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hakesbros · 2 years ago

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shadowsinger11 · 4 years ago

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Adult Fun

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Requested by @theweasleytwinsgirl: hi love, can i request a fred fic in which it is quarantine then reader and fred try do it but their baby keeps on crying, thanks love!

Warnings: smut in case you haven't figured this out, pouty Freddie is adorable af

A/N: My god, I actually loved this request a lot! And I really enjoyed writing it lmao

Gif is not mine

Masterlist

Having a child with Fred was a blessing. The war was merciful enough to let you leave unharmed and years later you were lucky enough to have a baby of your own as you had dreamed for such long time.

Fred was an incredible father, no doubt, he was extremely caring and loving, showing a much softer side to your kid; one you'd never guess he had. But with the responsibility of raising a child came very limited time for you and Fred to relax, and it was understandable to say that your husband had become unusually moody over the past year since your baby was born.

Fred truly loved being a parent, but he really missed those passionate, intimate moments he used to share with you as his wife. He missed having your body trembling beneath him, he missed the feeling of your heated skin moving against his.

His need for you was growing stronger overtime and it had become terribly obvious when he started to walk around your house shirtless more often, pants hanging a little lower and hair messier than usual. But you couldn't really blame him; you'd been craving some adult time with your lover just as much as he did.

When quarantine struck, you handled it surprisingly well.

It was unpleasant to not be able to meet your loved ones for awhile, but at least you and Fred had more time to spend with each other. That's when his touches became lingering, more urgent and even slightly rough. Gentle caresses of your thighs and hips would turn into squeezing the soft flesh and chaste kisses would end with his tongue between your lips.

You hated to admit that the lack of intimacy was taking a toll on you as well. And unfortunately, baby naps weren't of enough time for you to catch up with what you both desperately wanted.

And that's why you tried very hard to keep yourselves busy while being stuck at home with your baby asleep upstairs.

Dozens of movies, TV shows, board games and even some poor cooking attempts which ended in a disaster, did nothing to help you and Fred in the months of a global pandemic and you ended up lying on the couch in your living room with absolutely nothing to.

"Merlin, I cannot possibly watch another episode," grumbled Fred, tossing the remote aside. "My head's about to explode."

You chuckled at his antic, but couldn't help but agree, "Honestly, mine too."

Your legs were nestled between Fred's long ones, head resting peacefully on his chest as he lazily ran fingers through your hair. You buried your face into the cotton of his red T-shirt and inhaled his characteristic scent of coffee and cedar, not planning to move away anytime soon. It had been exceptionally rare to be able to spend entire days simply cuddling your lover, but once quarantine happened, you often found yourselves snuggled up on the couch in your pajamas and you cherished those moments of seemingly eternal peace and security.

The way Fred tenderly caressed your sides up and down nearly caused you to fall asleep and you hugged him closer.

"You know what we haven't done in awhile?" Fred's low, groggy voice brought you back to consciousness. You slightly pulled away to look at him and sat between his legs.

After months of not having to run the shop, Fred didn't find it as necessary as before to make himself that presentable and his wild ginger hair now nearly reached his shoulders. But at the end, it was you who most enjoyed his messy, laid back look.

You lifted a hand to caress his cheek, thin stubble tingling your fingertips, and asked timidly, already having a vague idea.

"What?"

Fred involuntarily licked his lips and reached a hand to the collar of your thin shirt, gently slipping the hem down your shoulder to expose your bare neck and collarbones. His thumb traced patterns over the sensitive skin, causing goosebumps to rise upon it, and you looked into his eyes, dark brown irises blown with desire which you hadn't encountered in a long time and made you shudder under his touch.

"It's been awhile since I last had you," he purred, the corners of his lips curling up in a dark smirk that immediately sent you into submission and had you craving. "Will you let me have you now, little girl?"

Your mind immediately wandered to your child.

"What about the baby?" you asked, worried.

"Nothing will happen as long as we're quiet," Fred shrugged, then switched back to his dominant persona and caressed your bottom lip with his thumb. "Can you be quiet for me?"

A strangled moan tore from your throat before you managed to stop it, and you eagerly placed your legs on either side of your lover's lap, wrapping hands around his neck. Fred's grin grew wider at your neediness and his hands came down to greedily squeeze your hips and ass. He slammed his mouth onto yours, devouring your desperate whimpers and causing you to grip the hair at the nape of his neck.

You rolled your hips against Fred's, hinting at how impatient you were, and he was more than happy to carefully lay you back on the couch and slip off your pajama shorts. His eyes stared at your black panties, undoubtedly damp at that point, and you could tell by his furrowed brow that Fred was already recalling all the things he'd planned to do to you for quite a long time.

"Darling, we have a lot of catching up to do," he breathed and ran a finger over your clothed core. It was warm and positively soaked, and Fred's mind went wild with uncontrollable hunger. His fingers tugged at the hem of your panties and slowly slid them down your thighs and legs, aiming to savor the moment before finally getting what he wanted.

The desire growing in his pants made it very clear that Fred needed release just as much as you did, so you let a hand wander down your body, giving him a show of your exposed pussy. You knew your game had worked when you earned a low growl from Fred, and he crawled between your legs, tongue wettening your swollen lips with one long lick.

"Fred..." you sighed and your head fell back, hands coming down to fist his ginger locks once again.

A cry from upstairs caused Fred to pull away.

You shared a knowing, slightly disappointed look. Fred groaned quietly, but rose to his feet nonetheless.

"I'll get it."

You lied back with a heavy sigh, staring up at the ceiling for the few extremely long minutes in which Fred was gone. You were relieved when the crying soon ceased, and you grinned widely as your lover crawled up to you, looking at you up and down.

"Where were we?" he asked smugly, smiling against your lips. You giggled into the kiss, arms grabbing onto his shoulders for support as his hand slipped between your thighs, fingers slyly playing with your folds and getting coated in your juices.

You bit back a low moan, buckling your hips up to create more friction. Fred's pace turned more urgent and he slipped two fingers inside you, thumb rubbing your swollen clit in rapid circles. Your sighs turned into choked gasps and your thighs began to quiver.

That was exactly what Fred had missed so dearly. He missed seeing you in such a pure state of pleasure; the rising and falling of your chest, your puffed parted lips, your eyes squeezed shut from the unbearable euphoria. Fred had terribly missed being the one to make you feel ecstatic.

Soon the spark in your belly ignited and you came hard around Fred's fingers, biting into the back of your hand to muffle the filthy moans that threatened to escape. That was the moment when he found you most beautiful; natural, radiant and happy.

His patience was wearing thin at that point, his erection aching from the lack ot touch, and Fred quickly took off his pants and underwear. His thick cock was painfully hard, the red swollen tip already leaking precum, and the prominent vein from the underside had you longing to taste it.

Fred gave his length a few slow strokes and your mouth began to water.

You eagerly spread your legs, inviting your lover to take you, and he nearly did, holding your thighs open to position himself at your entrance.

But the baby cried out again.

Fred cursed under his breath, the frustration finally taking over him for not being able to make love to you properly.

"I don't understand!" he whined, pulling back to sit on the couch. "It's not hungry, nor does it need a change of the diaper. What am I doing wrong?"

You moved closer to him and brushed a strand of ginger hair behind his ear. His pouty face both made you want to laugh and be sympathetic, and you gave him a sweet, apologetic smile.

"Chances are, it probably only needs a bit of some motherly charm to fall asleep."

Fred still seemed unsatisfied with having been interrupted after finally getting some alone time with you for the first time in what seemed like forever, but he didn't object as you put your clothes back on and left to check up on the baby.

However, before you walked up the stairs, you glanced at Fred over your shoulder with a mischievous smirk that immediately replaced the scowl on his face with a hungry expression.

"Give me a few minutes. And then I'm sucking you off."

@self-ship-love @susceptible-but-siriusexual @hufflexpuff @neovannii

Message me if you want to be added to the tag list, babes

Reblog my work if you enjoyed it!

Masterlist

#fred weasley x reader smut #fred weasley x reader fluff #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley smut #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley #fred weasley headcanons #fred weasley headcanon #fred weasley imagines #fred weasley imagine #george weasley #weasley twins x reader #weasley twins #weasley twins headcanons #harry potter imagines #harry potter imagine

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revengeisourlullaby · 4 years ago

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Lucky You

Warnings: Pro hero Au, 18+, smut, unprotected sex, switch Izuku, slight mommy kink (like once or twice), dom themes, body worship, cunnilingus, blowjobs, edging, fluffy ending bc i’m feeling soft :3

a/n: hope this is not too ooc for him! i’ve always pictured deku to be somewhat of a closeted dom so i hope i did that theory justice. i also am really enjoying writing fics so maybe i’ll start taking requests if my writing is smth of interest! :)

Pro Hero Izuku x Female! Reader

Word count: 3.4k

Izuku had been on call for the past week so when he finally had the day off you guys took full advantage of it. The nights you spent with a cold spot in your shared bed started to take a toll on you. With your work schedule and tattered sleep cycle, it seemed like you hadn’t seen Izuku for weeks. You always saw the remnants of him. Water droplets around the sink, the residual heat of the coffee pot in the kitchen, but it seemed like you always missed him. It was maddening.

Today though you two decided to remedy the situation at hand. After spending the early portion of the day lounging around your home, you guys went out to dinner. Reveling in the time you were sharing with one another as well as the meal placed in front of you two, you felt like things were finally falling back into place. Once you two returned back to your home, you both kicked your shoes off at the door.

You walked into your shared bedroom to switch into some more comfortable clothes. The idea of sitting in jeans after stuffing yourself was ungodly. As you were stepping out of your jeans, Izuku had stepped into the bedroom staring at you from the doorway. You gave a small smile to him looking over your shoulder and continued to undress. Izuku returned your smile and stepped further into the room.

Sitting on the bed he followed suit and changed into comfy house wear. Walking up to the dresser, you decided to tease him a little bit. Grabbing one of his t-shirts you threw it on and turned around to look at him. You knew when you wore his clothes Izuku lost his grip on reality.

It sent him into the most euphoric orbit knowing that you enjoyed having him around you like that. He stood up to come to the dresser to grab his grey sweatpants. Looking up from the floor he saw you and his eyes widened a bit. Blinking a little excessively, a smile finally adorned his lips.

“Nice shirt right?” shooting him a cheeky grin, you wrapped your hands around his neck and he placed his hands on the curve of your hips.

“Very nice shirt. I actually think it's new.” he punctuated his statement with a small kiss on your lips, grinning widely as he pulled away. Wanting to soak up as much time with him as possible you decided to drag him out into the main room with you.

“C’mon let's watch a movie or something. We can cuddle up together.”

You heard him chuckle behind you and you plopped down on the couch, patting the spot next to you a little too eagerly. Fumbling with the remotes in an attempt to change the tv settings quickly you heard him speak up.

“So, what are we gonna watch?”

“Umm I’m not too sure, I didn’t make it that far yet.” letting out a light chuckle you finally got the settings in order. You settled back into the couch right next to Izuku and posed a question

“How bout a horror movie?”

Izuku slowly turned his head toward you,

“Y/N, you and I both know the only reason you’re suggesting that is so you can nestle into me.”

You lifted your head up to look at him and quickly he sputtered out

“Not that I have a problem with that I’m just saying” he looked down toward his lap almost embarrassed with himself. You brought your hand to his cheek and turned his face to you

“Not you getting this embarrassed already and I haven't even put the movie on. I didn’t even get to see you scared yet.”

