a good girl and say hi.”

From the shadows a third figure arose. It carried the same mask as the others, its waltz slow to the tempo of the swirling air felt through the crack of your window. It simply remained standing at the foot of your bed, a hand waving you a greeting, excitement fueling deep beneath the face covering. 

Upon the removal of the mask, your tired eyes widened, Natasha and Wanda having to hold you down from moving with devilish mocking looks upon their faces. 

“Hi Y/N.” The voice was once you dearly longed to hear again. “Did you miss me?”

[bombsonboard]

metal arm brrr

Summary: Every problem needs a solution. Bucky just isn't the biggest fan of yours.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 1k

Tags: Fluff in the highest degree, old married couple, Swearing (It's Bucky, duh)

A/N: I just needed to give you guys something, it's been too long since i've written on here and you guys are the best :) I've barely checked this over so I apologize for any typos.

*****

“Can you stop moving, please?” 

Bucky Barnes half asleep is not someone you want to mess with. The first time you shuffled he had hardly made a sound, the second you were met with a low grumble (a warning you knew well) and the third strike, he was thirty seconds from kicking you out of the bed. 

When Bucky had finally learnt to sleep in a bed again, mostly thanks to you, he steadily became a big fan of his beauty sleep and god help anyone who ended up disturbing him. He had a lot to catch up on. Once, you had violently shaken him awake because his phone was ringing and when he heard Sam on the other line, you were deemed a ‘sleep thief’ for a week and a half after. Bucky Barnes was a bitch when it came to his sleep. 

You usually wouldn't have any complaints about being in his vice grip but it was January and the nights were still cold and having a boyfriend with a metal arm meant that you were held to him with an ice cold grip around your waist. When the Summer came, it was a life saver, your own personal refrigerator but you still had a good few months to go before you were hanging off his arm everyday. 

“Sorry.” You mumbled and tried to convince yourself you were comfortable without another word.

Nope, can’t do it. You shift again. 

“You’re kidding- what is it?” He pulls away from you and sits up on his elbow, glaring, he dares you. “Go on.”

With the most innocent doe eyes you could muster you slip your bottom lip between your teeth and debate the argument you could spark when your gaze slips to his vibranium arm in the semi darkness.

He doesn’t miss a thing, you’ve come to realize.

“I swear if you say-”

“-It’s cold! I’m cold! It’s just too much cold!” You burst, arms flailing in desperation. 

“It’s my arm! You said you wanted to sleep on my left, this is my left arm, nothing I can do. Okay?”

“There has to be something.” You search the room for solutions, briefly lingering on the sock drawer. 

“Oh yeah, sorry, let me just take it off.” Bucky grunts, dripping with sarcasm. 

“...If you could?”

“Seriously, fuck you.” 

Bucky falls back into his beloved pillow, eyes shut and wishing he has chosen a partner that let him sleep peacefully, then again, why would he want that when you exist?

“Look, either come to the other side or deal with it.” 

Silence finally reaches your bedroom and Bucky is deeply in dreamland while you lie awake, scheming away. 

In the early hours, you slip out of bed without a sound and make a beeline for the sock drawer, knowing you had some old pairs of slipper socks stuffed at the back. Scissors in hand, you snipped off the toes and smiled at the D.I.Y leg warmers. Oh, he was gonna be mad. 

With nearly medical precision, you held out the slumbering Bucky’s arm in front of you and one by one, slid the fluffy socks up the freezing metal until it was sufficiently covered. Thanking the universe, he was a pretty heavy sleeper, you shuffled back under the covers and happily wrapped the soft arm back around your waist. 

You slept like a lamb after that.

*****

When the morning came, you woke up before him like usual and briefly left him to his own devices as you made coffee, two mugs sitting on the counter beside each other. 

Through the wall, you faintly hear the rising of the soldier before heavy footsteps quickly storm in your direction.

“The fuck is this?”

You look up to see him in the doorway, and find yourself the subject of a stare that would send millions running. Not you. The multicolored socks lined up his arm kind of softened his hoped effect and you had to stifle your laughter. 

“A solution?” You shrug.

“No.” He points at you with his flesh arm accusingly “Nu-uh. This? This is not how we solve things.”

“Is it not? I’m really digging the rainbow on you.” The giggle you had tried to push down had spilled over.

“You’re a fucking menace.” 

The giggle now a full bodied laugh that had you clutching at your chest as you were overcome with the image of your big, scary, ‘world’s most deadly assassin’ boyfriend glaring daggers at you while donning the most fluffy and most colorful socks up his arm.

Bucky was fighting a grin with all his might, your laughter was like an ugly disease, incredibly contagious, hard to avoid, and annoying.

Something soft hits you in the face and you halt your hysterics as you peer at the slipper sock now at your feet. Lifting your gaze, Bucky is smiling smugly, and working a second sock off his arm. 

“Bucky!” You yelp and duck under the counter as the rainbow sock flies in slow motion over your head. 

You probably shouldn’t poke the bear but-

“Y’know, for the best shot the United States army had ever seen you sure do miss a lot.” You taunt from your hiding spot.

When there's no response, you make a break for the couch and get shot squarely in the forehead.

“Say that again.” He dares with narrowed eyes.

“Okay, truce. Truce!” You raise your hands in surrender. 

“Say sorry for last night.” The pink ball of fluff in his hands, a deadly fate, and you’re consigned to concede

“I apologize for last night.” You sigh, approaching him with caution “Now, it’s been ten whole minutes and you still haven’t subjected me to your obscene morning breath.”

He beckons you with his head and you happily plod over, throwing your arms around his neck. The kiss is sweet, and full of promised mornings to come.

It’s welcomed by you. Until you feel the coldest thing known to man, his left arm, writhing under your shirt and sending immediate shivers down your back. 

“Bucky!” You screech and his strong laughter descends on your morning with malice.

Desperately wiggling out of his hold, you escape to the bedroom and yell from your stronghold:

“That was an act of war James Buchanan Barnes!”

[thanosscross]

My Pain in the ass - Choi Seung Hyun/T.O.P x reader part 2

Summary: After getting sick, Seung Hyun was quick to make sure his favorite girl was taken care of, not realizing he was showing not only you but his bandmates also, how much he truly cared about and loved you

Warnings: None <33

The next day you had the morning off, thankfully, being able to spend it with the boys after what felt like forever of nonstop working. Tiredly sitting up in your bed, you looked around for any of the boys, only seeing empty beds instead.

You made your way out of the room, your blanket being tightly wrapped around you as you entered the living room, looking at the four boys pouting "Why didn't anybody wake me up for breakfast?" You mumbled, watching as they all sat around, left overs from their breakfast sitting on the table, you slowly made your way to Seung Hyun silently, telling you were still exhausted, he just raised his arm, knowing better than to mess with you while you're still waking up. Moving to lay down against his side you sighed "You were still sleeping, we figured put yours in the warmer until you were up" Seung Hyun assured, going back to focus on his book, you just curled up against him, closing your eyes again.

"Y/n/n" You heard a deep voice pulling you back out of your sleep, feeling two lips press against your forehead before being shaken lightly "Sweetheart, wake up, we have to get going" Seung Hyun huffed, glancing at the clock and then the boys "I told you! Like a cat!" He huffed crossing his arms, trying to stay annoyed but as you shifted, taking his hand in yours, even in your sleep, it melted his heart. "Well she's got to get up" Ji-Yong frowned walking over "Why has she been sleeping so much?" He asked as he went to pat your cheek, as his hand made contact with your cheek, he felt how warm you were "Nooo! Shit!" he cursed, you all had a show tonight and rehearsals in an hour, and you were still asleep feeling like you just came out of an oven or heater. Looking in their friend's direction, they slowly walked over, watching Ji-Yong run a hand through his hair "She's sick. Think about it, whenever she got sick last time? She basically slept for three days straight" He huffed, crossing his arms "We're going to have to call YG, they're going to be pissed it's so last minute" He rambled, it wasn't that he was upset with you, just stressed as hell, he knew this would upset a lot of fans, especially the ones specifically coming to see you.

You were left at home, Seung Hyun making sure you had everything you needed before they left for rehearsals and their show. Their show went good, YG staff only being slightly frustrated with your absence, but Seung Hyun couldn't help but feel guilty as he performed. Ever since you joined BigBang, you and Seung Hyun had based your chorography off of each others, so with you not being there, he felt like he was leaving you out and like he was alone. The feeling didn't leave his chest until they all arrived back home around 3 in the morning, as he kicked his shoes off at the door, he made his way towards the bundle of blankets on the couch, noticing your water and dinner still untouched he sighed. As the living room light came on, you groaned loudly, trying to pull the blanket tighter over your head "No, come on" Seung Hyun demanded sternly, for the first time since you met Seung Hyun he grabbed your hand, pulling you off of the couch and on your feet "You're taking a warm bath, and eating, then two cups of water, and you're going to bed" He explained, tiredly walking to the bathroom, leaving you standing in the doorway as he disappeared into the bedroom, whenever he came back in, he held your swim suit and some night clothes. "Change into these, and call for me" He said as he handed you the swimsuit before stepping out of the bathroom, he hated seeing you sick, you always looked so sad and miserable compared to your usual giddy self, not to mention you would stop taking care of yourself entirely due to lack of energy.

Whenever Seung Hyun helped you out of the bath, you tiredly leaned against him, grunting softly as he wrapped an arm around your waist helping you move to the bedroom, holding the towel around you as tight as he could along with his robe he had grabbed for you. That was the others' sign that Seung Hyun had finally fallen for you, that man hated being sick, and germs, whenever one of the boys were sick, he had made a point to get a hotel room, just so he wouldn't get sick. Here he was though, helping you move around, helping you wash your hair, without a single complaint. Seung Hyun wouldn't dare complain, he knew you needed him, you had told him multiple times you felt safe around him, even admitting he was one of the only guys you trusted with your life and safety, knowing he wouldn't dare risk either of them. As you tried to crawl onto the bed, Seung Hyun stopped you "Aein, You can't sleep in a soaking swim suit" He chuckled as he grabbed your clean nightclothes, closing his eyes before he started taking off your swimsuit and changing it out for a pair of sweatpants and one of his hoodies. Once the hoodie was pulled down over your chest, Seung Hyun opened his eyes again, leaning forward quickly to let his shoulder catch your head that slowly fell forward.

"Oh, Aein" He whispered sadly, helping you back onto the bed, keeping his hands on your shoulders as you slowly leaned back until your head hit the pillows "Sweetheart, You need to keep yourself hydrated" He whispered, shaking his head as you just pulled the covers over your face tiredly. Knowing you wouldn't budge, Seung Hyun just climbed into your bed next to you, sighing as he placed his arm over your waist.

It took three days for you to be back to your usual self, Seung Hyun quick to return to his usual self as soon as he noticed you were okay. As you approached the rehearsal studio you made eye contact with the boys, all four of them smiling excited to see you back up and moving. As you entered the room, you immediately rushed to Seung Hyun, hugging him tightly "Noo! Go away! Germs! Get away!" He shouted raising his arms in the air, you just squeezed him tighter "Thank you for taking care of me" You smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his hands, respecting his wishes of not wanting to get sick. Seung Hyun rolled his eyes playfully "I just didn't want to continue doing your parts for shows, your dancing is way too feminine for me" He joked, you just giggled, knowing damn well one of his favorite things to do was to mimic your chorography, especially whenever he was drunk. "Thank you.." You repeated, hugging him one last time before turning around to thank the others for helping you with you not going to the show. As you went through rehearsals, you couldn't help but notice Seung Hyun's eyes on you as you followed the moves you had learned a few weeks prior. As you spun your hands in front of you slowly, you rolled your body forwards with each step you took before spinning around, swinging your arm above your head as you swiveled your hips around. Looking over your shoulder behind you at the mirror, where the crowd would be if you were performing, as the bass of the song started to fade, you slowly kneeled down before holding your pose as the music ended.