“Y/N…”

“I’m just teasing you know that, let's put on Insidious.”

“Babe, please anything but that one.” You had to laugh. You knew how he hated that movie but you couldn’t help but get a kick out of his squirms whenever it was on.

“C’mon I know it’s your favorite...” smirking you looked up at him through your lashes. “...And we can switch it up a little, you can cuddle into me this time.” You wrapped one of your arms around his back and the other laying across his stomach.

“Alright, put it on.” he huffed out with a small chuckle following it. You giggled in excitement and started streaming the movie. This was one of your favorite films but for the life of you, your brain could not focus on it. The beat of Izuku’s heart, the scent of his cologne that lingered on his skin, the small jolt his body would send whenever he got a little scared by the film. You couldn’t help it, all your focus was on him. Now have completely forgotten about the movie, you felt that it was necessary to start teasing Izuku.

It started with small touches. The hand that was resting on his stomach you snaked under his shirt and rubbed across his toned abs. You felt him flex in surprise but he eventually relaxed and let out the breath that he didn’t realize he was holding in. You smirked to yourself and decided to become a little more bold in your movements.

Moving your hand further south, you began playing with the hem of his sweatpants. His breath hitched and he looked down at you,

“Y-Y/N- what are you doing?”

“I’m watching the movie, Izzy”

“I-I, okay”

Izuku was desperately trying to relax because heat was beginning to rush to his groin. His breathing picked up and you realized that this would be the perfect moment to tease him even more. Snaking your hand underneath his sweats, you trailed your hand across his length only to rest it on his bare thigh. You heard his mouth part open to say something, but you palmed him through his briefs and stopped him in his tracks. A breathy moan escaped past his lips and you smirked.

“Y/N, I- uh”

You continued palming him through his briefs and felt it was time to finish off the teasing. Pulling your hand out of his pants you looked up at him and his eyes were glossed over in sheer want. A glint of disappointment coming through his pupils. You brought yourself up from his side and straddled his lap. Cupping his face in your hands you got agonizingly close to his lips. The two of you suspended in time waiting on one another to make the first move. Brushing the tip of your nose against him and parting your lips you grind your hips into his.

“Baby, please stop with the teasing” Izuku moaned out against you.

You smiled to yourself, enjoying the fact that he had given into you. Capturing his lips, you kissed him like it was going to be your last. His skin against yours made your blood boil in the best way possible. Your body was on fire and your kisses were becoming full of need.

You grabbed at the hair on the nape of Izuku’s neck and grinded into him even more so. The feeling of his hardness turning your pussy into a wanton mess. Izuku brought his hips up to meet yours, his desperation for you now becoming physical. Izuku pulled away from you and looked you in your eyes. One of his hands wrapping around the back of your neck, forcing you to look at him.

“Y/N, baby, I can’t take it anymore, I need you.” His eyes were that of a doe, pleading with you to give him some relief. He rutted himself up into you to emphasize his point. You knew you had full control at this point and you were gonna take full advantage of it before his neediness left his system. Lifting yourself up, you pulled your underwear to the side and rubbed yourself into his thigh. Hearing him moan slightly, you pulled yourself from him, standing up. A small string of your slick snapping off once you left Izuku’s thigh. Leaving him stranded on the couch, you turned and faced him over your shoulder

“If you need me so bad, you’re gonna have to follow me”

You walked out of the main room and into your shared bedroom. You sat on the edge of the bed waiting for Izuku to come in, and when he did the sexual tension in the room was thick. He almost stalked over to you, seeming as if his previous neediness faded that quickly. But you refused to have your control lost this early in the moment. When he came up to you, you grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him towards the bed. With his back flat against the bed you straddled him once again. Kissing him to ensure your dominance you trailed your lips to his jawline, landing at his earlobe and you lightly nipped it. A soft moan erupted from his throat and it went straight to your core.

Kissing down his neck, you realized he still had his shirt on.

“We’re gonna need to take this off to do it right.”

Removing him from his shirt, you took a moment to admire his body. His physique never failing to amaze you. His chiseled body making you drool from excitement.

“You’re staring, baby”

“How could I not. You’re so beautiful to look at Izuku.”

Watching him go red you continued your assault on his skin. Trailing down his body you felt his breath quicken when you reached the band of his sweats with your mouth. Lifting your head up you felt his eyes on you and made contact. Attempting to size him down with just your eyes.

“Lift your hips up for me honey.”

Once Izuku lifted up his hips, you brought your teeth to the waistband and pulled them down past his knees. Coming back up and doing the same with his briefs.

“Y/N, please I can’t take the teasing much more. Just do something please.”

Bringing your head up to look at him one more time to just egg him on, you slowly slid your hand up his thigh and resting it to wrap around his hard cock.

“Now, while your begging was expected, you’re forgetting one important thing to do baby”

Giving his cock lazy strokes you gathered spit in your mouth and lolled your tongue out so it spilled over his length. His breath hitched and a small whimper slipped past his lips.

“M-mommy. Please. Please suck all the stupid cum out of my cock. I need you so bad mommy.”

Pools of lust darkened your pupils and a smirk adorned your face, happy with Izuku’s last ditch efforts.

“Atta boy.”

Lowering your head down you circled your tongue around the tip of his cock. Paying extra attention to the underside of the head, knowing how sensitive Izuku was there. Licking a stripe up from the bottom of his shaft you began bobbing your head up and down. Bringing both of your hands into play. You brought one to help you finish off the rest of Izuku’s length and the other moved to play with his balls. Once your hand began fondling his balls Izuku’s labored breaths turned into echoing whimpers.

“Fuck, mommy, Please keep doing that. God you feel so good.”

Humming in response you felt a wave of pride surge through you. You picked up your pace and sucked just a little bit harder around his considerable length.

“Fuck, baby ~ah! Keep going like that, I’m gonna cum so hard”

Deciding to egg him on because you love how desperate his moans sound, you slowly pulled yourself off of his throbbing cock and looked up at him. His cries were like symphonies to your ears. Izuku brought himself up onto his elbows so he could get a better look at you.

“I’m sorry Izzy, what was that?”

“Y/N, if you don’t put your mouth back on me-”

“Is that really the way you should be talking to your mo-!”

Izuku sat up fully and grabbed your face within his hand, squishing your cheeks together.

“Darling, I’m always more than patient with you, but I said not to tease me anymore. And what did you do?”

“Tease you…”

The vitriolic glare that fell down from his eyes told you that you had royally fucked up. Sending you immediately into a submissive space you were ready to do whatever he asked of you. Sinking further into your heels you stared up at Izuku with your hands placed upon your plush thighs.

“I’m sorry Izuku, I’ll make it up to you, let me make you feel good...please.”

Izuku stared down at you before saying anything, making you feel miniscule under his gaze.

“Get up on the bed. I think I’m gonna make you feel good now.”

Izuku’s smirk that lined his face let you know that this wasn’t going to be an easy make you feel good situation. You were gonna have to work for it and you were going to pay for your teasing bit from before. Sliding himself up in between your legs, he wrapped his arms around your hips, locking you into place. Nuzzling his nose against your clothed clit you shivered and you pressed yourself into him. Hearing him chuckle he looked up at you from your hips.

“Little bit eager are we?”

Squirming underneath his gaze you fully realized how much you wanted him, but before you could get to begging he beat you to it. On a mission to make your face heat up for him.

“Look at this body of yours baby. You’re so beautiful.”

Dragging his hands up to your chest, he dragged his hand down the valley of your breasts.

“These perfect little tits of yours.”

He emphasized his point by rolling your hard buds between his fingers.

“This perfectly cute tummy of yours, and fuck these thighs of yours. You’re so sexy baby.”

Bringing his hand down to your thighs again, he squeezed them causing an airy moan to escape from your throat.

“Izuku, please, do something. I-I can’t take it.”

Hooking his fingers into the elastic of your underwear he stared back at you, green waves falling in front of his eyes.

“And how do you think I felt, darling? But, I’m not like you, I’ll give you what you want and I’ll do it with such intensity you’ll forget how to be such a brat with me.”

Coming back up to your heat, he licked a messy stripe up your folds. Chuckling at the twitch your body made when in contact with his sloppy tongue. Swirling his tongue around your hole, he dragged his wet muscle up to your clit and began circling it.

“Fuck, Izuku, baby don’t stop.”

Feeling your cunt start to flutter with a bit more vigor he removed one of his hands from your hips and brought it down to your soaking core. Inserting his middle finger into your hole, he rubbed against your g spot. The spongy feeling igniting something within him. He wanted to bring you so close to the edge and then rip you from it. The euphoric assault happening on your pussy elicited a scream to rip through your throat.

“Fuck! Fuck Izuku I’m gonna cum if you keep doing that. Oh shit~”

Soon you felt his finger slide out of your hole and the disappearance of it made you whine.

“Should’ve kept quiet babygirl. I knew you were close but c’mon I can’t let you off that easy. But, I’ve got something even better for you.

Izuku brought himself up from your hips and lowered his head down to kiss you. The taste of yourself fresh in your mouth. His tongue trailed itself along your plump bottom lip asking for further entrance into your wet cavern. Opening your mouth a little wider, your tongues danced for dominance. You felt his hips roll into yours and you reciprocated the action aching to get just one feeling of your boyfriend’s fat cock.

“Can you feel it, grinding against you baby. You feel how much I want you. How much I want to be inside your cute little hole”

You grabbed his face in both of your hands and forced him to look down at you. A little bit of your dominance coming back for this small moment.

“Yes, I feel it and I want you inside me so bad Izuku, I need it. I need you inside me. I want to feel every inch of you caressing my walls.”

Bringing his forehead down to rest against yours, he rubbed in your arousal just a little bit more.

“Yeah, you sure that’s what you want baby?”

“Yes! Now please, fuck me Izuku, please!”

With that Izuku smiled, pleased with your performance of begging so earnestly for him. He lined his cock up with your weeping entrance, your hole twitching with just his head poking into it.

“Izuku please- please just put it in I don’t think I can ho~ah! Fuck!”

Izuku had thrust the rest of his length into you. Sending you into a state of such bliss, your eyes rolled into the back of your head and a moan so loud came from your throat. Your hands clawed at the sheets below you in a poor attempt to ground yourself against Izuku’s pounding.

“Look at that cock disappearing inside you angel. Fuuckk, you take me so well.”

Izuku’s head dropped so that it nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his hot breath creating small droplets of moisture upon your neck. You felt his rhythm begin to speed up and in doing so he angled up just slightly, attacking your g spot. You couldn’t help but whimper against him. Bringing your hands up from the sheets you sent your nails into his back. Causing a growl to erupt on his end.

“Fuck! God damn those nails baby. You must really like the way I’m fucking you, yeah? I can feel you squeezing down on me.”

Wrapping your legs around his back you pulled him closer into you feeling your rapture on the horizon.

“Yes, fuck I love it so much. So much, I’m gonna-”

Remembering the denial Izuku brought earlier to you, you stopped yourself. Giving a quick moment to rearrange your words.

“Please Izuku. Please let me cum. I need it. ‘N I want you to cum inside me baby, please fuck!”

Izuku pistoned his hips, his cock hitting you in your most tender spots and sending you right over the edge. Your orgasm ripped through you causing your body to convulse in pure bliss. Unable to control your body a moan coursed through you, sending Izuku to his break. Your begging and incessant twitching throwing him over his climax. A graceless joint of euphoria overcoming you two as you felt his hot seed paint your walls his color.