Whenever you turned around, Seung Hyun had his hand over his mouth, gripping his own jaw as he dragged his hand down his face watching you closely. "Stop staring like that!" You gasped blushing brightly as you caught him, He just blushed as he looked away from you "I can't help it! It's so..different!" He protested as you marched over, poking his chest playfully "You're different" You joked, taking his hand in yours, much to his protest "And you're weird" He shot back, laughing as you gasped in shock "How rude of you!" You laughed, blushing brightly whenever you felt his hands on your waist, swaying you softly as you both spoke to each other.

Whenever you arrived home, it was like usual, you had gone straight to the couch, flopping onto Seung Hyun's much to his disliking. "Why are you so obsessed with touching mee!?" He shouted as he whined, trying to move himself out from under you without causing you to fall. "Because You're hot and nice" You huffed, hugging him tightly "Why won't you accept my love?!" It was your turn to shout and whine, growing frustrated with him, he had been acting weird with you all day, and it was starting to upset you now. "Because I love you in a different way!" He huffed before realizing what he had said, you looked at him in shock, letting his words process in your mind before you took a deep breath "Like how?" You asked, messing with the threads of his sweater nervously "Like..I want to kiss you like the other day but all of the time" Seung Hyun admitted shyly, you hid your blush behind your hands before looking at him "Why don't you?..You don't have to ask me...not you" You whispered, biting your bottom lip as you watched his eyes flicker between your eyes and lips, taking a moment before pressing his lips against yours firmly. As your lips moved together, Seung Hyun held onto you tightly as you laid on top of him, your lips feeling like pure clouds against his. Slowly pulling away, you bit your bottom lip giggling "I love you too" You whispered shyly, noticing his bright smile that you swore was contagious.

--

Lovelies? You like? <33 I'm heading to bed though lovelies as it's currently 3AM my time, but I hope you enjoy this story, and make sure to keep your eyes out for some smutty requests I'll be posting later today along with more parts to both T.O.P and Ji-Yong stories <3 ;) goodnight! <3 I shall talk to you lovelies in a bit! <3

--

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@heartsforseo

@frangiipanii

@seunghyunwifey

@sturnioloslut-b

@isssaaaa2111

[apricot-blossomss]

are you still taking requests? if so, can you do something about Apollo? anything really

☛ mortal!f!reader is captured by the greeks and they experience the wrath of apollo

☛ sfw; tw: violence, threats of sa, disease; takes place in the iliad so i guess this is officially iliad fanfiction in which not chryseis gets kidnapped as a bride prize but you, apollo's mortal lover; i really like writing morally ambigous apollo for some reason

The rope burned into your wrist as you tried to budge but it was to no avail. Agamemnon's squire, a young man who had been tasked with binding you to the pole, had done a good job at it. Only stubbornness had you still tugging on your bindings. But when you felt blood trickle down your wrists, you halted your movement and opted to look around the tent instead.

It had several rooms, full of treasures he had stolen from your people. A home fit for a king, or as close as possible in these circumstances. The duvet was decked with expensive blankets and golden trinkets covered the floor. With a sigh, you let your head fall against the pole and closed your eyes, letting out a long sigh.

You had lost track of time, but it couldn't have been half a day since you had been captured. Just this morning you had woken up to the chatter and street noises of your home of Lyrnessus. You had pulled back the curtains and relished in the warmth of the sun on your face, quite like a good morning kiss from your lover. Until the Greeks had sacked the city. In an attempt to hide, you had flown down to the cellar and hid in a barrel, but Agamemnons soldiers had found you and abducted you to their camp where they had chained you down in their leaders tent.

Was it evening now? The air was cooler than before, but you couldn't see. Was that the crackling of bondfires? You pulled your legs to your chest and tried to get comfortable. If you were to flee or fight anyone, you would need your rest. But it was hard, when worry and sadness about the fate of your city and people threatened to overwhelm you, fueled by fear and anxiety about your position.

Last night, you had slept in a bed, clean, soft and with your lover by your side. The thought of Apollo gave you a little hope. He wouldn't let anyone touch you, right? That's what he had promised a few nights ago, when the air was humid and your face rested against his warm chest, blankets discarded because it was too hot, skin on skin, nothing between you two.

Your thoughts had carried you away, and of course he had taken notice and lifted your chin to meet your eyes. "Tell me," was all he had said, and you had only shaken your head and leaned your temple on his bicep, looking up into his golden eyes. And the moment you had, you and him had both known what was going on in each others head. It just happened.

"Don't worry," he had said, running a hand through your damp hair. "I wont let anything happen to you." You had nodded, though not wholly convinced, and angled your head upwards to kiss him, but he had hushed your attempts by tapping your lips with his index finger. "I mean it. If any of them lay their hands on you, I will wipe them off the face of this earth."

It had been weird. His voice had been so soothing, yet their meaning was so utterly destructive. "I'm scared," you had confessed. You had tried to deny it for a long time, reminding yourself of his love, but this was a war, and war wasn't kind to anyone- especially not to women. "Lyrnessus will be next, won't it?" It wasn't kind to homes either.

"I don't know," he had admitted. His eyes had taken on a darker shade of gold, his voice a grave tone. "But no matter what, I will always protect you, alright?"

"alright," you had answered, and he had leaned down to return your kiss. In order to calm yourself, you tried to remember the way he tasted, like honey, so sweet and warm. How he held you, tried to imagine his warm arms around you, not the pole digging into your back. and for a moment, you managed to find comfort, just from the thought of him, sitting in a cruel king's tent, hunched over and scared.

Until the covers of the entrance were pulled back and you came face to face with the commander in chief of the greeks, the king of Mycenae. You had expected more. Sure, he was of an imposing figure, but with all the stories you had heard, he was still just a man. You didn't know wether that was good thing when you saw his eyes trail over your body and his tongue wet his lips.

"Get me wine," he told his squire, eyes not leaving you as he stepped further into the room and sat down on the duvet to take off his armor. Now he was truly just a man. You opted to avoid looking at him, instead fixing your eyes onto one of the vases full of valuables. The squire hurried inside again and filled a cup with wine for his king.

"You must be uncomfortable, sitting on the ground," Agamemnon said to you, but it was not in a caring way. There was a mean and guileful tone to his voice.

"I'm not," you answered, trying to steady your voice. You couldn't show fear. You had the distinct notion that he would take great enjoyment in your terror. Never before had you wished so much for a coat, something to cover your cleavage with, because the way he was ogling it made chills run down your spine.

He laughed, and it was a raw, condescending laugh. "Hm, you're comfortable, huh? Wonder for how long, once I have my way with you." You prayed that the effect of his words wasn't visible on your face. A long sigh left his lips as he poured himself another cup of wine. "Look at me, girl."

You didn't and he chucked his cup onto the floor next to you. Both you and the obviously anxious squire of his flinched as the red liquid drenched your dress. Agamemnon laughed about your squirming attempts to get away from the puddle and his eyes devoured the sight of your wet, now see-through skirt. "You won't be playing tough much longer, girl," he mocked you and stood up to stand before you. "What, you got a lover you want to stay pure for? Should I send you back to him once I am thoroughly done with you?"

"He will make you pay," you said and finally met his eye, determinded to keep your gaze steady and firm. The situation was overwhelming and you hated how your lower lip started to tremble. "Everything you do to me, he will inflict on you tenfold."

Another laugh, and he kneeled down to your level. The proximity made you anxious, but you continued to stare him down without showing fear. "I don't see him anywhere," Agamemnon mocked and again, his tongue wet his lips, dry from the sand on from a thirst you could read in his eyes. "Is he a Trojan warrior? He will be dead soon, how will a corpse avenge you? Maybe I'll kill him myself."

"You can never kill him," you breathed. "And he will come for me."

"You think he'll still want you after everything I'm going to do to you?" the man sneered. He was so close you could smell the wine in his breath and you averted your face. "Ya' think that will do the trick?" he grinned and grabbed your chin to violently turn your face towards him.

Just then, the covers of the entrance were pulled back once more and an out of breath greek soldier, one of Agamemnon's Mycenaean warriors, if you were guessing right, stood in the entrance. "What do you think you're doing, soldier?" Agamemnon snarled at him, and the man babbled under his breath, asking for forgiveness.

"What do you want?" Agamemnon said in annoyance, already turning back to you again and still nearly crushing your jaw with his tight grip.

"Sir," he panted and held his side. "The fleet- we are under attack, I think, I don't know, but our men are dropping like flies and we don't know what is going on, several ships of soldiers have already been anihilated! It is a sickness, and it's spreading fast!"

"What?!" Agamemnon roared, jumping to his feet. His face was red with wine and anger. "Go ask Calchas, this must be a god's doing!"

As the soldier stormed out, you laughed breathlessly, laughed about yor captor's anger and confusion. Enraged, he turned to you and you gave him a mocking grin. You were about to open your mouth to ridicule him and his situation when he stormed over and grabbed a fistful of your hair, painfully tugging it so you were forced to look at him. "You little minx, you! You won't be laughing for much longer!"

WHACK!

Both you and Agamemnon jolted away when something hit the ground between your attacker's feet. When you looked down, a new sense of hope and courage flooded through you and your muscles relaxed. Agamemnon, however, shot up and let out a panicked gasp. It was a golden arrow, and you knew who the archer was.

Agamemnon wasn't stupid, and he knew what this meant. He turned around to his terrified squire who was staring at the arrow with widened eyes. "Untie her and get her to Calchas, now! And someone get me another cup of wine!"

As you were dragged out by the young man who folowed his king, you saw that the greek camp was in absolute disarray. Agamemnon pushed through soldiers who were running around in panic, informing each other of the havoc that was presumably being wreaked on the ships at this moment. When they saw him, the soldiers followed their commander in chief and a massive crowd formed when you reached the seer, Calchas.

Agamemnon walked towards him and seemed to explain the situation to him as other men, who seemed to be in command as well, pushed through the crowd to stand by them. You couldn't hear what they were talking about, but they seemed to be trying to persuade the seer to tell them the cause for the sudden destructive outburst. Just when a young man seemed ready to get his answers in a violent way, Calchas raised his hand and pointed at you.

The crowd fell silent and you felt several hundred eyes on you. "It's her," the seer rasped, "She brought death to the camp with her presence." So you had been right with your assumption.

"Why? What is with this girl?" one of the men in charge pressed. There was no malice in his eyes, only worry.

Calchas eyes met yours and he gasped. His hand was shaking. "You have captured the lover of the divine god Apollo himself. She must be returned immediately, or the pest will spread even faster among the troops. The wrath of Apollo knows no limits as long as she is held in this camp." Your heart warmed with pride of being called Apollo's lover- and with satisfaction at Agamemnon's shocked expression.

Anxious whispering broke out and you felt the squire's tight grip on your arm loosen slightly. All the commanders' eyes were on you. One of them spoke up. "Alright, we should act as quickly as possible. Let's release her into no man's land, make sacrafices to Apollo to soothe him and hope for his mercy." The other's mumbled words of approval and nodded, only Agamemnon spoke up.

"No."

"What do you mean, no?" a young man said sharply. "How is this not a clear decision?"

"The girl is my bride prize, she is mine by right!" Agamemnon shot back.

The squire next to you gasped, so loud that everyone turned to him. At first, you thought he was just being jumpy again, but then you saw the golden arrow that had pierced clean through his chest. And the growing patch of red on his tunic. You could only watch in shock as his grip on your upper arm slipped away and his knees buckled under him. Before his body hit the ground, he was dead.

☀️

A short time later, one of the officers escorted you out of the camp. You had gotten the cloak and water you had asked for without any hesitation, but had refused the valuables offered to you in an attempt to soothe your lover's destructive rage. Relief filled your heart, and you didnt know how you could have ever doubted that Apollo would save you.

After you had left the last of the tents behind, you walked another few hundred steps until you were out of sight of both the camp and Troy, in the midst of no man's land. "You are one lucky girl," your escort said as a goodbye and you nodded. "Yes, i am."

He walked away, back to the camp, and you were left, waiting for Apollo. You didnt have to wait for long. He descended upon the earth in a rain of golden light. To avoid being blinded, you averted your eyes until the light dimmed. As soon as his feet met the ground, you let go of the cloak, ran towards him and threw yourself into his welcoming arms. They locked around you in an instant, fingers digging into your flesh and his face buried in your neck.

You felt him breathe in and out in a shudder and retreated, thinking he was about to cry, but when you looked into his eyes, they were filled to the brim with a chilling and utterly destructive rage. Your soft hands cupped his face and he let out another shuddering breath, as if he was trying hard to compose himself. Instinctively, you knew he was trying not to scare you, that had to be why he was averting his deadly eyes and pulled you close once more.

"I would have killed all of them, burned down every. single. ship. If it were in my power, I would have striken down Agamemnon and dragged him down to Tartarus myself, so he couldn't even escape his torture in death." His hands loosened their almost bruising hold on you and his voice softened. "Forgive me, my love. I didn't mean to scare you."

"Oh, I wouldn't mind," you smiled shyly. Retreating a few inches, you looked up at him and placed your hand on his marble cheek. He leaned into your touch and kissed your temple and you smiled. "The last part, I mean."

"I'm sorry I can't do that right now," he said, lifting you up into his arms and holding you as if you were as fragile as glass. "but I may have something even better. Let's go home."

Your heart dropped at the mention. Blinking away the tears in your eyes, you looked up at the stars. "I don't have a home anymore," you said, whispering it for some reason. Maybe because you didn't want to know it yourself. "My city is destroyed, my house is burned down, I have nowhere to go."

"You have," he said and golden rays engulfed you, the same ones that had announced his arrival from Olympus. As you realized what he was planning to do, you looked at him in disbelief, and he smiled at you. "I meant my home. Our home. If you want to." The rays of gold around you axcellerated their speed and the only thing you could see was the face you loved most, drowned in a golden hue. He was going to take you to Olympus. Your new home.

"Yes," you breathed and smiled at him. You would be willing to go everywhere with him right now. Your hand found his and he held you tight to his body as his feet lifted off the ground. "Let's go home."

[cherry-pop-elf]

Night terrors

Anya x Reader

Can be read as platonic because we all want to take care of her like we wish someone would for us

AN: As a victim of sexual assault I feel it is important to have a realistic fluff story about the aftermath of it. How it affects the person after it’s been done and how the trauma lingers. How it’s so very important for the person to have a support network. YOU will be her support network. Thank you

Also not to get political but god women in the USA are experiencing a massive increase of assaults so call this projection, or call this training for the inevitable

SUM: Despite surviving that Tulpar adventure, despite all the good karma thrown back at you all, there are just too many many scars to truly recover from

Warnings: Past sexual assault, nightmares, PTSD, whump, abortion, paranoia, it’s gonna be a stressful read, there will be fluff don’t worry, paranoia, inspired/based on my own experiences

“STOP-!”

Anya was screaming in her sleep again.

Woke you up pretty quickly, as you were sharing a bed with her. She was rather scared to sleep alone. Afraid that someone will just break in and take advantage of her. That somehow Jimmy, who long since was dead, will break in again.

“Anya-! Anya wake up! It’s me! Anya-!” You would shake her and try to get her to wake up. To get her out of that terrifying cloud of memories. Her poor face was pale and full of sweat, and she was scared awake by you shaking her. For a fleeting moment she thought it was Jimmy.

As she gave another cry, you reached over and turned on the bedside tables lamp.

She saw your face, and finally took a breathe.

You two weren’t on the Tulpar anymore. Jimmy wasn’t going to hurt either of you ever again. Swansea was home with his wife. Daisuke was home with his mother and father. And she was here with you.

She was alive.

“I….Im sorry-“ Anya sniffled, as you just pulled her into your arms. Gentle with combing your fingers through her hair. Just gentle reminders to not be sorry. To not be sorry for being justified with her fear.

“He won’t ever get you again. I promise.” You would remind her, but she would still tremble.

“Can we check the locks again?” She would ask you, and you would nod. Often times this was the case. No matter how many times she would ask you that question you never got annoyed. It’s good to check the locks anyway. Gotta stay safe after all.

You would both climb out of bed, put on your robes, and go walking around the home. One of your hands was left to be held by Anya’s, as the other would be used to check the locks on everything. From the multiple at front door, from each window, to that of the back door. Each one checked, as Anya would hug at you close.

Was a very nice home, you had to admit. After having rescue finally called, and being saved, the media went nuts. Especially on the fact Curly was still alive. Gave Anya the much needed support to show she was very worthy of a position as a proper doctor. That also meant she got herself quite the hefty salary. Also helps that she now had partial royalties to the book she helped write about the adventure on the ship.

“Every lock is secure.” You explained, as she gave still an anxious look.

“Let’s check each room, and closet. Yeah?” That made her quickly nod.

Now you two were roaming the entire house now. Checking under furniture, in closets, all the nine yards. No stone was left un-turned. You would do it a million times for her. She deserved to have some kind of relief from it all.

“There we go. No Jimmy.” You would give her a hug, and she hugged you back. Still shaken, but at least she was breathing more steady.

The two of you would return to the bedroom, where she did her routine. Checking under her pillow for her sheathed knife, the bedside for her baseball bat, the drawer for her gun, and to take an extra pill to help with the anxiety burst she was having. Her routine.

She would try and lay down, only to dart her head towards the bedroom door. Eyes wide with raw and pure fear.

“I swear I heard him at the door. I swear I did. He said my name he said my name-“ She whimpered, as you would get up. You opened the door, looked around the hallway, and returned.

“Don’t worry Anya. I didn’t hear a single thing.” You reassured, as you would lock the bedroom door for her. Along with putting a chair under the door handle. Even went as far as to double check the bedroom windows, and closed the curtains.

“I’m so sorry-“ She would begin again, as her eyes watered. She felt like such a burden. To have all this fear and paranoia. To the point she couldn’t feel safe when left alone. You couldn’t blame her though. The wounds were still so horribly fresh. Not to mention sometimes PTSD can kick in so many years later. You’ll take the morbid comfort in having it kick in now where you all can handle it now and prepare for the future than suddenly out of nowhere in God knows how long.

It is what it is.

She wasn’t the only one traumatized after all, and she shouldn’t need to apologize for justified fear.

You would pull her back into your arms, and you both laid down. You would turn on the white noise machine for her, to help block the paranoid sounds of voices and scratches from the doors, and would just talk with her. Talk until her medication kicked in to help her sleep.

Didn’t matter what it was. It was just noise to keep her mind distracted.

You wondered how the rest of the crew was doing. How they were dealing with it.

They all had family, so maybe they were doing well. Really should meet up again soon. Can’t be blamed life is so busy.

Curly was back living with his parents and siblings, which they welcomed with open arms. Even his friends before the crew were willing to all share a space to help.

Swansea had his wife and even his kids. Sure he says he’s too old to be traumatized but he keeps checking on his kids way more often now. That’s for sure.

God knows when poor Daisuke’s PTSD will kick in. He may be acting fine now but it’s gonna be a ticking time bomb. It’ll come at him sooner or later. For now his parents were feeling like monsters for pressuring him into that intern ship. He never blamed them, of course. He is even still working under a mentorship with Swansea even. Guess not everything was negative.

Then there was you and Anya. She was the most traumatized of all. There was even the trauma of an abortion. There’s still so many emotions with that as well, but you held her hand through it. Even as far as to move in with her to help. You two had always been very close. Even before joining the crew. You two were always tagged together. Even nicked named her assistant to a point.

You’ll stick with her through the ends of the earth.

“Wanna go visit Curly in the morning? It’ll be Saturday. Maybe we can even invite Swansea and Daisuke.” You offered. Just something positive to look forward to. Something worth waiting for.

“That would be nice.” She muttered, as her own paranoias exhaustion was kicking in. Too tired to even be afraid. Often times how it ends. She gets herself so worked up it ends up being the very same thing that makes her fall back asleep.

“Yeah. We can check out his new prosthetics. Daisuke said he even bought stickers specifically for them.” That had Anya smile. That sweet smile that was hard to come by right now. One that was filled with comfort. Comfort of such an innocent and sweet thought.

“Swansea says he’s also going to attach his own upgrades to it. Not sure how that will work, or what the hell he’s planning, but not gonna lie I need to see if he gives him rocket boosters.”

That got a little laugh from her. The both of you imagining poor Captain Curly flying around in the sky, as Daisuke runs around with some trampoline to try and catch him on.

Just something silly to cut through it all.

Seemed to work, as you could feel her breathing easier now. Her breath not so intense. Was far more steady, and you could tell she fell back asleep. You were thankful for it. Not because she was annoying you. No. Never. But because she needed her rest. She deserves it. She already is working long hours at the hospital, which you bet is because she is trying to avoid being isolated and alone at all cost maybe even reduce sleeping to, so she needed proper sleep more than ever.

And you’ll do your best for her. To help her with it all. You were her little assistant. You’ll do what an assistant does best. Make sure your boss is able to tackle projects easier.

And this project was healing. A project that won’t ever end, will have ups and downs, and be taxing. Over time out the ass and no vacations.

And you know what you say to that?

Bring it.

Thank you so much for reading. This was a more vulnerable piece because Anya really reminded me so much of myself. How I’m suppose to take care of everyone else, while my traumatic abuse is just swept under the rug.

Since you read all the way to the end, maybe take a look at this

National Sexual Assault Hotline:

1-800-656-4673

National Domestic Violence Hotline:

800-799-7233

RAINN (Rape Abuse Incest National Network)

1-800-656-4673

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline

1-800-273-8255

You deserve love and support. What happened wasn’t your fault in the slightest. Not even for a single second. You deserve happiness, hope, and to live a long and healthy life. Everything will be ok again. Doesn’t seem like it now, but it will. I promise

[feex]

So I made a really simple AU of mouthwashing

( does have spelling errors in the actual drawing )

My page: https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSjTNuGfN/

With this AU, it’s very direct from the title but only THREE of them survive ( Swansea, Anya and Daisuke. ) meanwhile Curly and Jimmy are the unfortunate ones who don’t make it back on earth alive atleast.

[ THE ALTERED VERSION OF IT ]

Pony express didn’t go bankrupt IMMEDIATELY in this universe, instead they were just lowering pay for each member except Curly.

They were all found 3 years later after everything had transpired, due to legal action it was a whole case causing major action in response, it was only a miracle how they managed to escape this ordeal.

SWANSEA - he managed to survive being shot in the eye and head, the bullet barely reaching his brain but leaving a fracture in his skull. losing an eye in the process and left with poor vision with the other. After he went back home he was already put into proper medical care and his wife takes care of him now due to his retirement but he has managed to recover swiftly but he still struggles with mobility, Swansea was a little stubborn to retire and let his wife take care but eventually he gave in. the whole incident does have him shaken up and he feels very conflicted about everything.