Pants filled the space in the air making up for lost words. The room smelled of sex and yet the only thing that filled your mind was the beautiful man above you. His green locks sticking to his face and the previous lust in his eyes being replaced with adoration for his lover beneath him. Pressing a gentle kiss to your lips he pulled away to look at you once more.

“God, I love you so much Y/N. Every time I stare into your eyes I swear I fall more in love with you each time.”

Pulling himself out of you he rolled onto his back letting a sigh fall past his lips. You rolled over onto your stomach crawling up to him. Resting your head on his chest you brought your hand up to his neck and fingered through his hair. Trailing your hand to his face, rubbing his cheek with your thumb.

“I love you too Izuku. Sometimes more than what’s good for me. But I can’t help it. Something about you keeps me wanting more. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Now having made Izuku red and at a loss for words, he settled for a kiss on your forehead and you two laid in each other's presence. Soaking in the ambiance of each other.

#midoriya x reader #deku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #deku smut #midoriya smut #pro hero au #my hero academia #my hero academia x reader #my hero academia smut

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equestrianwritingsstuff · 4 years ago

Note

I hope you are having a great day.

I wanted to tell you that I love the way you write and how you show the personality of your characters in so few words.

Also if you have time, for the Bad Things Happend Bingo, could I ask for a Soup for the Sick? (Maybe a villain whumpee)

Thank you for the ask! And especially thank you for that lovely message attached to it, it means a lot!

Soup for the sick... here you go, I hope you enjoy! I did, I had lots of fun writing this one.

Personalized Caretaker

@badthingshappenbingo

Warnings: drug abuse mention, feverish whumpee, talk of medications, mean caretaker, delirium, fever, pills (tylenol)

... there may be more so tell me if there is so I can list them.

Civilian wished that she didn't live in the most heavily super-powered city in the world.

Yes world.

Villains and heroes all running around like teenagers, not caring for the lives of innocent civilians... or the heroes were meant to, Civilian started to think that the whole "we will protect you" was all phony propaganda aimed to get the city to fund their organization.

But the daily bombings and increasing death toll was not the issue with the city. It wasn't even the large mass of heroes and villains. It was only one.

One.

Of all the heroic figures and devilish snakes, there was only one that ticked Civilian off.

Villain.

And not because he was the King of Monologues. No, it was because the bastard made Civilian his own personal caretaker.

Was she asked to tend to his very needs? No.

Was she hired? Paid? No, but she should be getting a salary for the tedious work of stitching wounds and feeding his greedy stomach. The bandage bills were adding up and Civilian's meager wage was completely wiped out from having to buy a pack every day.

She was an inch away from going on a rage and robbing every bank in the city.

No, she wasn't. She just happened to live on 489 Deertree Avenue, where six months ago the murderous villain decided to collapse unconscious on her doorstep to bleed out like it was no problem.

Like it was a leisure, a recreational activity. Probably to him, waking up in a warm bed, doped up on painkillers with the sickening sweet smell of caramel candles burning around him, it was.

But not to Civilian. She had to manually help the injured individual drink water, get dressed, and even use the bathroom.

UGGGHHHH!

The man had millions of henchmen, billions of wannabe minions at his beck and call.

But he just so happened to have a crush on the red door of 489 Deertree Avenue.

But it was a bad case of unrequited love of the highest order, so no hope of a romantic candlelit date at the most expensive restaurant in the most famous city in the world.

Dairy Queen.

The pure hilarity of that fact. Even the Avenger Tower did not hold nearly as many powered or high-tech individuals as the city and the most fanciest restaurant was a chain fastfood restaurant at the corner of main street.

Civilian clenched the towel she was holding. As much as the stupidity of the city got on her nerves, it was very unpatriotic of her to go on and embarrass the area even more.

Civilian was scrubbing the mirror in the bathroom. The walls of the whole room were stained in the most disgusting brown and red from all the grime and blood radiating off a singular person's- not even the owner of the house- body.

Those would never go away unless Civilian paid for someone to come and mega-wash the bathroom. Not that she had any money to invest in such a delightful gift, her bank account was too busy supporting the prescribed pain medications. Like, Civilian was probably on the watchlist for utter bankruptcy and for being a possible candidate for drug addiction.

Who needs two whole containers of opioids and a canteen of valium every three months?

Not a normal civilian washing floors at Walmart, that's for sure.

But then again, Civilian was far from normal. She worked as a personalized savior during her freetime.

Civilian clenched her teeth and took a deep breath in. Her ward hasn't made his grand appearance in over a week. She actually had time to relax, make some popcorn and actually decompress. It was like vacation, peaceful, tranquil and full of serenity, free of any-

Knock, knock, knock.

Civilian's moment of bliss was unceremoniously ended by the all too familiar beat of a fist on wood.

"You have my permission to make out with the door Villain! You don't need to ask anymore!"

Civilian hoped Villain was coherent enough to internalize that as an invitation to bleed on her couch.

Just so she could have one more moment. One more moment of her coveted break.

Cough.

Civilian's head perked up. That was new. She never, ever heard Villain cough in a sickly manner- she never let him get bad enough to get sick, or he didn't permit himself to wait around until infection and fever set in.

She set down the towel, worry settling into her bones like it always did- not that she liked the heart dropping feelings and nauseating pit in her stomach each and everytime Mr. Needy had blood on him. Or everyday that he didn't show up for a bandaid, or a "kiss-it-better".

Yes, the pure humiliation when her delirious patient painfully begged her to kiss his knee better. Like, the puny scrape on his leg was by far the least severe wound on his bloodstained body, but of course, Civilian complied and gave him a little peck on his Olaf bandaid.

Civilian ripped open the door and the scene in front of her chased away those obnoxious memories.

Villain collapsed into her arms, head lolling pathetically against her shoulder. His forehead felt like it was doused with gasoline and then lit by a torch five times over. Civilian's shocked arms involuntarily wrapped around his equally scorching body. Yes, it was not a conscious act. Not in a million years would Civilian muster up the compassion to actually comfort the villain more than the deed of "saving his life" called for.

No, no Civilian hated Villain. Completely and totally loathed each and every cell on his body.

But she dragged him into the house and shut- more like slammed- the door anyways because she couldn't let him die, it would be like murder's sidekick.

Especially since Villain trusted her. Oh how he trusted her. Trusted her to bathe him, to feed him, to give him medicine, but most importantly not to kill him. With all the horrors he committed, a swift knife to the throat would be more than justified. In fact, Civilian would likely be commemorated for such bravery.

Public approval, fame... all a deliciously yummy cake.

Not worth it. Too many calories.

Civilian sunk to the ground and put Villain's upper body in her lap. He nestled into her, pressing his cheek deep into her side with a small, contented smile on his pale face.

"Don't drool on me," Civilian snapped, jostling Villain who woke up. Before he had the chance to get his bearings, Civilian spoke up again, "Are you hurt?"

The villain stared at her for a while before breaking into desperate tears, shaking his head.

What the heck?

"Stop crying or I will punch you," Civilian threatened, but she rubbed Villain's back soothingly.

"Dying," Villain sobbed.

"You are not dying, buddy, you have a cold."

"No, I'm dying," Villain asserted. Civilian rolled her eyes. Did he have to be so dramatic?

"I don't think a cold will kill you. Stop acting like the world is ending now, or I will throw you in the trash."

Villain whimpered and pulled himself closer, still crying.

He really was sick. So sick to the point of being delirously delusional.

"You don't need to be a Disney princess," Civilian said, still rubbing the villain's back. Villain's cries turned into sobs and then into wails.

Okay this was getting out of hand. Civilian stood up and dragged Villain's body over to the couch. She marveled in her strength for a while. When Villain first made his appearance in her otherwise boring life, she was as skinny as a twig. Now? This girl was a freaking hulk, baby.

Okay stop that, Civilian chastised herself, shaking her head and rolling her eyes. She laid Villain on the beige colored couch and rested his wet head against a pillow that was metaphorically marked with his name.

Now that the villain was completely stretched out, Civilian- to her relief- found that he was not bleeding, therefore, she didn't have to waste her precious supply of gauze and bandages tonight.

But he still was very, very sick. His face was a gray mask of pale complexion, his hair snarled and matted in sweat. His lips were tinged blue as unfocused eyes gazed around the room, landing on the TV.

"You want to watch something?" Civilian asked, though the question was more than unnecessary. Villain always watched a movie as he dozed off, warm and comforted by the mound of blankets strewn over him.

But still, like a habit, he nodded weakly each and every time. Civilian smiled, the tiniest of grins, and connected the tablet to the television. When the screen popped up with the classic Amazon Prime Video layout, Civilian asked what movie.

"Boss Baby," Villain mumbled, lips hardly moving.

"You want to watch a movie with baby superheroes? Why don't we watch Toy Story or something?"

Or something a bit more adult-ish.

"Mhm," Villain groaned, eyes slipping shut. "Baby superheroes."

Now it was Civilian's turn to groan, loud and exaggerated. But, still he was her unwelcome guest so she had to please his obnoxiously childish wants.

Like how old was he? Five?

Civilian put in the movie and sat down next to Villain, putting his legs on her lap. She tapped lazily at his jeans as the opening credits showed. Leaning her head back, Civilian allowed her gaze to drift away from the stupid fat-faced animated figures and to Villain.

He was nearly asleep.

Civilian shifted her weight and rested against her arm to watch him. Even sick, she had to admit, the evil and annoying villain was shockingly handsome.

What was she thinking?!

Pushing Villain's feet away, Civilian stood up and aggressively shoved her palm to his forehead. It was buzzing with heat.

"You are paying for the bill," Civilian growled and went to go get some tylenol.

Upon returning to the sickly man's sweaty side, Civilian thrusted the pills into his mouth and washed them down with water. She didn't even give him a chance to wake up fully, the motion was instinctual. He swallowed on reflex.

Next, Civilian cussed herself for this, she cupped his cheek. Villain sunk into her palm, chewing silently, and continued to sleep.

When Villain first visited, Civilian couldn't get over how touch starved the poor guy was. It was to the point of absolute fear of touch. He would shiver before violently flinching away, glaring daggers.

He still didn't allow hugs or a highfive when he was in his right mind- not that Civilian saw him fully conscious ever apart from a couple times.

"Hungry?" Civilian mumbled, more to herself than anyone.

Still, Civilian placed Villain's head back onto the pillow and went into the kitchen to make some soup.

Chicken noodle soup with rice... her specialty. Chicken breast and rich seasoning, even one's dampened taste buds could taste the utter deliciousness of the watery broth.

Then the rice. Sometimes when Villain was on the mend, she would add some wild rice or lentils to the dish. Spooning some basic white rice into the bottom of the bowl, Civilian tapped her foot aimlessly.

The kettle on the stove whistled, Civilian pushed it off the heat and added the seasoning and celery. The savory scent wafted into her nose earning itself a tiny smile from Civilian.

Once the soup was done, she presented it to the still sleeping villain. His mouth hung open, desperate for air that his clogged nostrils couldn't deliver.

Dang. Poor guy was really ill.

Civilian sat next to Villain, so close that she could feel the rise of his chest. She shoved his face upwards. Villain blinked his eyes open and settled his gaze on Civilian's annoyed, but worried, face.