ANYA - The baby was immediately terminated by the OD and there would’ve been no chance of it surviving either way by the stress of everything happening on board, Anya is still left with the repercussions of the overdose and leaves her occasionally with chronic pain. Anya has completely avoided contact with Daisuke and Swansea due to not wanting to be reminded of anything that happened on Tulpar. Anya is studying psychology as a new field rather than becoming a nurse at the moment, she is in art therapy courses and she has created things to help her express internal turmoil as she slowly recovers physically and mentally.

DAISUKE - He had managed to survive somehow with a string of luck though having surgery for his face and nose causing a slight curve on the bridge of it. he has no eye on the right ( left if we’re being realistic) with the amount of blood he had lost he has anaemia and lost some of his colour in skin, he appears a bit lighter than he usually is. Daisuke is still trying to grow his hair out, having the side of his head shaved for surgery so now his hair is even more layered and choppy. Daisuke has huge gaps in memory and doesn’t have good memory anymore, he struggles with speech and is now in constant care by his mother who now never leaves his side, Daisuke by this point has halfway recovered but he’ll never be able to work on his own and have a proper job.

Meanwhile with Jimmy and Curly.

CURLY - because of his horrific injuries it was only cruel to keep him in constant agony, Anya couldn’t handle the pressure nor the sight of him in so much pain as he was barely surviving off painkillers. she was aware of the fact he would most likely die eventually, nobody killed Curly of course but he had succumbed to the injuries he faced, the exposed skin and the trauma his body faced couldn’t handle it.

JIMMY - He was spiralling, already he knew that if he ever went back home he’d face extreme consequences and with a cowardly move he’d resort to ending his own life. believing everyone on board was already dead which he wouldn’t know what to do, this was his own way of taking responsibility.

[some-bunniii]

Alastor and Lucifer come to your rescue

・❥ You’ve been kidnapped. Good thing you know two handsome fellas who’d come to your rescue in a heartbeat—or lack thereof.

~ 5k words

x: reader is g/n. no use of y/n. enjoy 🥰

“You better just let me go. It won’t be pretty for any of you if you keep me locked up for much longer!” You called from the suspended prison cell, hanging from the ceiling with a single, thick chain.

The demon thugs below barely blinked, ignoring your words as they continued their game of hellish poker. Empty bottles of liquor were scattered across the floor, their heads spinning with a drunken buzz while they snickered between each other.

“Whoever wins this round gets first tool pick for torturing the prisoner.” The dealer laid out the deck of cards, flicking his gaze to the cage just above their heads.

“Maybe that will finally shut them up. It’s been–what, three hours since we grabbed them, and they’re still yapping.” One of the shark demons sighed as he shuffled his hand.

The iron bars pressed against your fingers, their chill biting your skin as you gripped them. The dank air, thick with the stench of mold and something fouler, clung to your lungs with every breath. They had plucked you from the street just as you stepped out of the bar, saying you owed money to some freak down in the Greed Ring and your stash of cash needed to be coughed up before the night's end.

Except you have no memory of stealing money from anybody! They must have confused you for someone else, and surely whoever is waiting for their mula will find out your kidnappers snagged the wrong passerby. Sure, you were in Hell for a reason, but your behavior since working at the Hazbin Hotel had improved considerably.

You’d have alerted any of your friends at the hotel of your whereabouts if you could, but the thugs had shaken you of any loose change and electronics the moment you arrived at this dusty, empty warehouse. Angel Dust was the fastest texter, but you were sure he was at the studio by now—in every position except the one that would answer your cries for help.

Was three hours enough of an absence for anyone to be worried? Maybe Charlie would find you tardy for this evening’s lesson and panic, or Vaggie would notice your desk was empty much longer than usual.

You knew someone who would notice the moment your presence became suspiciously absent. Actually, you could name two that would–and who’d come to your rescue in the blink of an eye.

One of them was the very King of Hell himself, Lucifer Morningstar. You met him when Charlie gave him a tour of the hotel all those months ago, and you were immediately taken by his humor and perfect looks, awed by his power and history as an angel. You would like to feel that Lucifer felt those same butterflies upon being introduced to you when you dipped your head and batted your lashes at those pretty eyes of his.

“I heard you built this hotel up from dust with a single thought!” you said, your voice trembling with excitement as he drew closer. “I've never met someone with such a skill in architecture.”

“You flatter me,” the angel chuckled, extending an open palm, “but also undermining my powers. I’m so much cooler than that. Let me show you!”

In a burst of red magic, a yellow rubber ducky appeared with a comical pop, and you blinked in surprise at the familiar face staring back. The ducky looked… just like you, and a smile spread across your features at the silly little you, reaching out a finger to brush across its beak. 

“That is pretty cool,” you affirmed with a laugh, meeting his prideful gaze, “I never thought I’d look so cute as a duckling!”

“You do that all on your own. Here, you can have it.” Lucifer held out the duck with a wink, and your eyes widened in delight, and you quickly lifted a hand. “Just a generous gift from your gracious, very impressed King of Hell!”

When your fingers brushed against his, it was like feeling earth’s sunlight on your cheeks again, a warmth that spread up your arm and had your shoulders loosening in relief from unnoticed tension. Taking the toy in your hands with sudden, fresh energy, you turned it for a close inspection. It felt real, rubbery, and smooth against your palm. It definitely sounded real when you squeezed its little body, and it quacked, like a real duck! 

When you lifted your head, he had been dragged off by his daughter to finish touring the halls, and you were left with a pounding heart. 

You brushed a thumb across the little duck, warmth rising in your cheeks from the encounter with the angelic man until your smile faltered as his words echoed in your mind.

Very impressed. Did he… like you? The conversation had been brief but charged, and you hoped to see him again and learn the real Lucifer Morningstar, not just the King of Hell. If Charlie could win him over with that visit to Heaven, that is.

That was your first interaction with him–and not your last, either. He began visiting the hotel quite often, reconnecting with his daughter and lending a hand behind the scenes whenever she desired. Lucifer always made time for you, too. 

Giving you colorfully themed rubber duckies became his little tradition, gifting them with theatrics and compliments that had your cheeks hot every time. Lucifer’s features always glowed when you laughed at his stupid dad jokes and stared in awe at the creations he took the most joy in.

The morning you had been kidnapped, you reached for your phone, clicked on the contact with a rubber ducky icon, and typed a quick message while heading for the lobby.

[You: Going to the bar with some friends next to the sweet shop. Want one for the next time you stop by?]

[King of Ducks: You know I can just snap my fingers and make a dozen, right?]

You were shocked to see Lucifer had answered immediately; that was rare for the reclusive king. He had gotten better at including himself into the hotel and as a normal member of hellish society, and you liked to think that was in part due to your efforts. 

[You: Yes, but their desserts are good. Plus, when was the last time you went out and ate non-magically cooked food?]

[King of Ducks: Yeah… no thanks. I don’t trust anything made by sinners. How about I dig around for my last bag of Eden Apples and whip up an appetizer for dinner tonight? Will you be at the hotel?]

[You: Yes, I will only be out for a few hours. See you then!]

[King of Ducks: Can’t wait. ʚ(•ө•)ɞ]

You weren’t sure how to categorize your relationship with the King of Hell. You were one of the very few people he spoke to and who he enjoyed talking to, yet there had never been a confession or a kiss, just outings and shared time at the hotel that bordered on date nights.

Could Lucifer be at the hotel now, waiting for you to eat caramel apples with him? He’d get worried, but would he be able to navigate the hurdles of modern technology to track her phone to the warehouse? That might be a problem. You sighed, hope diminishing as you watched one demon clean the barrel of his gun.

There was one more, however. A powerful demon that knew almost every corner of the rugged outskirts of Pentagram City, where he practiced his expanding powers on criminals just like the scum that gossiped about their latest murders below you. 

“Alastor, I'm going out to the bar.” You had stood in the doorway to the lobby earlier today, lips curving into a soft smile as you tipped your chin up to meet the crimson gaze of the fluffy-eared and charismatic facility manager. “Just visiting some friends, I won’t be long. Save a spot for me at dinner, okay?”

Alastor’s gaze lingered on you, the sharp edges of his grin softening. “But of course, my dear,” he purred, his voice full of warmth. “Take your time, enjoy your evening. I’ll make sure there’s a spot just for you—waiting, as always.”

Alastor always knew where you were heading, partly because he was technically your boss—since you sat as the concierge and receptionist for the hotel—but also because you felt completely safe wherever your journey would lead if you knew the infamous overlord was watching your back. 

The terror he inflicted on any bystander who heard his name didn’t rub you so terribly, not when they had even deadlier crimes. They were in Hell, yet the demon’s only victims had been those clutching pearls of insatiable greed and power, ones that wished to climb the ladder by slaughtering anyone who opposed their seat of violence. 

Alastor was the one who welcomed you into the hotel in the beginning when he found you scrounging for scraps in the alleyways like some feral cat. He had approached you with interest, and when your eyes set upon the infamous Radio Demon who offered you a warm place to sleep and delicious food to fill your growling stomach, you had almost taken it in a heartbeat.

Then, you remembered who exactly this demon was.

“If you think I will make a deal with you, think again! I’m not that desperate to sell my soul!” You backed into a brick wall with a glare.

“Nonsense, I would never ask such a thing.” He brushed off your words with a dismissive wave of his hand. “All I ask in return for room and board is for you to work. Tell me, are you efficient with modern communication devices?

“Yes, I can operate a phone.” You had held back an odd smile.

“Excellent! That is all I require.” Alastor had taken you by the elbow to lead you toward the large, seemingly abandoned building at the top of a grassy hill. “I disdain all these newfangled gadgets that have taken over our wonderful city. I have no use for it, but alas, it is a staple of our world now, so we must become accustomed to stepping out of our comfort zone.”

You had listened to him chatter about the modern world's problems in comfortable silence. Although strange, his voice was smooth and lively, diverting all of your attention to the eloquent words that easily rolled off his tongue. 

No stranger had ever offered you such kindness, especially in a place like Hell, and you were determined to make the most of it. Alastor did not seem to mind your company, even when he showed subtle resistance to the companionship of the others in the hotel, like Angel Dust, who always tried to wind up the demon with constant references to his provocative career choice.

He even let you catch the fireflies in his strange but breathtaking pocket lagoon hidden in the shadows of his room. They danced across the soaked grass, lighting up in soft, yellow hues that blinked a trail across the darkness, one that you followed eagerly with a glass jar in your grip.

With gentle hands, you entrapped three… four… five lightning bugs into their new glass home, where they lit the darkness between your palms, like clutching gold sparkling in the sunlight.

Alastor watched you with an amused smile as you took joy in such a meaningless endeavor. Catching bugs to light up a jar, what a silly little idea. 

But… what a cute little endeavor. Innocent fun that brought light to the most beautiful aspects of the natural world familiar to his childhood home in the South. One of the few things he missed about the painful, mortal world above. 

When a flickering cloud hovered over the murky pond’s edge, you stood right at the water as it lapped at your feet and leaned as far as you could over the shimmering depths. Outreaching your arms, you reached for the fireflies dancing just out of reach with a quiet grunt.

Right as you clamped the lid shut on a flurry of lights, the dewy, slick grass beneath your feet sent you stumbling into the pond. You dropped the jar and flailed, squeezing your eyes shut to await the cold plunge into the muddy water.

Nothing came, however. Only the feeling of a sturdy force wrapped tightly around your midsection. Your eyelids fluttered open, and you tipped your chin down to find a green, smokey tentacle holding you steadily, with another clutching the fallen jar above the pond’s motionless surface. 

“In the mood for a midnight swim, hm?” Alastor teased, and you twisted your head to face him, surprise written across your features. 

He snapped his fingers, and the tentacles slithered back into the middle of the clearing. Carefully lowering you onto the soil, they dropped the container into your open palms before dissipating into the air.

“You caught me!” You breathed in relief. 

“Of course I did.” Alastor chuckled, tone softening as he looked you over. “I can’t have you slipping away from me too easily; who will try my Cajun sauce when you are not around?”

“I do like your sauce,” you replied with a laugh. “Thank you; I’d rather not be soaking wet trying to care for these little guys.” 

He watched you closely, a hint of amusement lingering in his eyes as you carefully cradled the jar. The way the soft lights danced against your face seemed to draw his gaze, and for a moment, the usual mischief in his expression faded into something more contemplative.

“What will you do with them, if I may ask?” He tilted his head.

“I don’t know.” You shrugged, following the flickering lights between your palms in a trance. “I just think they’re beautiful. Maybe as a bedside night light? Or, we could use it as lanterns for the hallways. Angel Dust would be grateful for a path back to his room during late nights returning from the studio.”

“An interesting idea. I’m always touched by your capacity to care for the wellbeing of others,” he had replied, a genuine warmth underneath the faint static of his honeyed voice.

Your cheeks warmed at the compliment, and you hid a bashful smile by pulling the jar closer to your face. A thought struck you suddenly, and the container lowered in your hands as your brows furrowed. You glimpsed at Alastor’s door behind you, lips tipping downward. 

“Wait, isn't this all apart from your room? Which means when I leave, they’ll just… vanish?”

The Radio Demon watched your falling features in surprise, struck by the fact this was emotionally tolling on you. A pang of… something strange had his chest tightening, a feeling Alastor hadn’t felt since he watched his mother cry over an antique vase that shattered after he had romped with the dog a little too wildly as a boy.

Why would he deny you something so innocent and harmless? He’d find no joy in restricting you from taking the silly little creatures with you. 

He may be a demon, but he wasn’t a monster.

“Usually… yes,” Alastor began, lifting a claw to tap gently on the jar’s lid, “but I see no disadvantage in giving you a little sample of my home.”

The glass fizzled with green energy, the fireflies growing anxious by the strange magic that consumed the jar for only a moment. The jar sizzled out like a dying bulb, and the remaining demonic aura sent tingles through your fingertips.

That smile of yours wrapped him tighter around your finger, and your eyes widened in wondered delight. You met his crimson gaze with a hurried thanks and dashed out of his room to find the perfect spot for your twinkling lantern. Your quick farewell didn’t bother Alastor; he knew you’d be back to collect more, and he’d greet you once more with the usual dapper grin. 

You weren’t sure what your relationship with Alastor was, either: but, you knew he would come to your rescue at a moment’s notice. Except, he would never set foot near any gadget that could ping your location. So… how would he find you? Were you doomed to be swinging from the ceiling forever?

Then, your hands settled upon a tiny object still deep in your pocket. Lifting it to view, your eyes lit with an idea. 

A paper clip, one that you could transform into a makeshift lockpick. It was a good thing you knew how to pick locks. Very well, if you were to brag. Bending the metal with practiced ease, you scooted to the lock that kept you sealed away and quietly slipped the clip’s end into the tiny hole. You strained your ears, listening for the familiar clicks that would lead to your grand escape. 

“You son of a bitch!” One of the demons snarled below, slamming his fist onto the table as he glared at the player across from him, startling you. “I know you cheated!” 

“It’s called being a sore loser,” the other drawled, swirling the liquor in his glass. “It's not my fault you’re this bad at—”

“Excuse me, gentleman.”

Their heads snapped to the open doorway across the floor, your eyes trailing up the finely-tailored red suit until they landed on a pair of fluffy ears and tiny antlers that stuck out from the top of his head.

“Alastor!” You cried happily from above, wiping your brow with relief.

His gaze flicked to your figure dangling above the criminals, who rose slowly with deadly glares at the new arrival. They lowered back onto the men around the table, his grin sharpening as it widened from ear to ear, and his nails tapped against the microphone on his staff.

“I believe you’ve taken someone who does not belong to you,” Alastor continued, boredom lacing his tone, “return them, and I will grant you a less painful death.”

The room was unfathomably silent. The only sound reaching your ears was your own heartbeat thumping against your ribcage as you watched the scene below in breathless anticipation.

“Is that him?” One of the thugs whispered, and another nodded with a set jaw.

“Yes, but he’s outnumbered twenty to one. We can take him.” He pulled an angelic blade from his sheath. “Alert the rest of our men. The Radio Demon won’t last for much longer.” 

His accomplice obliged, and Alastor let them go, thrilled by the added challenge as he took another step forward.

“Well?” He hummed, looking at the men expectantly.

One parted their lips, beginning to speak, until the overhead lights flickered and fizzled out, except for one on the opposite end of the warehouse. Everyone, even Alastor, furrowed their brows in confusion. 

“Behold!” A disembodied voice echoed across the long space, dripping with theatrical flair. You perked at the familiar tone, a smile tugging at your lips. The remaining light in the warehouse intensified, casting an exaggerated, almost divine glow on the figure emerging from the shadows. 

“The Morning Star has arrived!” Lucifer announced with a flourish, eyes shut and arms outstretched as if addressing an adoring crowd. 

Unfortunately, he was faced in the opposite direction of the crowd. Alastor’s smile faltered at the sight of the short king before it sharpened even further, and his claws clenched around his staff.

“And I am here to—! Oh.” Lucifer’s yellow gaze met the wall, and he pivoted on the heels of his boots to face the group across the warehouse, snapping his fingers and vanishing in red smoke.

In an explosion of confetti, the angel popped into existence beside Alastor, and Lucifer’s grin grew in devilish triumph.

“As I was saying.” He cleared his throat to the jaw-dropped onlookers, twirling his apple-tipped cane in his fingers. “I am here to relieve you all of life, forever, since you can’t keep your hands to yourself like decent people.” 

The thugs blinked, glancing between each other. Some looked like they were about to beeline for the exit, while others only bared their teeth in anger.

“Did you follow me here?” Alastor ground out, eye twitching as he twisted his head with a crack to side-eye the king.

“No!” Lucifer replied with a huff. “This is my city, remember. I know my way around these parts just fine.”

“I was here first,” Alastor hissed, adjusting his suit with a hmph. “This is my rescue. Don’t you have some toys to play with back home?” 

“Still up here!” You called from the bars of your cell, peering down at the two bickering men with an eye roll.

They looked up at your crouched figure, then at each other with calculating glares, and finally rested on the mass of criminals before them, more pouring in from the open doors.

“Watch and learn, bellhop.” Lucifer rolled up his sleeves and stepped toward the group of thugs who clutched their angelic weapons with trembling fingers.

He lifted a hand, pointing a finger gun toward the closest demon, whose eyes widened as the King of Hell aligned his sights as he looked down the imaginary barrel of a gun.

With an audible “pew!” A firework shot from Lucifer’s fingertip, slamming into one of the demon's stomachs and skyrocketing him out a window with a shriek. 

The darkening sky lit up in a burst of sparkling colors, and a thunderous boom shook the building. The thugs around the table blinked, glancing at each other warily as the apple-cheeked man clasped his hands and looked at them expectantly.

“Anyone else?” Lucifer smiled with shark-like teeth, brushing the dust from his coat. 

They gulped, lowering their weapons, but the largest demon, a centipede-like man who stood three or four Alastor’s tall, hissed in rage and lifted six silver, gleaming pistols toward the angel, all clutched in its multiple pairs of arms. 

If the angels could be felled by their own steel as they did during their attack on the city only two weeks ago, surely their once-heavenly king could fall from it, too. There was too much money on the line to flee just yet. The demon pulled each trigger simultaneously, and Lucifer quirked a brow.

“Huh, that’s efficient,” he said as bullets flew past his hat, and he ducked quickly to avoid them. 

Alastor threw up a shield of green, the bullets from the rest of the thugs ricocheting off the powerful barrier and zipping across the floor, hitting one of the demons right in the chest with a pained gasp.

“Do not worry your fragile little crown.” The Radio Demon stepped forward, waving off the king without a glance. “I will handle these delinquents.”

“There’s not a chance in Hell I’m letting you have all the fun,” Lucifer replied, and he pulled a long, fiery whip from within his coat. 

The whip crackled with an infernal glow, flames licking the air as it uncoiled. He cracked it against the floor, splitting the concrete and leaving scorch marks across its surface. With a snarl to charge, the thugs surged forward, brandishing their weapons and aiming their guns at the two men’s foreheads without faltering.

In an unspoken competition, your dual saviors readied themselves, green tentacles curling around Alastor protectively as a few snaked forward and throttled a group of demons while another threw one out the already-broken window. His antlers extended, eyes turning to radio dials as his form grew and shifted into a demonic monstrosity, claws extended for the succulent fleshbags before him.

Lucifer lashed out with his whip, the flames searing the air as it wrapped around the largest demon’s pistols, yanking them from its grasp with a force that sent the weapons clattering to the floor. With a flick of his wrist, the whip coiled around the centipede-man’s legs, dragging it down to its knees. 

“Kneel before your king,” Lucifer sneered. He gave the whip a final, violent crack, sending the demon sprawling across the ground, flames licking at its many dismembered appendages.

Lucifer danced across the room, ducking and diving as he karate-chopped a demon, and they exploded into colorful paper mache. Alastor grew twice the size, his antlers lengthening and his eyes shifting into radio dials as he plucked a snarling criminal from the floor and swallowed him whole. 

You did not want to sit around and take a stray bullet to the heart, so you continued picking the lock with hasty fingers. Bullets flew past your cage, but you did not halt the task as you heard the familiar clicks of unlocking mechanisms. 

Realizing their chances were much slimmer than initially thought, some of the men hurried away, teeth chattering in fear, as they left the rest of their friends to be eaten by the hulking red demon and set on fire by balls of flame that engulfed Lucifer’s hands.

The final click had the lock to your cell plummeting to the ground, bonking one thug on the head, and he face-planted onto the concrete with a groan. 

“I did it!” You beamed, chest swelling with a rare ego.

The door swung open, and you poked your head out, watching with a fluttering heart as the two contrasting figures worked in tandem to rescue you.

A tendril curled around the last demon’s leg, dragging him toward the gaping maw of the Radio Demon as he cried out in fear. The sudden force had his finger curling around the trigger, discharging a silver bullet that flew right above your head and shattered the chain that kept you suspended with a piercing shriek of metal.

The cage fell, and you along with it. With a gasp, you helplessly grasped at the bars, squeezing your eyes shut for the impending pain and misery as the floor rushed to meet you.

Six wings spread quickly, and Lucifer sprang forward, arms outstretched to catch your screaming figure midair. The cage around you burst in a plume of red smoke, and you coughed, brushing away the lingering smoke as your heart pounded. Your eyes lifted to meet Lucifer’s soft gaze, the overwhelming relief washing over you like a wave, and you instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck, clinging to his warmth and safety.

“Are you alright?” He asked, scanning your body for any injuries. Heaven only knows what he would have done if you had any.

“Now that you two are here, I've never been better,” you replied with happy tears brimming. 

“Right, that guy is also here.” Lucifer rolled his eyes, glancing at Alastor’s shrinking figure as the demon licked his lips in satisfaction. “I hope you know I could have done everything without him.”

Of course, you did. He was the King of Hell. You shook your head with a smile as he descended smoothly, carefully lowering you onto two feet. Your chest was still heaving from the adrenaline as your gaze fleeted across the broken bodies littered across the ground, stomach churning at the sight.