"Ghm," he moaned, rumbled in the back of his throat in a fatigued manner. "Cow hopping."

"Shut up," Civilian scolded and helped Villain to a seating position. He complied, but had no strength left to actually hold the stance.

So Civilian was forced to lay him against her chest and feed him by giving him a big old bear hug. Spoon after spoon went to his mouth until Civilian was just dumping it into his mouth without any natural swallowing reflex.

She took a wet rag and cleaned his face before laying him back onto the couch. Civilian smiled and tenderly touched his eyebrow.

Why did she have to care about him so much?

#bad things happen bingo #villain whumpee #civilian caretaker #villain x civilian #civilian #writing #sick villain #sick whumpee #delirious whumpee

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sickofthistoxicshit · 4 years ago

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So this is a way Way overdue prompt that I got ages ago, but didn't have the time or muse-cooperation to write.

But I finally managed to write it!!

The prompt was given to me by the lovely @coffeeflavoredcookies : Chris all snuggled up to Buck as he tells him bedtime stories with Eddie standing at the door looking at them fondly.

This is fluff all the way, hope you like it ❣

The house was dimly lit when he got back, at this point Christopher would have usually already been in bed - post bedtime story.

But Buck has been staying the last few days with them after getting hurt on a call. Nothing too bad, mild concussion, some bruised ribs and a now relocated shoulder still stuck in a sling, so things aren't exactly on the normal side.

Buck had trouble understanding Eddie’s insistence that he stays with them, not wanting to be a burden (earning him an eye-roll from Eddie) and reminded him that he shouldn’t have to look after a grown-ass man while having an actual child of his own to take care of, (which resulted in Eddie calling Christopher and asking him, on speaker, what he thought of Buck staying with them for the next few days. Christopher cheered and Buck glared at Eddie, mouthing ‘traitor’ at him.)

The thing is, Buck seems to be unable to understand that whenever he’s hurt, physically or emotionally or just generally off-balance, Eddie is thrown to a loop right with him. Eddie would rather have him near and safe than wonder how he is, if he’s sleeping, eating - taking care of himself.

Back when his leg was crushed, so close to losing Shannon, Eddie was very close to saying to hell with Ali and then Maddie and just take him over to their place.

But Buck wasn't his to keep back then, and to be honest he's not his now, but Ali is long gone and Maddie is super pregnant, giving Eddie the best excuse to bundle him into his truck and take him home.

Sore and tired, Buck mostly slept, crashing on the couch, no matter how many times Eddie tried to get him to crash in the master bedroom, at least during the day.

Eddie got used to returning home from work to find Christopher sitting in the living room either doing his homework or playing or watching TV while Buck slept on the couch. Sometimes Christopher could be found nestled to Buck's side as they both nodded off watching some nature documentary.

Eddie has an album in his phone containing multiple pictures of his boys together. He will never get tired of snapping pictures of them, moments frozen in time, forever.

Eddie took his shoes off at the door and dropped his bag next to them. He showered at the station so he wouldn't waste time with Christopher in favor of washing the day off, he quickly rinsed his hands with soup, a habit left from crazed Covid days, then went in search of his boys.

The house was quiet, and the normally occupied couch was empty. Eddie made his way to Christopher’s room, already recognizing Buck’s low gravel voice, reading what sounded like “I Had Trouble in Getting to Solla Sollew”, Buck got Christopher the book a couple of weeks prior to his injury.

He told Christopher that Maddie used to read it to him when he was younger. They read it so many times, that both of them knew it by heart at one point. This is the first time he got to read it to him, if Eddie is not mistaken.

Eddie quietly made his way to the bedroom and stopped to lean on the door frame, taking in the sight in front of him. Christopher was lying in bed snuggled up against Buck’s uninjured side, he was already fast asleep, but Buck kept reading quietly leaning against the headboard.

“Then I dreamed I was sleeping on billowy billows

Of soft silk and satin marshmallow-stuffed pillows.

I dreamed I was sleeping in Solla Sollew,

On the banks of the beautiful River Wah-Hoo,

Where they never have troubles. At least very few.”

Eddie was so caught up in the cute picture presented before him, that he hadn't noticed Buck’s stopped reading and turned welcoming eyes on him, “Hey Eds.” he greeted with a soft smile.

“Hey Buck.” Eddie greeted back with a smile, slowly making his way inside, gently detangling Christopher from Buck to lay him properly on the pillow, and freeing Buck to rise and stretch carefully.

The blonde nodded gratefully at his friend, with a last look down at Christopher, he smiled and left Eddie to tuck Christopher in safely and say goodnight. Eddie’s eyes followed Buck as he left the room, making sure he’s steady on his feet and also because he couldn’t really look away.

When Buck was out and on his way to the living room Eddie turned around, pressed a kiss to Christopher’s forehead, turned on the nightlight and left the room, closing the door behind him.

Eddie noted Buck’s absence in the living room and followed the sounds to the kitchen, standing at the door, he inquired “Should you be without your sling?”

"Honestly, no." Buck admitted with a sheepish smile, "But my neck is killing me and doing everything one handed is driving me crazy." He complained, handing Eddie a beer and leaned back against the counter while drinking the Gatorade he started earlier.

“At least you’re not drinking beer.” Eddie rolled his eyes. Buck scoffed “I wanted to, Christopher said no.” he smiled at Eddie’s laugh.

“Sounds about right.” Eddie nodded. “Did Carla make dinner?”

Buck shook his head, “No, she had to leave early, I told her I got this.”

“Tell me you ordered dinner.” Eddie demanded.

“There are waffles and Eggs in the microwave for you.” Was Buck’s sole reply.

“You’re supposed to be resting.” Eddie protested with an exasperated look.

“I have been resting, Edmundo!” Buck rolled his eyes, “And I’ll go back to resting now that your kid is fed, ready for his day tomorrow and has fallen asleep in his own bed for a change.” Buck retorted and was about to move past Eddie when the latter grabbed the wrist of his good arm and turned him around, bringing him flush against Eddie’s body.

Faces a hairbreadth away from each other, Buck met Eddie’s eyes with a curious look, “You gonna teach me to dance Eds?”

“I thought you already knew how to dance, Ev.” Eddie replied with a soft smirk, voice barely beyond a murmur.

“Hmm.. So wha..” Buck didn’t finish the rest of the sentence because Eddie’s lips were on his, and the finally in his head was so loud, it took him a second to sigh contentedly and kiss back.

Eddie’s hands strayed to Buck’s waist bringing him even closer as he maneuvered them carefully out of the kitchen and into the living room, stopping when the back of his knees hit the couch, his palms framing Buck’s face with one last kiss before breaking apart, chuckling at Buck’s protesting whine.

“What was that for?” Buck asked as Eddie rearranged the pillows on the couch before situating himself with his back to one side and reached to gently pull Buck down so he could lie back on Eddie’s broad chest, framed between his stretched forward legs.

Buck went pretty easily, not even questioning Eddie’s tactile display, it’s been known to happen, it just didn’t usually start with a kiss. Buck turned his head to one side looking up to meet Eddie’s eyes, Eddie’s brown eyes were soft and fond, Buck couldn’t help but smile back at him when Eddie offered him a grin.

Before Buck could open his mouth and ask again what’s going on, Eddie wrapped a long arm across Buck’s broad chest and threaded the fingers of his other hand with Buck’s, resting them on Buck’s stomach. “I’m done overlooking the pink elephant in the room.”

“Is that a veiled reference of your dislike for that shirt?” Buck quipped, squeezing Eddie’s hand reassuringly.

“That too.” Eddie played along, he really did hate that shirt, but Buck kept insisting it defined his muscles, which it did, but literally most of his size-down shirts already did that. “But also because coming home to the sight of you and Christopher every night, was pretty much wearing me down.”

Buck’s face broke into a smile that was a complicated mix of self-consciousness and contentedness, which Eddie found adorable, “So what broke you tonight?” Buck asked, bringing Eddie out of his reverie “I mean, it was a pretty standard evening in the Diaz household.” He pointed out with a teasing smile.

“You made sure Christopher fell asleep in his own bed.” Eddie said, chin resting on the top of Buck’s head gently.

“Well, It felt like some normalcy was needed.” Buck replied, his voice soft. “Both of us injured and out of commission in the short span of five months seemed to be taking a toll.”

“And the fact that you’re the one who managed to find a way to stir him back into the right direction is what broke me, I guess.” Eddie admired quietly, “That, and the cute picture you two presented when I got into the room.” He smiled, pressing a kiss to Buck’s temple who was blushing endearingly.

The moment was broken by an exhausted yawn from Buck, “Sorry, been a long day, and you’re too comfortable.” he accused jokingly.

“Bed?” Eddie suggested.

“You sure?” Buck asked, it’s not like they haven’t shared a bed before but this was semi-new territory. “I've already bonded with the couch, I’m good sleeping out here until we figure this out.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, “Bed.” he determined with a growl.

Buck chuckled amusedly as he rose carefully to his feet along with Eddie, “Caveman.” he teased.

Eddie shook his head with a laugh, “brat.” he retorted, pecking Buck’s lips before taking his hand and leading him to the master-bedroom.

***

That's it :) I hope you like it!! 💖💖

ps. That book Buck is reading to Christopher is a story my dad used to read to me and my sisters when we were youngers, we all know it by heart, to this very day. 🤗💕

#buddie prompt #buddie fic #evan buckley #eddie diaz #christoper diaz #is a national treasure #short fluff #buddie #9 1 1 on fox #buddie fandom #buddie fanfiction #buck x eddie #eddie x buck #eddie and buck #9-1-1

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aethelflaedladyofmercia · 4 years ago

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The Ritual of Propagation

Alright. This is happening.

I made a post earlier about having a fic that is both NS/FW and contains r*pe/non-con. This is it: "The Ritual of Propagation," first story in what will apparently be a series, "Aziraphale's Children."

You will probably not be surprised to learn based on those two sentences that this fic contains r*pe (physical and metaphysical/True Form), pr*gnancy (forced and consensual), references to miscarriage, and the usual range of violence, threats, emotional abuse, and absurd amounts of gaslighting heaped on our favorite angel. To balance it, LOTS of love and affection between our angel and demon at their South Downs cottage, navigating their way through past trauma.

Actual description:

When the War in Heaven took its toll, decimating the Legions of Heaven, there was only one way to rebuild their numbers: The Ritual of Propagation.

To Aziraphale, it was simply a duty, a task the Archangels asked him to perform countless times.

But, an eternity later, Crowley sees something far darker and more sinister in the angel's stories.

Can Crowley help his husband acknowledge the abuse he suffered? And can they find away through the pain and trauma to start the family they both desire?

Snippet is below the break, contains references to miscarriage and forced pr*gnancy, but cuts off before anything too dark/explicit.

All across Creation, the War raged. Wave after wave of loyal angels crushing the Rebellion, driving the Dissidents, the forces of the Wicked back to the farthest reaches of the universe where they belonged. Endless battles fought by the Legions of Heaven, weapons igniting the void with the Flames of Truth.

Perched on the edge of his bed, Aziraphale watched it all through the window. Little lights in the darkness, flitting about.

“You were lucky,” droned the fourth-class medic, inspecting his left upper wing. Aziraphale tried to smile, but kept his eyes on the distant battle. “Only lost three of them. A fall like that, it could have been much worse.”