Alastor strolled forward, taking his turn to examine you. His smile had receded, softening at the edges as he sidled up to you.  

“You know, you handle yourself quite well under pressure without assistance. I knew your skills would come in handy someday. Although, in a few more minutes, I would have been there to free you without fuss.”

“Except I'm the one who caught them. That is a sole save in my books,” Lucifer cut in before you could speak. “All you did was have a late-night snack and ruin my good mood.”

“Preposterous. It was I who took care of most of these nuisances and saved our dear one,” Alastor chuckled dryly, shaking his head. “Without me, you’d have only been floundering against the opposition like a frail duckling in alligator waters.”

“I’m so thankful that you both saved me,” you proclaimed, eyes shining with gratitude as you locked elbows with both men at your sides, “I couldn’t be more grateful for the rescue. Why don’t we get some celebratory drinks from Sinbucks on the way back? A hot cup of black joe and an Earl Grey tea for my handsome saviors.”

“Fine.” Alastor shrugged, not sparing a glance at the man on the other side of you. “But only if this blathering fool pays for it.” 

“Anything for you,” Lucifer agreed, winking your way, “but your friend here better wait outside on the curb. I’m sure they wouldn’t like a rabid animal stinking up the place.”

With a giggle, you pulled them along and left the warehouse, strolling down the trashed streets with a skip in your step. 

You glanced at both of them, pleased and content with just being near you. There was never a dull moment with either of them at your side, or with them together, for that matter, and you wished times like these lasted longer.

Although, you hoped that could happen without being kidnapped next time. 

heyyy guys 😇 im back!! sort of. more like i took a break in writing my novel (roughly 70k words in) to work on an idea i’ve had for awhile but didn’t have the motivation for until now. also, summer overtime at my job and physical therapy have shortened my spare time to do anything… ick.

but now i’m freeeee!! so have this “little” guy for now, and i’ll have more to feed you all soon! now time to crawl back in my hole and write 🥲 goodbye 🤍

taglist 🏷️ (combined characters, 1/2)

@ohnoivefallen @doodlebob2726 @coleisyn @undertale-is-sansational @nehy019 @mixplara @chewbrry @yellowsubiesdance @airwolf92 @lxkeee @jellybellyrulez @catnoirsleftnut @mbruben-stein @froggybich @moonlovers34 @just-trash-yeah-thats-it @wings-of-sapphire @the-tortured-poet @enigmatic-blues @bethleeham @blue122 @cherry-4200 @azullynx @luzzbuzz @for-hearthand-home @helluvapoison @th3-st4r-gur1 @concentratedconcrete @cimadreamer @marsenbie @guacam011y @maxiskindahere @purplerose291 @fictional-character-whore @0willowwisp0 @yourlocalgoldenretrieverboy @wpdarlingpan @halo-balo @chipper-chip @lvstyangel @acrazyartist @midorichoco @ivebeenthearchersstuff @indestructeible @otherthoughtsofbu @anonymousewrites @watchinthestarz @mechanicalmari @luxmessorem @cherry-cola-100

[soleilapproves]

This is part 2 of the arranged marriage AU with Nanami where the two of you struggle with intimacy.

You both learn to cuddle in this one. This is a bit long so grab some snacks and a warm blanket.

Masterlist

-•-

After that fateful night of receiving flowers from your husband (personally and not through his family for a proposal), you had start warming up to him. You found out that he enjoyed mundane things like reading, walking at the beach, and most of all, bread. He learned about a lot of your likes and dislikes too.

Gradually, you found that it was easier to make conversation with him while having dinner so the two of you started having all your meals together. You’d talk about your work and what unruly things your coworkers did to cross you and he’d add in his two cents about them being incompetent. The relationship started to feel more friendly. He was glad his wife was talking to him about something other than the weather!

He also had a new desk moved into his study so you could work alongside him rather than stay holed up in your room. Your desk was adjacent to his (so he could look up to stare at you whenever he wanted).

He started noticing all the little things about you, like the way you liked doing your hair, your favorite spot on the couch, what kind of music you’d hum while doing chores. He was slowly chipping away at the ice and was enjoying every minute of it.

To be loved is to be known. He didn’t know how to show you that he was becoming more and more interested in you without displaying physical touch or being afraid of saying something that you may not be comfortable with. So he’d buy you gifts and try to spend time with you as much as possible. His gifts would be simple yet meaningful, like a record player for your room so you could listen to all your favorite tunes and pilates equipment for your home gym because you had been talking about how you wanted to work out but without leaving the house.

Your heart wasn’t letting you rest either. You started making him lunch for work and would write random notes along with it. It could be a fun fact or a simple motivational message. He would always thank you for them (and save them in a little box he has in his office). Sometimes he’d ask you more about the fact and how you learned about it.

Everything felt stable. It was like living with a best friend.

Until one day, you both were sitting next to each other while watching a horror movie. Separate blankets of course, but you were close enough for your knees to touch while sitting criss cross. A particularly scary scene came up and you jumped, holding on to the sleeve of Nanami’s sweater. He was alarmed, not because you screamed in fear but because you held on to him for comfort! “Can I hold your bicep? I’m sorry, this is just a little too scary.”

He could simply nod. No words or thoughts could form when he felt the warmth of your body against his arm. Your breath would occasionally land on his chest from how you were unintentionally leaning on him and it was driving him insane. Normally things like this would give him sensory overload but with you? Gosh, was it a good feeling. He always thought that that men who bragged about being protective were strange and were trying to prove themselves for no reason but they weren’t wrong. Knowing that you felt safe with him made him feel like a true man. Like he could run into the sunset and scream his lungs out.

After the movie was over you were still shaken up. “Is everything alright?” He looked down at you. You still had his arm in your grip. “Um, no, I’m still a little freaked out from the movie which is weird cause I’m a grown adult. Why am I scared of such movies anyway?” You smack your hand on your forehead. “It’s alright. It was a little too scary than what I’m used to as well.” He then paused, as if, he wanted to say something but he couldn’t. You looked up at him expectantly. “Since you’re scared, would you… like to sleep in my room? And I’m saying this in the most respectful way possible.” He sheepishly smiled as he asked.

Sleep? In the same bed as Nanami? Scratch that, sleep in the same bed as your HUSBAND? Of course, especially when he has been so sweet with flowers, gifts, and even comforting you through a strange movie. “Yes, I’d like that very much.” You whispered. You were afraid that if you spoke any louder you’d be breaking your bubble of comfort with him. “Then, I’ll make the necessary preparations.” He immediately gets up to go straighten up his room (and switch on his diffuser).

By necessary preparations, you didn’t know that he meant getting you a separate blanket and having a divider of pillows between the two of you. This was the opposite of what you wanted. You were still scared and needed some sort of physical touch to be reassured that you weren’t going to be harmed.

“Nanami, are you awake?” You whispered into the dimly lit room. The moonlight through the window acted as a natural night lamp. “I’m up. Do you need anything?” He responded swiftly. “No, everything is great except for one thing.” You turn towards him and remove the pillow between your heads so can make eye contact. “When you suggested sleeping in the same bed I thought we’d be holding hands because I’m scared.”

“Oh.” Was all Nanami could muster up. You were tense. Did you ask for too much? Maybe you should’ve asked his permission before requesting for it. Consent is key. But all your thoughts are silenced when Nanami simply grabs your hand and pulls you close. “Th-Thanks.” Your heart was racing a mile a minute. Nothing really happened after that though. Pure silence engulfed the room again, except for the occasional rustling of the sheets while you moved around.

“Y/N?” Your husband broke the silence. You hummed in response. “Do you know how to cuddle?” What an odd request, not unwelcome but definitely strange as Nanami never really initiated any sort of physical touch with you. It was mostly you either accidentally touching him or squeezing his bicep before work. You were too scared to admit that you had never been in a relationship before. What would he think? He’s a handsome man, so there’s no way he had never been in a relationship before. Maybe he never cuddled with his exes. He did tell you that he used to be very particular about his personal space.

“Yeah, I do.” You said, your knowledge from reading romance novels was finally being used. “Can you teach me? You don’t have to if you’re uncomfortable.” But you turned to your side so you could properly face him. You let go of his hand, missing the warmth provided by them. “I’ll teach you an easy one first. It’s called spooning. Since you’re a beginner, I’ll let you be the little spoon and I’ll be the bigger spoon.” Nanami snorted at your description. But obliged. “Alright, what does the little spoon do?”

You then instructed him to turn, making his back face you and then you wrapped your arms around him and leaned your forehead against his back. “So this is what spooning is. I think I’d much rather prefer being the big spoon. I want to be able to protect you from that ghost in the movie.” You giggle at his words and oblige. When his arms wrap around you, it feels as if everything has fallen into place. The world is in order and you both don’t need anyone else but each other.

Nanami is in ultimate peace with you in his arms. The warmth given to him by your body being pressed against him is a feeling like no other. It felt right. Like you two were meant to be all along. His heart raced at the thought of other cuddling positions. However, a sense of jealousy rose in him as he thought about who you might’ve experienced this with first. Alas, he can still make new memories with you so he comforts himself to sleep.

[radioactiverats]

Thoughts: Electric shock (Starscream x reader)

The first time it happens, you both react in comically similar fashions - with an ungainly yelp, cradling hand and servo respectively as you jump away from each other.

"What the frag was that?" Starscream hisses. "How is it that humans can generate charge?"

"Charge?" you mutter. You suppose the interpretation makes sense. "That was an electric shock. It happens a lot in winter." You almost laugh at the fact that you completely forgot about the inevitability of this. The bots are giant metal beings, after all.

Starscream scrutinizes you through suspicious, narrowed optics, maintaining a wary distance. He has to admit that it stirred the long-dormant scientific curiosity inside him, though. Cybertronians are no stranger to generating charge, but a charge of this scale only occurs during interface - and their partner, assuming they were cybertronian as well (Hmm. Interesting factor. Starscream files that away for later, if only out of morbid curiosity (lie)), would ordinarily have nullified the charge, in a sense. Either through rerouting, absorbing it into their EM field - grounders were particularly good at this, and had been highly sought after partners for a while. Starscream yanks his spiralling thoughts back with a snarl. Cybertronians had relative control over their EM field, able to project it to comfort, merge with others, achieve understanding with one another without the need for verbal communication. Starscream had considered this a mark of sophistication amongst his species - even if thoughts like these had belonged to a time before the war.

So humans had a primitive EM field, he'd known this for a while. If he reached out to touch your field, so weak it radiated only centimeters from your form (it's not like you knew he was doing that, it's not like you would realize he cared, god forbid anyone knew he cared.), he could feel the maelstrom of your puny human feelings and was all at once shaken by it. How could something so small, which existed for barely a blip of his existence, feel so much?

After some observation, he'd quickly established (with some disappointment) that you had no control over your EM field.

Pathetic, Starscream thought. Another reason that cybertronians are superior beings.

However, his little 'experiments' didn't stop. Unexpected and spontaneous generation of charge was simply not something that his kind did, even if he was loathe to admit his interest (purely scientific, of course).

Which begins a rather undignified exercise of him trying to poke you with a servo when you least expected it, to see if charge would generate - "Ow, FUCK - Starscream!"

You quickly resigned yourself to the fact that you had to fight fire with fire. Quietly approaching from your perch on his desk as he squinted and swore over a stack of datapads, you reach a hand out and slap it onto his arm.

Both of you screech at the same time as an audible SNAP crackles between you. Still, you can't stop your laughter as Starscream bolts upright to hurl every cybertronian profanity in the book at you.

[strawberryblue-blog]

Seven minutes in heaven

—Pablo Gavi.

summary: a night of fun with your friends and your worst nightmare + Y/N x Pedri platonic.

warnings: YES. +18. smut, explicit content, enemy to lover, jealousy, fingering, etc.

words count: +2.6k

#SEXYNOTE: I apologize if there are spelling errors. English is not my first language. Thanks for the support 🩵

The bottle rolled into the center of the human circle as all expectantly watched over and over again. All your friends were surrounded in a big circle while laughing and joking, most of them were drunk and after several hours of karaoke and dancing they had finally decided to sit down and play a game to kill the boredom.

The bottle game is not something that was really your style but you were bored and by now nothing mattered, you just wanted to keep having fun. With each passing round there were always squeals of delight and jeers, you could tell that everyone was so excited about the game that you looked like pubescent teenagers (although most of you still were). Your glances scattered to the boy sitting in front of you, who still like you had yet to spin the bottle or play the game. You tucked your hair behind your ear as you watched the boy smile at you, he looked so handsome today, it made you sigh internally as you acted like a five year old girl flirting with her crush.

The looks became consistent as time went on, both you and he kept seeing each other with complicit smiles. You clearly liked him, he was handsome and so kind. Pedri Gonzalez was the dream of every woman in Spain. He was probably one of the sexiest men you've ever met, with a good personality, kind and super tender. Were you expecting to play with him tonight? Definitely. You were eager to spin the bottle and beg for him to stand on it, so you would have a reason to get close to Pedri.

When it was your turn to spin, you excitedly grabbed the bottle and leaned in close enough to get into position. Your fingers trembled as you spun the bottle and everyone was feasting their eyes waiting for it to stop. It was exciting and terrifying at the same time. But who cares? Today it was all or nothing.

It honestly didn't bother you that it would stop with anyone else in the round, everyone here seemed cute and asking a question or a challenge was nothing more than a game to you. As the bottle began to stop, your stomach fluttered as you gave a fleeting glance at the boy in front of you who smiled kindly at you.

Then, the bottle stopped. And so did your pulse.

No way. You swallowed hard when the person pointed out in the round was not who you expected but the opposite. It had stopped at the one person you didn't want to point out in the round. Damn.

"It's Gavi!" you heard your friend shout in amusement and your heart pounded.

What the fuck? Pablo Gavi, are you serious? No thanks! You want to say quickly but you just frown in confusion. It's now that you regret turning that bottle.

"Truth or dare?" said Ferran looking at you both.

You open your mouth but the words don't come out of it, you're still a bit shaken and you definitely want to ignore the fact that just happened.

"Challenge, challenge, challenge!" everyone in the room started shouting and cheering them on.

You are sure that at this moment your face is a poem. You quickly deny in disbelief. There were more than ten people in this room, of all of them, did it have to touch you with the only person you didn't have a good relationship with? the only person you don't like? that you had done something wrong in this world for Karma to surprise you like this?

"True" you say quickly trying to make this happen as fast as possible. You just want to play and have someone else spin the bottle.

"Only challenges are allowed from now on! Questions are already boring!" mentions one of your friends and everyone agrees shouting.

You shook your head and your gaze is directed towards Pablo, who smiles indifferently as if the situation will not affect him, compared to you. Was he enjoying it? You'd rather answer any question, even the stupidest, than have a challenge with him. It was pointless!

"Dare then" Marc states and you roll your eyes helplessly.

Continuing to deny it wasn't going to repair the fact that had already touched you with Pablo and your friends wouldn't leave you alone if you kept insisting.

"It's only a game after all" you thought sighing internally.

"I'll put it on!" shouted Caro, one of your best friends.

Oh no. You look at her pityingly but her look is pure amusement, you know it won't be quiet. She was a savage and had no mercy in setting challenges or asking questions.

"Seven minutes in heaven" she said in her cheerful tone of voice and everyone squeals at her proposal, laughing and cheering.

Your face fell at that moment. A shiver ran down your back and you could feel your belly contract at the challenge. You couldn't see yourself right now but you were sure it felt like you had just been given the worst news of your life.

"You're crazy, change it" you said snorting in denial.

You would accept any challenge, walking on the edge of the pool blindfolded, throwing yourself off the table without seeing and trusting Pablo, any stupidity, but you couldn't accept that.

"What happened to 'whatever it takes' to have fun?" she retorted in derision.

Those had been exactly your words when they started the game and you were up for anything. But that wasn't a fair challenge. Even you hadn't decided what to do.

"Come on, María had to show Fermin her breasts and look at them!" she squealed in response.

Your head turned to the boys a little further away from you who were kissing nonstop. Her challenge had been wild but it was no comparison to yours. At least she liked Fermin, they had only done each other a favor. On the other hand, you and Pablo didn't get along, everyone knew that. Caro had lost her mind. You weren't going to accept it.

"I don't want to play" you mumbled putting your arms across your chest.

You heard the groans of your friends, who were starting to call you boring and you kept shaking your head, trying to convince them to change the challenge.

"Someone seems to be afraid" you heard Gavi's mocking voice and your blood boiled.

"I'm not afraid!" you shout in response. Everyone watches the scene and you can see how many of them hide laughter at the sight of you exalting yourself.

Caring for your integrity is being afraid? No. They're crazy if they think you're going into a room alone with him. You don't know him at all and you don't want to meet him.

"It's only seven minutes, it's not that big a deal either" Joao said with a chuckle.

"You don't even have to do anything, you guys can do in there whatever you want" agreed Tania, your other friend, with a certain flirtatious look winking her eye.

"I had to lick Ferran's abdomen and you insisted i had to do it" says Valentina and everyone nods, starting to cheer you up and you can see Pedri's curious look at your challenge, you can also see how he is having fun.

He was supposed to be your challenge, not Gavi! You wouldn't bother going into the room with Pedri. But when you see that there is no escape and you can't get away with it anymore, so resigned you sigh looking for some courage to comply.

You curse out loud as you get up from the floor quickly shaking your ass. You hear the murmurs of happiness as you start walking towards the room and you can feel someone coming up behind you. The faster you are, the faster this ordeal will end.

As you enter the room and Gavi walks in behind you you can see your friend poke her head through the door with a certain smile, you try to calm your anxiety or you will end up murdering more than two people tonight.

"It'll be seven minutes counting when you close the door and we'll hit you when it's time" she warns and you snort angrily. "Have fun Y/n!" she whispers and you show her your middle finger in goodbye before she starts walking towards the round of people.

And now that? You start walking as far away from Gavi going to the other side of the room as he closes the door and your nerves start to burn in your belly. Finally you are alone, too alone... It's almost terrifying. You don't hear noise at all, since the room is a bit far from the group and they probably keep rolling the bottle and playing while you are gone.

Will it be long before it's time? No one says anything, you just stand there. It's uncomfortable and torturous.

The minutes pass like days, you can feel Gavi sigh deeply as your gaze is directed everywhere but at him, but you can feel his gaze on you. So much that you start to feel your nerves accelerate your pulse and make you feel more anxious than usual.

It's time? You already want to get out of here and reproach your decisions. You don't even know why you recommended playing this game, now you were a prisoner of the consequences and you regretted having said that any challenge was possible.

Yes it's true, you were not ashamed of the challenges but you didn't want to play with Gavi. He was a jerk who played with all the girls, self-centered and a cretin with a certificate.

Not your type at all.

However, you always knew he was handsome. He has charisma and a cute smile that sometimes you hate. You weren't going to lie that you were a little attracted to him, it was pointless not to admit it but his personality ruined it and you ended up disliking him.

"Why are you so nervous?" he asks taking a step towards where you are standing.

Your gaze meets his and a shiver runs down your spine. Why do you suddenly feel so intimidated under his gaze? You can't show weakness.

"I'm not" you say slowly, clearing your throat. "I just don't want to be here, it's stupid" you complain.

Gavi laughs hearing your tantrum. He's laughing at you.

"You wanted to play this game" he mutters wryly.

"I'm not supposed to play with you!" you squeal and you quickly fall silent noticing your words.

You and your big mouth. Now he'll have something to tease you with for days, you know he won't keep quiet about it and that makes you feel angry.

Gavi's smile widens, he's making fun of you and you can't allow it. You shouldn't have said that. He gets on your nerves. You can't even think straight.

Damn, he keeps getting closer and it makes you more nervous. There is no more space behind you and you gently collide against the wall of the room.

"So you wanted to play with someone else" he says when he's close enough. "Pedro, i guess"

When he mentions his name, your body trembles and you quickly deny but his smile comes back to tease you. He's his friend and he's probably seen how you usually look at him or talk to him, maybe you're too obvious when it comes to Pedri.

"So you like Pedri, eh?" he whispers with a mocking tone.

"N-no" you stutter in denial but you doubt if it's because of the question or because of his closeness.

You begin to miss your breath and you feel suffocated by his gaze and body. When you try to move away you are cornered by his body, pressed between him and the wall. He's so close that you can smell his perfume and you feel like you're about to deteriorate, it's so cloying and strong that you suddenly feel dizzy.

"Of course you do" he laughs with a grimace. "Sweet good Y/N wanted a challenge with innocent Pedri" he teases and your teeth squeak inside your mouth.

Now you are the one facing towards him, you are furious and will show no weakness for him. Still, you can feel how your mouth is dry and you swallow saliva to wet it, giving you courage to face him.

"Any of them would have been fine" you say blanching your eyes.

"Why not with me, then?" he asks again and takes a step towards you.

He's so close to you that if you breathe, he'll notice you're nervous, so you confirm your breathing as he feels his heat radiating off your body.

"Because you're an idiot" you say hard and sure.

You can't escape and you can how all his muscles tense at your words. You're being so strong right now that you're surprised by the way you're dealing with him. But you can't help but think about him... in kissing him... or touching him.

Suddenly all your standards are down and you feel self-conscious in front of him. Your breathing is ragged, if you make one false move you could end up brushing against his lips, so you freeze.

"Do you think being a good innocent girl will make Pedri notice you?" he asks harshly and your eyes tremble under his gaze.

Being taller than you, you can see his face reflect back at you and the urge to kiss him comes to the forefront of your mind. Drinking tonight has probably had side effects on you because now you can't help but feel the urge to kiss an idiot. You swallow saliva as his eyes dart to your lips, he watches them, licking his lips a little and your heart races as you watch him from there.

Damn, you feel yourself getting turned on by that image. You can't help it.

Even if it's hard for you to assimilate, you want to kiss him. So hard. Maybe your friends spiked your drink or you're under some kind of spell, because you don't understand the anxiety you feel waiting for him to touch you. His body is so close to yours but there's no context whatsoever and that makes you crave something you've never felt before. And you're so hot right now that anyone could notice it.

For a few seconds, no one does anything. It's as if you're both surprised by the reactions of your bodies, Gavi just stares at you indiscriminately as if he wants to eat you and you feel like you're on fire inside.

Your back is between a rock and a hard place, you won't get out of this place alive tonight and that's very clear to you. However, you are dying to know what it would feel like to kiss his lips, to have his hands around your body, to have his tongue taste you.

You can't breathe, for an instant everything goes into slow motion. His hands encircle your face and he pulls you to him, bringing your lips together in an explosive impact. It's a hard, rough, desperate kiss. You refuse to touch him because otherwise you won't be able to let go later but when his hands melt into your body, pulling you to him, you are forced to grab him by the shoulders. Suddenly your body craves him and you can't stop kissing him.

What the fuck is wrong with you?