“Yes. Very lucky.” Aziraphale didn’t feel lucky. He felt tired. The burden each wing carried weighed him down, sapped his energy in a way combat never had. Yet somehow the absence of weight on his wing was even more painful. “How are the rest?”

“No permanent damage. But it’s a good thing we found you when we did.” The medic turned to Gabriel, who waited at the far end of the drab, colorless room, arms crossed. “If his condition continues in this way, I’m afraid we’ll have to restrict his activities. Bed rest, supervised visits to the recreation hall—”

“I thought,” Gabriel said in a voice that made Aziraphale’s heart drop, “that he was already restricted.”

The medic sighed, flipping through a chart. “We’ll have to be more specific with the door guards. Apparently, he snuck out with a larger party.”

“I wasn’t sneaking. It was just one walk around the gardens. I missed the flowers.” While the other angels were occupied, Aziraphale lifted a hand to touch the bare patch of white feathers. “And a little exercise does so much good for them.” One of the small globes of golden light shifted, brushing up against his fingers, followed by a second, then a third. He quickly pulled his hand away, glancing towards Gabriel.

The Archangel watched him, eyes narrowed. “You can get exercise indoors. Just like everyone else.”

“Everyone else is allowed outside.”

“Everyone else still remembers how to walk!”

He pressed his lips together, trying not to shake. It wasn’t that he couldn’t walk. He was just—so— tired. “You know I… I never had these accidents when it was fifteen per wing. Perhaps if we… eased off…”

“It isn’t up to you,” the Archangel reminded him coldly. “Or to me, or to anyone else. If God grants you twenty-seven on a wing, that’s what She wants you to carry. This was a blessing,” his voice grew more heated with every word, “a sign of confidence in you. Do you understand how rare that is? How few angels have been singled out for anything like this honor? You have been given a Duty, a Sacred Task, and instead of accepting it like a proper angel, like the Guardian you are supposed to be, what do you do? Wander out of the facility meant to keep you safe, and then, when you’re good and lost, fall off the path and lose three at once.”

“I wasn’t lost, I just—”

“Aziraphale!” Now Gabriel was furious, violet eyes smoldering. “I have had enough of your back talk. Just—for once, shut your mouth and do as you’re told.”

Aziraphale shifted on the bed, turning back to the lights of the distant battle. A few of them flickered out.

“He does have a point,” the medic put in, tugging on Aziraphale’s lower right wing, where the largest of the globes hung. “Look at this— thirty. The largest clutch we’ve ever had. And very healthy, but at least eight are undersized.

“But some are above average, yes?”

“Mmmh.” The medic’s fingers flicked through his feathers, counting. “Six. But according to the notes, it used to be at least ten, consistently, every time. If you wish to prioritize strength over numbers—”

“We need to prioritize both,” Gabriel snapped, walking closer. “The War isn’t just going to wait for us.” He jabbed one of the largest globes roughly with his finger, and Aziraphale felt a tingle of fear race up his wing. He tried to think soothing thoughts, but he didn’t dare move. “Even undersized for him, they’re still well above average for everyone else. We’ll just have to watch him more closely.”

With one more disappointed glare, Gabriel ushered the medic towards the door, leaving Aziraphale alone. Or as close to alone as he ever got.

His fingers brushed the bare patch again, this time allowing the remaining globes to bump against his fingers. He could feel their curiosity, and their concern.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I am so… so sorry…”

Before the War, this facility had housed the Angels of Creation. The enclosed gardens still held their work, a wild array of plants and animals, a million varieties, the best of which would be sent to Earth when it was created. It had been marvelous to get away from prying eyes for just a moment, to see the rich array of colors, to hear the singing of birds in the trees.

But all at once his legs had given out—

Hearing Gabriel approach, Aziraphale dropped his hand, slowly pushing himself back into bed. But the Archangel put a hand on his shoulder.

Aziraphale stared for a moment, uncomprehending. “But… my wings are full.”

“Twenty-five per wing, minimum. If you lost three, that means this one has only twenty-four.”

That bit of arithmetic was almost too complex for Aziraphale’s addled mind. “But. The rest are already so large.” He flexed his lower right wing, looking at the ripening globes that nestled among his feathers. “And these are nearly ready. Surely we should wait—”

The hand grew painfully tight. “It isn’t. Up. To you.”

“But…”

“Do not make me say it again.”

#good omens fanfiction #good omens angst #ineffable husbands #aziraphale and crowley #emotional h/c #my wips #hurt aziraphale #mpreg cw #cw noncon #cw gaslighting #aziraphale #crowley #gabriel #gabriel is a bad angel #my writing #aziraphale's Children #bad angel

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mlmreaderfics · 4 years ago

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You Look Quite Divine Tonight (Cthulhu x Lighthouse Keeper!Male Reader)

The years have not been kind to you.

You are grizzled, old, scarred from your face to your heart, and tired. Your hair has gone white from age, along with your beard, and wrinkles break up the symmetry of your sandpaper skin. Your voice constantly aches and itches from yelling and overuse, though you appreciate the light Scottish accent you allegedly have. It makes you seem tougher than you actually are. There are callouses and blisters on your fingers, palms, feet from work. For work on the sea is anything but easy.

The sea has not been kind to you.

On occasion you find yourself with a strange, salty taste in your mouth. You used to know whether it was the ocean or your own tears. Your eyelashes freeze, yet you feel the most comfortable in the cold, or at least that’s what you’re telling yourself. You are very tired. Ever since hitting your ripe age of “too old to go to sea, but too young to retire properly” you took the toll of a lighthouse keeper. When you got here, it was supposed to be six weeks, with a young, scrappy helper that reminded you of yourself. Instead, he hung himself from the rope while he was supposed to be repainting the blistering white tower. Maybe he hated you. It wouldn’t surprise you, although it’s the first time anybody has taken their own life just to get away from you. You didn’t know him, yet you feel immense sorrow. Perhaps you were being too parental. You do tend to get attached.

The world has not been kind to you.

You never really knew your mother, she left before you were ten, and your father was colder than the ocean himself. Yes, you tend to refer to inanimate objects as “him,” but those rich men call their boats “her,” so who are they to judge? Though, perhaps it is because they see you as a predator, an animal itching to get its hands on any man it can find. But that’s not what you want. What you do want, you’re not sure, but it wouldn’t be just any man, and it wouldn’t be just for sex, throwing yourself around dark alleyways like a London whore. Though, you are just as tired as they are. It was supposed to be six weeks.

You have resided here, alone and without rescue, for a year. You think.

Thankfully, you have enough food to last you another six months. There’s been no ship to come rescue you from this rock, perhaps they no longer have a need for lighthouses. Maybe those children with their inventions figured out how to navigate the sea blindfolded, backwards, and in the dark. but they wouldn’t just leave you here, right?

You decide not to think about it. Thankfully, you have a very worthwhile distraction.

Whilst searching through the house, you notice one of the floorboards sounds off when you step on it. It takes you about five minutes to crouch down to the floor, but in the end, it’s worth it. You knock on the floor. Sounds like normal. You move your scarred fist to the left, three raps following. Also normal. Left once more.

There it is. The knock is echoed slightly, the wood hollow underneath.

It takes you ten minutes to get up off the floor, but thankfully you have a newfound adrenaline. You hobble over to the toolshed outside.

You make a point of not looking to your right, knowing you will find some of the grisly remains of your crew-mate, your excitement giving you tunnel vision to the crowbar. You rush back and bend over, your back loudly protesting as you attempt to pry back the floorboard. One push. Then two. Then three.

With a loud crack, the board splinters away, revealing a small hole with a book inside. It appears to be a journal.

————————————————————————————

Though you eat dinner that night, your health is the furthest thing on your mind as you theorize what the book could be. A book of spells? A tale as old as time itself? Maybe just pretty pictures? Whatever it is, the fact that new information is occupying your head is enough.

When you finally get a chance to sit down and begin to read, you notice an important sentence on the front page:

“This journal belongs to: Gustaf Johansen.”

Well, whoever this Gustaf character is, you are sure to be fascinated by him!

————————————————————————————

January 12, 1792.

Today marks my first day on the sea. While I do admit that I may come down with a minor sickness, I still have faith in my comrades to help me, as I shall help them.

———————————————————————————

You scan the pages, word by word. It details six months of a life at sea, similar to yours. Gustaf is (allegedly) described by his friends as “a man with strength and beauty to rival Thor himself.” Though you doubt that description, you can’t help but entertain the handsome image.

He’s holding your hand, rubbing his thumb on the back of it. Smiling, he nestles his head between your head and shoulder.

You shake your head. It’s ridiculous, no one is coming to save you.

_________________

April 20, 1792.

I have been having frequent dreams of a place I have yet never seen. I find myself under the ocean surface, far from dry land. And yet, in the murky waters, I see a glowing, beautiful city.

——————-

That night, you have the same dream.

You don’t think anything of it.

You continue to read.

_____________________

May 2, 1792.

The dream has come again, but now I hear a chorus of people. Or perhaps, not people, but simply voices. They speak in a language I do not recognize, yet still understand. They speak of the coming of a god, a Great Old One.

They call this being Cthulhu.

—————

Underneath the entry, a sentence, phrase, or paragraph in an unknown language, presumably the one from the dreams, is written. It is a terrible mess of consonants and apostrophes. Though, it is still somewhat readable. Your pronunciation is messy, but you get through it.

Mggoka'ai ya, throdog gn'th

nog, uh'eog ot shugg

Y' nogephaii

nogephaii l' ya, gn'bthnknyth

nogephaii l' ya, orr'e

nogephaii l' ya, cthulhu

You finish the final syllable. Nothing happens.

In a burst of anger, you grab a flare from the supplies closet and walk out into the night.

Standing on the beach, you light the flare, waving it around. The sky is black, not a star in sight. “Please, help me!” you cry. “Please, anybody! I’m right here!” Tears burn your eyes and run down your cheeks. You muster all the strength in your lungs.

“I’M RIGHT HEREEE!!!”

With the final syllable, the ground shakes. Did somebody finally hear you? Are they coming to help you, after a lifetime of isolation?

It shakes again, your take a few steps to regain you balance.

Again. Your knees wobble.

Again. You fall, and a great deal of pain does not fill your body. In fact, you feel a great sense of rejuvenation in your bones.

Again. You manage to get up, seeing bubbles on the ocean surface.

Slowly, a mixture of flesh and scales emerges from the sea. Two sets of burning red eyes lie below. A strange beard of tentacles. A hugely muscled body with miles-wide wings. And when he speaks, you feel it in your chest.

“I do not recognize you, my beloved.”

You stare in fear, the flare still belching smoke.

“Lovely mortal, fear not. My beloved, Gustaf, had the most beautiful soul.”

The tentacles on his face gently wrap around you and lift you up. You find yourself between his eyes.

“You have that same soul deep within you.”

You begin to cry once more. The tentacles are surprisingly not as freezing as you thought they would. Instead, they fill your body with loving warmth.

“I-I apologize.” You say. “I have not been held like this since…”

You look back on your life, quickly.

“No one has ever held me like this,” you admit. Your voice is small, lost, broken.

“Then I am honored to be the first.”

His centuries-deep voice is filled with love. He speaks your name softly.

“Wouldst thou like to experience the pleasure of a god?”

“Yes,” you whisper desperately. You quickly unbutton your shirt, but the tentacles take care of your clothes for you. He laughs like rolling thunder.

He devours you, body and soul.