His touch moves over your body, caressing your hips, your ass, your back, taking you from every corner he can to hold you. Yours squeeze his shoulders and back, feeling the hardness of his worked muscles. Your lungs seek air after a few seconds and when they breathe again, you rejoin your mouth to his.

You can feel his laughter between his kisses but you don't care, it's sweet and bitter at the same time, it's like a drug you can't get enough of. You want to kiss him, you want him to kiss you, you want to touch him. Why does he have this effect on you? Why are you so hot to feel him?

Right now you're not finding the challenge your friends set for you a bad idea. In fact, you kind of appreciate it.

You don't understand. How can someone so obnoxious and idiotic attract you so much that you can't stop touching him? How can someone like Pablo Gavi attract you so much that you lose your mind?

His kisses are fiery, hot and unforgettable, you're sure it won't be easy to forget this moment. The moment when you lost your mind and got carried away by a stupid game. But you don't want to stop.

One of his hands goes to the edge of your jeans, undoing the button and when you gasp at the touch of his fingers on your skin, Gavi kills your lip hard. He doesn't need to ask, he doesn't need your permission, he doesn't need your words. He knows he can do whatever he wants to you, you are under his spell. You don't worry about pushing him away, in fact, you crave his touch and he knows it all too well, as your gasps are proof of it. The heat in your legs begins to rise as his fingers slip through your pants and you moan as you feel his caresses.

His lips loosen for the first time in a while and his gaze watches you with that oafish grin. You don't recognize yourself at this moment, it's as if someone else has taken control of your body. He is playing torturously with you, stroking you over your panties, waiting for you to beg.

"Pablo..." you ask as his fingers continue to play with you.

You shake your head as you hear yourself and think of all the times you said you would never beg a man.

"Pablo, what?" he says clicking his tongue, his other hand running up your belly.

Damn. You don't want to beg but you're so horny that if he doesn't touch you, you'll die.

"Touch me" you whisper against his mouth.

You lost your dignity when you turned that bottle tonight, you didn't care about anything anymore. When you got out of here no one would believe you if you said they didn't do anything, so why not really do it? At the end of the day you had wanted to play. No one would remember anything tomorrow, hopefully not even you.

"What would Pedro say if he found out that innocent Y/N was begging to be touched?" he teases but you can't complain because you're too busy feeling his fingers caress your wetness torturously.

You can feel his cool touch take place inside your panties, sliding them to the side to grope your area. Your back arches as his fingers slide through your heat, caressing you gently. You had never been as wet with someone as you were right now and it embarrassed you. You couldn't bear for him to be the one to get you this way with just a kiss.

Your mouth opens in a plea as you beg him to soothe your pain. You are hopelessly under his control. You've just dug your own grave.

"Gavi..." you moan his name pleadingly.

The last thing you see of him is a wicked smile before you close your eyes as his fingers sink into your center and your legs tremble with pleasure. You hide a scream from deep in your throat as the image of his face repeats in your head. A surge of heat raptures against you as his fingers draw motions over your pussy, making you gasp desperately.

It feels so fucking good.

You're so full that when he starts moving his fingers you can't help but moan in bliss, in relief. You can feel them deep inside you, curving his fingers to reach your spot, as he strokes without stopping, you can feel your hard nipples rubbing against the fabric of your bra. Surely even Gavi can feel them. You're a mess but you don't care at all. You're in heaven.

Literally in heaven.

"Do you think Pedro could make you feel like this?" he asks as his forehead is pressed against yours.

Your skin crawls when you remember that behind the wall are all your friends. Even Pedri. Shit. The game. You don't even care about the time now.

You deny a little but you can't think. Not with his fingers inside you.

"No one can touch you like this, do you understand?" he says adding a finger and you cry out as you feel your walls open up for him.

Your hands hold the back of his neck, clinging tightly to him as his fingers continue to masturbate you vehemently. You've never felt this way with anyone else before, it's as if Gavi knows exactly how to touch you, where to touch you.

"P-pablo" you moan trembling. "Shit, yes, there" you beg pleadingly.

Every fiber of your body is on fire, you can feel how pleasure invades and envelops you, you die of shame but you can't stop screaming and moaning his name while his fingers continue to work wonders inside you.

You don't know how long it's been since you entered this room but you really wish it would never end. You don't want to stop kissing him, you don't want to stop touching him. If it were up to you, you'd stay in here with him for the rest of your life.

"Do you want to come, pretty girl?" he asks huskily against your mouth. You nod barely feeling the pleasure building in your belly.

"Is that what you want, you want me to touch you until you cum in my hands?" he says again and your fingers anchor in his hair, tugging at it.

"Yes, goddamn it!" you cry out in desperation.

His fingers begin to penetrate you harder, hitting right into your sweet spot, the panting becomes relentless, your throat aches and your body trembles. Your vision blurs, every fiber of your body screams with anxiety to reach orgasm. You look him straight in the eyes before you feel the pleasure take hold of you, he is glued in your gaze, his eyes are pure fire. Suddenly you feel the need to have him again.

You pull him to you, seeking his lips as you feel the heat explode in your legs. You kiss him hard to silence your cries as your being fills with pleasure feeling the spasms in your body, you are dazed, lost in the sensation. His mouth is like a magnet to yours, his touch is like fuel to your body.

You are so shocked by your recent orgasm that you can't remember where you are or what exactly you were doing in this place. It was as if everything around you disappeared and you were transported to another place. You've lost your mind. You lost your dignity and your purity.

Right now you are hating your friend so much. But you hate yourself more for letting him touch you. You're hating so much that he's the one who just gave you the best orgasm of your life.

And you knew that nothing was going to be like before after this.

Gavi wasn't going to let this go so easily and you had just given him the reason to drive you crazy.

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Streetlamps & Stories

PAIRING: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

SYNOPSIS: You have a nightmare; Simon is there to comfort you.

A/N: Ngl this is completely self-indulgent and written in about five minutes. Not long either. No warnings, just some good ol' fluff!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

His hands stay at your back, keeping you to his chest as you take deep breaths, shaking a bit. Simon’s shoulders are to the headboard of the bed, slumping against it with no care about how it would begin aching with the length of his endeavor. If that was all that had to come out of this, then he welcomed that ache; that burn of muscle. The man stares at the top of your head and finds your situation far more pressing. 

Throat humming, Simon speaks softly in that graveled tone of his—you feel it reverberate in your bones long after he stops speaking. 

“Breathe,” his fingers drag along your spine, moving in a delicate pattern as he listens to you pause and fill your lungs with a deep breath, feeling your pulse through your skin. Not once does he keep his hands off of you—giving you a place to ground yourself; a way to focus on him, his touch. To see you draw comfort from it was better than any gift he could ever receive. 

“Good girl,” Simon mutters, dark eyes half-closed as he makes sure you’re not going to delve into a panic. His thumb runs each knob of your bone.

It was still night out—deep night. A kind of night that had everyone inside, even the less-than-savory folks; a small pattering of rain to the window was only the beginning, mist shrouding the streets and the sidewalks. The streetlights, the only source of illumination, created shadows along the ruffled sheets, where minutes earlier feet had kicked in a panicked stupor. 

Above all, Simon was a light sleeper.

You could whisper his name at any moment when his eyes were closed, and they’d snap back with a sharp utterance of a question. Tap him briefly on the shoulder or grab his arm? The man was already moving to reach for you, eyes roving the room. Was it healthy? Perhaps not, but it was the state Simon would be in until his death. A kind of hypervigilance that only grew when you were beside him in the very place he slept. 

While your form just as easily put him to bed, your fingers running through his hair creating a spell of their own, it was far from difficult to say you were an enabler of his habit. 

Simon just didn’t want you anywhere near danger, and when he was vulnerable, even his inner conscious knew to look for you. But unlike his nightly terrors, something different had happened tonight. 

Your soft voice hadn’t woken him, telling him to stop holding you so tightly and to let you stumble off to the bathroom—neither had your heavenly touch. 

Your whimpers had.

It was the most scared that Simon could remember being, as his body flinched awake; already alert and reaching in the dark. He’d heard the tiny mutters; the shuddering breaths as if trying to breathe properly. At first, his mind had gone to the worst things—an intruder, an unseen threat coming to get payback. But no, after jerking up and placing a hand to your side, curling over you as he scanned the room with blinking eyes…there was nothing. Nothing in the darkness, nothing to be spied on or seen hiding in the corners waiting to strike. Just cricket chirps and the settling of the house. The small patter of rain.

The man had been confused, admittingly, until you started shaking under the covers, and your sounds of distress got louder. 

Simon’s eyes had locked on your face, watching, and he’d understood in a millisecond.

Nightmare.

Hand setting itself to your shoulder, he had shaken you awake until your started eyes could lock with his—blinking quickly and lungs heaving. They were wide and unfocused, darting back and forth. 

Without a word, the man had taken you into his arms, shifting, until he could drag your body to his chest and hold you there in the relative blackness of night. Back to the headboard.

He’d not stopped watching you, even now.

“Sorry,” you stuttered out, voice hoarse. Your nose sniffles a bit, fingers still quivering.

“Don’t be,” Simon mutters, his cheek moving to rest on the top of your head. Around you, his arms tighten, a grunt stuck in his chest. “Not your fault.”

You take more deep breaths, trying to push back that sting in the very base of your eyes. A hand comes up, fingers capturing the underside of your chin to tilt it upward. It was like he knew what would come after, even if the times you’d seen him cry after his own nightmares were able to be counted on your fingers. He’d always said he’d had the same ones over and over again, and while they still scared him, they weren’t worth his tears anymore.

But that didn’t apply to you.

Brown eyes stay locked with yours, slowly shifting around the build of your face as the minutes move on. He blinks slowly, those lashes of his caressing his scarred cheeks.

You only let the tears dribble out when his lips carefully press themselves into your forehead. 

A thin sob hitches your chest, a tiny fight with your conscious, but Simon’s lips don’t move, and his hand travels to grasp the back of your head, thumb running back and forth across your scalp. 

He hums in the back of his throat, saying into your skin, “It’s alright. I’m ‘ere.” 

Your arms snake out, wrapping his waist and curling into him like an animal, wanting nothing more than to feel his skin and how his scars live under your touch. To hear his constant heartbeat, and to soak in the warmth of his flesh from an interrupted sleep. 

Simon’s soft voice grumbles out after a moment of your muffled sob. The sound made his heart clench in on itself. He was supposed to be the one with the nightmares, not you. “You want to talk about it, Love?”

Immediately, your head shakes, pushing deeper into his neck, pushing out a quick refusal. 

“Just hold me,” you whisper, tears wetting Simon’s skin, dripping down his chest. He doesn’t even think about commenting on it. 

He nods firmly, as if given an important order of the direst need, his head moving up and his arms pulling you ever closer, sheets around his legs. Grunting, he shifts you, an arm going under your knees and the other curling your shoulders. Simon won’t say he isn’t concerned, because he is. You’d always do that to him, especially when you’re crying.

He hates it when you cry.

You having a nightmare was rare, especially one that resulted in waking up to tears. Yet, he’d hold you just as you held him through his, knowing it worked when you whispered things into his ears until that was all he could focus on. Your touch, your…goodness. He didn't have the correct words that he felt truly expressed how much he wanted you to calm down, so Simon tried another route.

Your route.

“I tell you about my time in Finland?”

Stories.

Your thin voice moves out, lips at his pulse, as the long streaks of the streetlamps outside make dancing shadows over your bodies. 

“Yes.” A pause and Simon’s eyes stare at nothing as he hears you speak—feels the tight hold of your arms. “But tell me again.”

So, he does. 

He doesn’t tell you, of course, but if you asked, he’d talk until his tongue went black.