#male character x male reader #male reader #cthulhu #eldritch #lovecraft #lovecraftian #cthulhu x reader #lighthousecore #sailorcore #lighthouse #mlm

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morganaspendragonss · 4 years ago

Text

together we sang (i’m ready now)

five times tk and carlos learned how to be around each other, and one time they already knew.

ao3

It’s not an easy start for them.

They had the initial road bumps, of course, but after that… After that, it takes a while to figure out how to fit themselves together, sharp edges and all. It isn’t as golden and perfect as they want it to be, but by the end of it, well - it’s them. TK and Carlos.

(and here’s the secret: neither of them would want it any other way)

TK barely sleeps the first night he stays over at Carlos’s. It’s not so much the unfamiliarity (though that doesn’t exactly help) but it’s just… Being here, in Carlos’s bed, having spent the entire night. He doesn’t know how he’s supposed to act.

And it’s ridiculous; TK knows this. Carlos is...well, they haven’t labelled it yet, but they’re in this now. Together. It makes sense that he’d stay over, and Carlos had asked him, for god’s sake. Still. When he wakes up after a brief, fitful rest, finding Carlos’s arm slung over his chest and his own head turned towards Carlos, TK’s entire body tenses, suddenly, minutely aware of his situation.

He breathes slowly as dawn starts to creep through the curtains, watching Carlos’s face for any sign of waking. He doesn’t dare move, for fear of disturbing him.

Eventually, after what feels like an eternity, Carlos stirs, his eyes blinking lazily open. “Hey,” he rasps, the sound of his deep, sleep-heavy voice bringing a smile to TK’s face despite his anxieties.

“Hey yourself,” he returns. He bites his lip, gaze darting away. “Is this… Is this okay?”

Carlos frowns. “Is what okay?”

“This. Me. Being here.”

Carlos actually laughs, tightening his hold around TK and pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Of course it is. I don’t let just anyone sleep in my bed, you know.”

TK looks up at him and sees the sincerity in Carlos’s eyes, that he really means it. That this is okay - or it’s going to be.

And TK begins to let go.

ii.

It’s been six months since Alex, give or take. TK should have been happy when he realised he could no longer number the days since that night, but he’s just scared.

He’s fucking terrified, and he’s got no idea why.

He and Carlos have been doing this - properly, that is - for just over a month (and those days TK can number - 42 and counting) but they still haven’t named it. Not in so many words, anyway. Not in that one word.

It’s not a choice. TK wants, more than anything, to be able to call Carlos his boyfriend, and to have Carlos call him his boyfriend back. He just… He can’t force the word past his lips.

It’s been six months since Alex, give or take, and TK is terrified of the idea of having something concrete, only for it to dissolve in his hands. Not just that, though. He can’t be the one to say it first, because he’s not sure if he could stand it if Carlos isn’t ready for it either.

Arms slip around TK’s waist, lips pressing against his neck. He smiles and turns, pulling Carlos into a full hug.

“What’s this in aid of?” Carlos asks, surprised, though he returns the hug just as tightly.

“Nothing,” TK mumbles.

Carlos hums. “Well, much as I’m enjoying this, I do need to do stuff now.”

He begins to pull away and TK whines, mourning the loss of contact. Carlos laughs, keeping one arm wrapped around TK’s waist.

“Complain all you want, but, you see, my boyfriend is a pretty terrible cook and we do need to eat at some point.”

TK freezes. “You…” He swallows roughly and shakes his head, trying to clear the sudden static in his brain. “Boyfriend?”

Carlos’s smile falters. “Yeah… Is that not okay? If you’re not ready, I completely understand -”

TK cuts him off with a kiss. “It’s more than okay.”

iii.

“You know you don’t have to knock,” Carlos says, grinning at TK standing sheepishly on the front step.

“I didn’t want to be rude,” TK protests, kissing Carlos as he walks in. “What if you had company?”

“I gave you a key for a reason, TK. The reason being for you to actually, you know, use it.”

“Oh, I thought it was just for decoration.”

Carlos rolls his eyes affectionately. “Idiota.”

TK grins. “You know it.”

He flops down on Carlos’s couch and drapes an arm across the back, quirking an eyebrow. Carlos huffs an exasperated laugh but heads over, settling comfortably into TK’s embrace. It’s nice, just existing together like this. Easier, too, TK’s finding. Apparently not easy enough for him to feel totally comfortable using the key just yet, but easier.

And that means a lot.

iv.

Dating another first responder is great in many ways. Carlos gets the toll the job takes on him, both in body and mind, and they have a kind of understanding TK’s never had in any other relationship. There’s also the fact that Carlos is the best thing that’s ever happened to him, but that’s more because he’s, well, Carlos.

Unfortunately, dating another first responder also means that they understand each other’s jobs a little too well, sometimes. It’s bad when they’re at the same scenes, one of them having to watch the other run into danger without knowing what’s going to happen; it’s worse when they have to just sit at home and wait, not even able to be there.

They deal with it, mostly.

“Are you insane?” Carlos yells the second the door slams shut behind them.

TK scowls, the arm not in a sling crossed defensively over his chest. “What the hell was I supposed to do? Leave her to die?”

“TK, the building was coming down! It is not your job to save everyone -”

“That is exactly what my job is!”

“- and you can’t save anyone if you’re dead!”

TK scoffs. “I knew what I was doing.”

“No, you didn’t,” Carlos insists, a finger stabbing forward. “You were just trying to play the hero, but you don’t seem to realise that your actions have real consequences, TK.”

“Of course I do!”

“Do you? You could have died today, did you think about that?”

“I was thinking about that woman who, I might add, is alive right now because of what I did. Anyway, you’re one to talk; what about that shoot-out downtown the other week?”

“I was doing my job.”

“So was I!” TK breathes through his nose, setting his jaw and looking away. “I’m going out.”

“Fine.”

“Don’t wait up.”

(the anger drains away within ten minutes of leaving Carlos’s house; it’s funny like that. pride stops him from going back that night, but when morning comes he’ll find himself there once more)

(they don’t fix things immediately. but they talk, and they learn, and they heal. and, slowly, together, they make themselves stronger)

“I love you.”

The admission comes quietly, surprising both of them. TK hadn’t exactly meant to say it; the words had just slipped past his lips without a thought. He means them, feels the truth of them deep in his bones, but he’s not sure if he’d been prepared to face up to them so soon.

See, he hasn’t said them since the night Alex left him - not in that way, anyway. He’s just not sure if he’s judged this right.

TK doesn’t think all of this with Carlos could disappear, not anymore. He knows Carlos better than that, and he knows their relationship better than that. They’re good, and happy, and in this for the long haul.

None of that stops the fear.

“Hey,” Carlos says, voice soft. TK looks at him, heart swelling as he sees his own love reflected right back at him.

“I love you, too.”

TK can’t say when he knew that, oh, this is my person. The romantic in him wants to say the very first day they met, but that’s a lie. It happened sometime in the middle, when they were learning what it means to be them.

But it’s moments like this that solidify the feeling; moments like this that really matter.

He comes home after a long shift, moving through the house on silent feet so as not to wake Carlos, who he knows will already be dead to the world. He smiles when he walks into their bedroom, brushing a stray curl from Carlos’s forehead before climbing in beside him. Carlos stirs at the movement, but TK doesn’t feel guilty for it, not anymore.

He doesn’t sleep so well without Carlos, either.

Carlos’s arms come around him and TK nestles into the embrace, his entire body relaxing as sleep calls to him. He drifts off soon after, comforted by the fit of their bodies together.

And TK is home, in every sense of the word.

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #tarlos #tarlos fic #tk strand #carlos reyes #tk x carlos #911ls #lone star #fanfiction #my fanfiction #writing #my writing #guys i'm actually so proud of this one what the hell #userjillian #tuserjamie #userkimmy

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dreamychick · 4 years ago

Text

HeadCanon the boys and MC crying over period cramps

Lucifer

Is....not great around crying. He doesn't really know what to do with that emotion. He tells MC that it's going to be okay, and it'll pass soon. He tries to be sympathetic but it's not easy, it comes off as condescending and gets him thrown out of the room. He comes back with some pain killers and water and offers to hold their hand until it passes. MC is glad for the company. Glad for the contact, and also glad Lucifers cares enough to try. They fall asleep to Lucifer telling them about them about the next project Lord Diavolo will have them do, and when they wake up, they find a tray of their favorite chocolates and a sports drink are on their bedside table, but Lucifer is still holding their hand.

Mammon

Freaks out of course. MC is crying? No no, he can't have that. He acts tough, like Don't cry, human the great Mammon will make this all ok for you. But then he leaves and panics. He doesn't know what to get to help. He's never had a period before and doesn't know what MC needs. But then he remembers Lilith and what she wanted most when she was in pain. So Mammon goes back into the room and before MC can say anything, crawls into bed and holds them tight. He mumbles unintelligible nothings at first because he's embarrassed but the longer they lay together, the more he's able to pull his face out of MCs shoulder and just talk until the smooth constant sound of his voice helps MC fall asleep.

Levi

Also can't handle MC crying. He's very akward. But he doesn't want them to stay in pain more then necessary, so he grabs his collection of TSL and brings them into MCs room and puts its on. Distraction from the pain is sure to be good, plus you can't cry when your favorite show is on right? Unless it's crying from Joy. So he will sit on the bottom of the bed and watch with them, keeping MC focused on the show. And not on the cramps. He brings a few snacks and uses them a constant excuse to keep looking over to make sure they don't start crying again. The constant worry on Levis face, makes MC grab his hand, and they fall asleep fingers locked just like that, with levi's face blushing red.

Satan

The second he sees MC cry he's had enough. He saves the place in his book and he leaves. He leaves the room. And the house. But it' not that long until he comes back to MC's room. But hes not alone. No, he's brought a Friend. One of the cats from the garden. He let's the cat down on MC's bed and explains that the only thing better then a cat, is a cat who will curl up on your tummy and purr. A build in vibrating heating pad right? That has to be so nice for the cramps and the pain right? So now Satan and the cat curl up around MC and lend their body heat for a nice midday nap. When MC wakes up it's not the cat who is on her tummy sound asleep, it's Satan, who's head was nestled on their belly and his arms wrapped around them in sleep.

Asmo

Knows just what MC needs. Lots of hugs and kisses. Asmo will kiss all the pain away. Just tell him where it hurts. And even if he gets a slap for that dirty joke, it's worth it to see MC smile. He runs his finger gently through MCs hair, petting their head just reminding them that hes still there. He will stay the whole time and talk about getting a couples massage, and going shopping together once they feel better and how he wants to draw them a nice hot relaxing bubble bath later when they feel up to it, and maybe even join in. Just to wash MCs back of course. Mc falls asleep with Asmo still petting their head gently.

Beel

Sees MC crying and would rip out his own heart to make it stop. He hates seeing the people he loves upset. And will do anything he can think go to make it stop. So for him that means food. So he goes into the kitchen and gets as many snacks as he can physically carry, most of them chocolate and salt based and brings them back to MC's room. He drops them all down next to the bed and then has MC sit up so he can slide in behind them. Then he massages every muscle he can reach. Beel works out enough to know the toll a sore body has. So if he can make MC comfortable and ease their pain he will. MC falls asleep with their back against Beels chest and beels arms around their stomach. Him holding them tight, feeling cherished, protected and loved.

Belphie

MC is crying and...yea he doesn't like that. He almost demons out until he finds out there is no monster to slay. Theyre in pain. He starts to feel a little useless, what can he do for them? He seems MC curled up and clutching their stomach tightly. So he has an idea, he crawls on the bed and pushes their hand out of the way and lays his body ontop of MCs stomach. Instead of pressing so hard against your stomach and curling inward and hurting your back too. Now MC can lay out, and Belphie will use his body weight and heat to ease the cramps. Plus now you can take a nap together. MC thinks they won't be able to breathe but Belphie doesnt lay on their chest, just their belly and legs. And it's actually comfortable. So with his weight, and heat, they do fall asleep together just like that.

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mnthpprt · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 45: Skeletons In The Garden

It has been almost a week since I decided to give William a chance. More than that, I decided to earn his trust, no matter what it took. I think I am succeeding so far, but there is a price I have to pay. With every day we spend together in town, with every night we join our bodies into one, we become closer. Just as I have gained his trust, he is beginning to gain mine. I have to constantly remind myself why I came here, but then he looks at me with that smile, that light in his eyes... It takes all my effort not forget the reason I agreed to be with him in the first place.

I sleepily stumble around the kitchen in search of the jar of ground coffee, wearing nothing but William’s dressing gown. I borrowed it again last night to head back to my bedroom and fell asleep in it. Though the sleeves are way too long for me, the fabric is luxurious and soft, and I have taken up the habit of stealing it after our nightly activities.

A few minutes ago, William woke me up without bothering to knock on my door. He said we were going somewhere, but did not explain any further. I was too tired to ask. Though it is not that early, I have been having more trouble sleeping than usual, and I have the feeling it has nothing to do with my new vampiric condition. Fuck, this man drives me insane in every way possible: I either want to kiss him, break his nose, or both. That last one gets very confusing, and usually ends up involving lots of bites from me, out of anger, and from him, in retaliation.

I pour a cup for him before taking my coffee up to my bedroom. I stare at my clothes, which are laid out on the bed, as I drink it. I have been putting off returning to the mansion for my stuff, but I do need more dresses. I would also like to resume my research, so I’ll have to borrow some books for that.

When I return downstairs, empty cup in hand and hair loosely braided, William is waiting for me on the sofa. He offers me a bottle of rouge, and I pet Puck as I take it.

“Today is the troupe’s day off,” I observe.

“I know,” he simply replies. Where is he taking me? As if he could read my mind, he smiles and sips his rouge before explaining. “Dost thou remember how I wanted thee to meet someone?”

I nod, but narrow my eyes as the implication sinks in. Either he really trusts me enough to introduce me to his deranged accomplice, or this is his way to get rid of me once and for all. Sure, he has been nothing but charming and sweet since I moved into his house, but this is William. If there is a God, even He doesn’t know what he’s plotting.

An hour later, our carriage pulls up next to an old church. From the outside, I see no signs of it being used. It looks rather abandoned. However, as we approach the entrance, I catch the scent of burning candles, meaning there must be people inside. What is this place?

The wooden door creaks loudly when William pushes it open, just enough for us to pass through. Once inside, he closes it behind us.

“Please lock that, will you?” a man’s voice chimes from the altar. I cannot see him, but I hear glass tinkering behind the decorative screen in the back.

“Do not worry, we shall be quick,” William says, but obliges anyway. Great, now I am trapped here with a stranger who might have killed me.

He takes my hand and guides me down the nave. Our steps echo ominously under the high stone arches, and I have to take a deep breath to relax. Do not show them you are nervous, Anaïs, for they might take it the wrong way. For God’s sake, act normal.

We walk past the altar and into the ambulatory, where the stranger in question seems to have set up a lab of sorts, packed with all kinds of flasks, beakers, and, uh... medical equipment. Creepy. He is slightly taller than William, slender and dressed in clothing as black as his hair, and wears glasses with a chain around his neck.

“What do we have here?” he asks with a malicious grin that gives me shivers. He has a mild German accent. “Is this the neophyte you mentioned? She would make a fine guinea pig...”

“No, thank you.” He raises an eyebrow at my quick reply, while William chuckles and wraps his arm around my waist.

“My nightshade, this is Johann Georg Faust. Johann, meet Anaïs.”

“Faust like the legend?”

“The very same,” William smiles.

“Oh. Nice to meet you, I guess. So, um... What are you doing there?” I ask, pointing at the collection of scribbled on papers and lab equipment.

“Nothing you need to concern yourself with, fräulein Anaïs. I am sure you would find my experiments rather tedious...”

I ignore the condescending tone of his answer. A sculpture behind him has caught my eye. Faust interrupts his deceivingly polite excuse when I march past him to approach it.

“Oh, hell no,” I mumble. “María, cariño, ¿qué te han hecho? (Mary, honey, what have they done to you?)”

I reach up to touch the Virgin’s gilded coat and, sure enough, the gold leaf crumbles in my fingers, leaving behind a glittery mess. I turn to the bespectacled man, only for my look of indignation to be met with his, equal parts intrigued and offended.

“She’s falling apart! See?” I show the golden dust on my palm to the two men. “I need to fix this before it gets-” Oh no he didn’t. Right beside Faust, on his work table, I see a clean rag neatly folded beside a bottle of clear liquid. ‘Carbolic acid’, the label reads. I bring the cloth to my nose and immediately put two and two together. “You wiped it with phenol?!” I exclaim, incredulous, as I furiously wave the rag around. “I don’t know why you needed to disinfect poor Mary over here in the first place, but for fuck’s sake, don’t do it again. God, no wonder everyone hates this stupid century, y’all discover something and decide to use it for everything without ever thinking about what it might do.”

“Everyone?” William asks, confused.

“This century?” Faust says almost at the same time.

“In my line of work, I mean,” I explain, completely ignoring the second question. I am not sure how safe it would be for me to mention that I come from the future. “Seriously, the amount of damage I’ve had to undo is insane. Why you people use so many questionable compounds is beyond me. Can I borrow a scalpel?”

“You came through the door,” Faust states. Shit, I guess he knows about it.

“Yes, I’m from the future,” I sigh, before grabbing a scalpel myself, not bothering to wait for permission.

I return my focus to the sculpture and carefully examine it. The state it is in is poorer than I had previously noticed. Judging by the proportions, it looks gothic. That makes it around 300 years old at least. Though the passage of time has obviously taken its toll, I have no doubt that its degradation has been made worse by well-meaning yet ignorant attempts at preserving it. Or, in Faust’s case, by his attempt to prep the area for whatever freaky surgical shit he has going on here. I must admit, the fact that he allegedly sold his soul to the devil for knowledge does not exactly reassure me about his intentions.

“The year 2020, to be exact,” I continue as I awkwardly manoeuvre around the sculpture to scrape some paint and gesso off the back in order to check the state of the wood underneath. “I’m guessing you’re not a pureblood... Do you know how to use a shotgun, by any chance?” I ask casually without looking up from my delicate task.

“Is this about Salieri?” Judging by Faust’s tone, I can tell he is rolling his eyes. “That would be Charles,” he sighs. Whoever this Charles is, Faust sounds like a bored babysitter. He has no interest in the conversation whatsoever. “May I have my scalpel back? You’re going to blunt it.”

“I’m almost done.” I manage to cut a cross section just in time to see him approach and forcibly take the sharp object from my hand. I then make my way back to the work table and search for what I need, carefully holding the thin slice of wood and gesso between my fingers. “Do you have a... What are they called, those round looky things with the handle?”

“Magnifying glass,” William aids.

“Yeah, that. Actually,” I change my mind when I see a pile of neatly stacked glass slides, “I’m gonna take one of these. I forgot that microscopes already exist. Where is yours, anyway?”

“Safely locked away,” the alchemist deadpans. Oh well, it looks like I’ll have to save my sample for later, then.

William takes my hand and gently ushers me away from the improvised lab, I assume to stop me from annoying its owner any further. Though he acts polite, I can tell it is nothing more than a weak façade that could drop any second.

“My dearest,” he says, “we should move on to the reason of our visit?”

“Vlad, was it?” I nod. He merely mentioned the name in passing days ago, but I have hung onto that minuscule snippet of information like my life depends on it. It might.

He leads me to a discrete door nestled in the corner of the transept to our left. Before we can reach it, however, Faust calls out from behind the altar.

“I look forward to studying you, fräulein.”

“Well, I do not!” I sing in response. He lets out an unnerving chuckle that I decide to ignore.

I follow William through the door and up a dark staircase. As we walk along the hallway, I get the feeling that he does not know exactly where he is leading me, either. Still, he finds the person he was looking for inside a small room. It looks like it had been used for storage in the past, but now is completely empty save for a desk and a few chairs. The white haired man sitting on one of them looks up when we enter through the already open door. This must be him. The pureblood that is going after the residents.

He is strikingly beautiful, despite the unnervingly red shade of his eyes. Dressed in expensive clothes, he moves elegantly to greet me. I instinctively do the polite thing and offer my hand for him to hold.

“Anaïs Bertran, I presume?” His voice is slightly breathy, and as delicately controlled as his poise. “You are as beautiful as a rose.”

I do not dare to complain out loud, but I give William an exasperated look, causing him to laugh. I smack his arm.

“Stop being a dickhead,” I scold him, even though I have to hold back a smile.

“Ah, I see you have thorns as well,” the other man chuckles. “It is rare for such a pretty flower to be so foul mouthed. I must confess I appreciate it, it adds character. Was that some kind of joke between you two?”

“I guess you could call it that,” I sigh. “I just think there are more interesting flowers to be compared to.”

“Such as?” he prompts.

“I don’t know, lisianthus, dahlias... Sunflowers are pretty nifty, and I’ve always liked orchids. People tend to think they’re really hard to grow, for some reason, but they just need a bit of attention and the right amount of light. Chrysanthemums are also really cool...” I ramble.

“Those are an old favorite of mine, but not as much as roses, I’m afraid. Do you enjoy gardening?”

“Is it that obvious?” I chuckle, embarrassed. “But yeah, I worked as a florist for a few years.”

“Oh?” he smiles. “I own a flower shop in town. I sense we are going to get along well, Anaïs. Oh my, how rude of me! I forgot to introduce myself. You may call me Vlad.”

“Well, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” I politely say before tilting my head. “I have to say, I find it a bit strange to be here, speaking to you. I mean, you sent a sniper after Salieri to stop him from revealing your identity, yet here we are, being formally introduced,” I remark.

“Yes, I am well aware of the incident that took place. Quite a fortunate outcome you got, don’t you think?”

“If by fortunate you mean bleeding out in a sewer, then sure, but I beg to differ.” A cold smile accompanies my response. Not only did dying obliterate any semblance of a schedule I had, it also caused me to be turned into... this. I have nothing against vampires, but I’d rather not go through the pain of being a neophyte, or whatever these people call it.

“Pardon my crudeness, but isn’t that what happens when you jump in front of a bullet that is not meant for you?” Vlad quips.

“Yeah... That is the stupidest thing I have ever done, can’t argue with that logic,” I mutter, resigned. “By the way, if you’re gonna play with gunpowder inside a tunnel, I’d recommend finding another one that isn’t full of highly flammable methane gas. Just a tip,” I wink.

Our tense exchange is interrupted by a knock on the door frame. Under it stands another man with a boyish smile and shaggy hair.

“I bought those strawberries you- Oh.” He pauses when he sees me, his eyes growing wide in recognition. “Hello there.”

“Are you Charles?” I innocently ask, approaching him. When he nods, I smirk.

There is no warning when I grab his jacket and shoot my knee into his groin at full force. I hear William’s incredulous snort behind me, along with a muffled chuckle belonging to Vlad.

“Argh, putain!” Charles groans, folding over in pain. I observe him as I wait for him to recover. “Why?” he cries from the floor. I simply pull my dress down to reveal the scar on my cleavage. His mouth opens and closes quickly, not knowing what to say.

“Sorry, just had to get that out of my system,” I explain with no trace in my voice of the violence I just displayed. “I’m Anaïs,” I smile, offering my hand. He takes it, and I pull him to his feet. The boyish grin returns to his face as he awkwardly scratches the back of his neck.

“I am so sorry about shooting you, it was an accident. You jumped out of nowhere! I didn’t even want to in the first place, but- Ehem, sorry.”

I follow his gaze when he suddenly interrupts himself with a fake cough. Vlad’s eyes are slightly narrowed in what I can only assume is a look of warning. Okay, something’s going on. Well, yet another thing, on top of the long list of unexplained actions from this strange group of people.

“Don’t worry about it,” I say before the silence becomes awkward, “we’re even now.” I turn to the pureblood and look at him inquisitively. “Anyway, I have a lot of questions. I don’t want to judge until I know exactly what your intentions are for doing whatever it is you’re doing. I have to admit I am finding it hard to keep my emotions under control, so we better get on with it, yeah?”

I do not need to justify my volatile state. Vlad knows perfectly well that he was the one to cause it.

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikevam #ikemen #ikemen fanfiction #ikemen vampire fanfiction #ikevam fanfic #ikevamp fanfiction #ikemen vampire shakespeare #ikevamp shakespeare #ikemen vampire vlad #ikevamp vlad #ikemen vampire charles #ikevamp charles #ikemen vampire faust #ikevamp faust

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holyyrose · 5 years ago

Text

And They Were Roommates - H.H

A/N: This has been in my drafts for a long time and I’ve been in love with this concept for a while, but apparently I struggle to string a simple sentence together lately lmao.

Hyunjin x Fem!Reader

Summary: Roommate AU/Collage AU - The Reader is strapped for cash and much to their dismay Hyunjin seems to be the only one who can help.

Part One / ?

Word Count: 1809

______

“What do you mean you can’t pay the rent, I thought Minho was paying half? He is your roommate after all.” Seungmin questioned, as Y/N, Seungmin long term best friend followed him into a café, thankful that this place had warmth, which contrasted significantly to the weather outside that had nipped at her skin, making her deeply regretful for leaving her apartment this morning without a coat.

After a long day of work, Seungmin became fed up with disorderly customers that came with working in retail and was in desperate need for a break. Therefore, as Y/N’s self-proclaimed best friend, he took it upon himself to interrupt her studies and insist that she meet him at a café in the centre of town. Much to her dismay, he insisted she come instantly, meaning the work she had left far too late to start, would be put off once again, probably not to be completed until late night with yet another caffeinated drink buzzing through her system, but being equally exhausted and frustrated, she agreed, hurrying out of her small apartment to meet Seungmin.

“He was.” She has exasperated, moving along the queue alongside Seungmin, pulling out her purse so she could pay for her order, however, Seungmin had waved her off, insisting he’d pay. “So, he just stopped giving you his rent money without any warning?” His face scrunched up with distort, confused by what it seemed she was insinuating.

“What? No. Minho would never. His mother had knee surgery a few weeks ago and she’s been struggling with the recovery. Minho thought it would be best if he moved back in with her for a few months, considering his father works away a lot. I couldn’t tell him that without him living with me, I wouldn’t be able to afford this apartment.” Seungmin sighed at her remark. Grabbing their drinks from the barista, he made his way over to the sofa that was nestled in the corner of the cafe, with fairy lights strung between bookshelves, creating a welcoming and content environment.

“Things haven’t been too great for him. He lost his job at the music store because they went bankrupt then his mum needed surgery. I couldn’t do it to him.” She continued, letting out a low sigh before slumping back into the sofa, letting the plush pillows welcome her. A part of her feeling idiotic for not telling Minho, even more foolish when the words were coming out of her mouth, but it didn’t feel right. She couldn’t burden Minho even more. However, it was evident how strapped for cash she was therefore, she was relieved when Seungmin had decided to pay for her drink.

“You’re too nice y/n/n,” Seungmin laughed, sliding her coffee across the table. “You need to be more direct.”

“This isn’t funny, ok. I need your help, not your laughter.”

“What you need is to find a temporary roommate, someone who can afford to pick up the rent when you’re short.” He continued, rolling his eyes.

“You know,” He paused, drawing out his words. “I happen to know that Hyunjin is looking for an apartment, he has the cash, quite a lot if I do say so myself and-”

“No, no!” She had exclaimed, cutting him off completely. “Anybody but Hyunjin. You know I can’t stand him.” She exasperated, looking at Seungmin pointedly.

“His house got infested by rats. He needs a place to stay. He’s currently crashing Chan’s sofa because he doesn’t have a spare room, but I’m sure he’d appreciate sleeping on an actual bed.”

“Absolutely not!” She contested, as she took a sip of her drink.

“I’ve overheard him telling Chan and Jisung about those dumb parties he throws, and I can’t afford to lose my deposit on this place.”

“You know what, I take it back. You’re awful y/n/n,” He laughed, shaking his head. “You barely know the guy, I’m sure he’ll respect your decision to be boring.” Seungmin smirked, knowing how easy it was to annoy her. He rummaged through his bag, pulling out his phone before typing away. Her phone lit up, alerting her of a text.

“Here is his number. I know you’re too stubborn to admit it, but you’re desperate and Hyunjin can help you.”

She tried to ignore Seungmin’s stare by looking down at her coffee and fiddling with the lid.

“I don’t hate him.” She had murmured. “Try despise.”

“Y/n/n!” Seungmin exclaimed, furrowing his brows. “You can be so difficult sometimes.”

“Ok, I’m sorry.” She sighed, holding her hands up in defence. “He’s just so arrogant ok.”

“He’s one of my best friends, Y/n/n, please consider it. I know you find him infuriating. I do sometimes, but he has the cash and he’s currently sleeping on Chan’s couch, at least feel some sympathy for him.”

“Sorry for Chan.” A few moments had past and Seungmin had yet to speak. The silence was deafening, and he knew that.

“Ok!” Sitting up straight, Y/N hoped to cut the tension. “Give me a few days and I’ll think about it.”

“Good.” Seungmin smiled, changing his demeanour instantly. “Now let me tell you about what a shitty day I’ve had.”

Day’s seemed to have passed like lightning, Y/N easily becoming consumed by work. It seemed finding another source of income had gone to the back of Y/N’s mind. Instead, deadlines and reading had become the forefront of worry. Although her rent was due in a matter of days, she had pushed to the back of her mind hoping that if she ignored it long enough it would just go away. It seemed that balancing getting a degree and a part-time job as a hotel receptionist was becoming increasingly harder, especially when she had to pick up twice as many shifts as possible to ensure she had enough money to live. Luckily her boss allowed her to do some work during the graveyard shifts as it seemed not many people need to check-in at 2 in the morning, however, maintaining these shifts did mean an unhealthy sleeping pattern which took an overall negative impact on her day to day life. Perhaps ignoring her problems wasn’t the answer.

The day had been long, a 7-hour shift on her day off from University was usually fine, but with the little amount of sleep she had consumed over the past few weeks had started to take a toll on her well-being. Therefore, when she entered her apartment to find heaps of boxes scattered everywhere and 3 boys lounging on her sofa, she deemed it to be a hallucination.

“Ahh, there she is! Y/n/n! How are you?” The voice of her self-proclaimed best his friend, Seungmin, had snapped her out of her thoughts, making her realise this was not, in fact, a hallucination, but real life.

“What are you guys doing here?” She questioned, stunned by the unexpected appearance of Seungmin, Jisung and Chan.

“Erm.” Chan had started, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, almost as if he found himself caught red-handed.

“And what are these boxes doing here?” Stepping closer, she kicked the side of a box, regretting it instantly, as her foot collided with the hard surface, causing her to let out a string of profanities.

“Oh, I wouldn’t do that sweetheart.”

This particular voice had caught her attention, causing her to freeze and the hairs on the back of her neck to stand. Meeting the gaze of this unknown voice, she felt dread coarse through your veins.

Hyunjin.

“I’m moving in, what do you think it looks like?” Moving further into the room. Hyunjin appeared in full glory, a smirked staining his lips. He brushed past her, nonchalantly, picking up the box she had just kicked and turning to walk towards Minho’s old room.

“I never officially said you could move in.” She yelled, exasperated by his presence, hurrying past the three lounging boys on the sofa who appeared amused by this interaction, groaning as she pushed past their dangling legs to follow Hyunjin into Minho’s room, who had already unpacked most of his belongings.

“Well I was getting a little impatient waiting for you to make up your mind and Seungmin here said it would be no problem.”

“Excuse me?” Spinning on her heel, she looked directly at Seungmin who, alongside Jisung and Chan had followed you into Minho’s room. If looks could kill, everyone in the room would be 6 feet under. Looking around, Minho’s room was looking extremely different than the last time she had stepped foot in here. If she was to admit, she hadn’t actually been into Minho’s room for a long time, however, she vaguely remembered photos of his cats which stood proudly on his shelf and memorabilia from concerts they had attended together streamed across his dresser had been replaced with a large bottle of vodka and small trinkets. Most of the stuff she didn’t recognise, but the posters that littered the wall caught her attention. They were almost like Minho’s, but Hyunjin’s taste seemed to vary. His taste seemed to be a little darker. Seungmin froze at Y/N’s exclamation, stunned by her outburst.

“You heard me, sweetheart.” Hyunjin pressed, smirking slightly, almost as if he was thriving off her irritation.

Her face heated at his remark.

“I can’t believe you three are letting him do this.”

“You need the money,” Jisung started, slowly moving from behind Chan, raising his hands in surrender. “And you can’t keep this up.”

She shrugged him off and crossed her arms. “I don’t need you to tell me what to do.”

“It isn’t healthy,” Chan interjected. “And Hyunjin here has money.”

“I don’t care if he has money, I don’t want him living here.”

“You look a mess.”

“Excuse me!” She gasped, turning to face Seungmin, who had appeared next to her. He let out a small cough before continuing.

“What I mean is, you’re exhausted, and you can’t keep pulling extra shifts just to get enough cash. You’re a student and have a lot of responsibilities, so I think it’s only right for us as your friends.” Seungmin spoke, gesturing to surrounding group.

“Hyunjin isn’t my friend.”

“That’s a little harsh don’t you think?” Hyunjin laughed, as he flattened one of the boxes that had previously held his belongings.

“As your friends,” Seungmin continued, becoming irritated by her stubbornness. “We think it’s only right for us to intervene when we think necessary.” Scoffing, she turned to leave the room, refusing to hear the reality of the situation.

“I’ve already paid 3 months of rent in advance, including your half, so it looks like you’re stuck with me sweetheart.”

She stepped forward, yanking the piece of card out of Hyunjin’s hands, huffing as she did so, but not before saying, “3 months. That’s it. But one slip up, and you’re gone.”

#hwang hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin imagine #stray kids imagine #stray kids fanfic #stray kids x reader #jyp

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