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whatkeepsmeafloat · 2 years ago

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All right, now that all the promotional material is out there (as far as we know), here are my season 2 timeline predictions/expectations. Putting it behind a cut because this is a long one - I just need to get my thoughts out.

Before we jump into my proposed timeline, a note on the character arcs: Stede is free of his past, but now has to wrestle with the present and his romantic expectations vs. the reality of the situation. I think he enters the season full of hope that the worst is behind him and now he’s going to reunite with his love and his crew and they’ll all sail off into the sunset together. Not so much. He is going to have to put in the work - a lot of it. As for Ed, he will go through a ton of emotional turmoil this season around the theme of acceptance and self-actualisation. I think he initially blames everything on Stede, but has some realisations of his own and finds a way to let go of Blackbeard and his own troubled past at last. This is necessary for him to arrive at any kind of forgiveness when it comes to Stede.

It’s only after Ed lets go of some of his baggage and Stede has proven himself that they truly reunite - on equal footing. They may meet up again early on, but no smooches until after some serious character development.

So what do I think the order of events is going to be?

Bearded Stede running down the beach in leather trousers at sunset is absolutely a dream sequence, and my money is on Stede. He's going to have this fantasy about being a dashing rogue swashbuckling his way back into Ed's heart - maybe in slow-motion set to a great song - only for it to cut to him and his crew sleeping on a floor somewhere like a group of miserable wet dogs. Classic gag - it’ll be great. If Blackbeard interrupting the wedding isn't the opening scene, it'll still be in the first episode of the season. Izzy hates how it's all going and tries to talk to Ed about it, but Ed throws a knife at his head and locks himself into the auxiliary closet with the cake figurines. The crew eats the wedding cake and talks about how things are Not Going Well. Stede stares at the wanted poster, Ed stares at the figurine (music plays, of course). Ed has given up - Stede has only become more determined. Somewhere around here is when Stede meets the Prince Ricky character. More on him later. Also, and I’m not sure if this will happen this early on, but after almost getting eaten by Buttons and Roach, the Swede leaves the crew and joins Spanish Jackie’s harem of husbands. She finds herself drawn to his awkward vibe and he likes getting bossed around by a strong woman - we already know that Jackie is the dominant partner in her relationships.

Stede and crew befriend what they think are a group of Chinese merchants, but end up being a band of pirates who have a bone to pick with Blackbeard and want to find him just as badly as Stede does.They’re using Stede to find Blackbeard’s ship, but somehow it all works out. Don’t ask me how. Meanwhile, Jim is bonding with the cool new lady pirate, but still looking for a way to escape and get back to Olu. Fang and Frenchie are concerned as Ed’s behaviour escalates and Izzy loses his leg - whether it's the severed toe or that rogue gunshot, I don't know. When Stede finally catches up with their ship, they use the crossbow to make a zip line between them - finally, the gang is reunited. Perhaps all of this takes place after the storm that we see Ed standing in. He is reckless and gets himself knocked out. Stede insists on bringing him onto their ship as well, even though everyone thinks Blackbeard is going to kill him. Ed wakes up, headbutts Stede, and things are Tense. Stede is his smiling cherub self and assumes they’ll just go back to the way things were. He says all the wrong things, and Ed is having none of it. He tells Stede that he never wants to see him again once they’re back on land. Stede sighs that he should have just told Ed how he felt instead of whatever came out of his mouth - we all cry. The Chinese pirates forget about whatever they wanted from Ed because he is clearly a broken man and there’s nothing to gain here. Maybe Stede’s crew grew on them, like when we see Buttons doing tai chi with them on deck.

Back on land, Ed tries to leave Stede behind, but Stede keeps following him around and popping up all over the place - like at Spanish Jackie’s place and Anne Bonny and Mary Read’s… antique shop? That look on Ed’s face in the trailer reads as “oh god, he’s back again” to me, not like a first meeting. Anne Bonny and Mary Read either gleefully enjoy the drama of it all or have something more nefarious in mind in revenge of Calico Jack. Izzy absolutely loses his leg because of Ed and is patched up by Stede's crew. Roach uses the ship’s unicorn to create a peg leg. It’s humiliating for Izzy, but he has no choice but to accept. He is vulnerable in a way he has never been before, and instead of casting him out the crew is supportive and tries to help him back onto his feet (well, foot and hoof). This makes him reevaluate not only himself but the group and piracy as a whole - think Long John Silver's arc on Black Sails. He will also have to relearn how to fight and handle himself with the peg leg, so I fully expect a Rocky-style training montage including that shirtless candle slicing scene. This newfound sense of community and purpose combined with the knowledge that Ed really was better with Stede drives Izzy to train Stede in the ways of being a pirate. They both grow to respect each other, the fans cry - give me the montage. There might be a storyline where Olu and Jim have to rediscover their relationship after their separation and Jim growing close to the new crew member. I don’t see them breaking up in any way though - just figuring out where they stand now and how they want to move forward. At the end of the episode someone appears on the ship in English navy clothes, and it turns out to be our boy Lucius. Roll credits.

We learn that Lucius was picked up by the English at the end of season one and has integrated himself into the navy, growing a beard and keeping his head down. He has heard some things and has been looking for a way to rejoin the crew and share this knowledge - maybe their new Prince Ricky fan was an undercover English officer this whole time or something. Black Pete is overjoyed and so are we. Meanwhile, Ed tries to find ways to move on and figure out who he is without a crew and without Stede. He finds himself in an isolated location - maybe after washing ashore after a storm, but this is the part that I can’t figure out - where he talks to a rabbit and starts seeing the ghost of Hornigold. Whether he is using drugs, seriously dehydrated, or just lonely and emotionally unstable, I don’t know. Maybe it’s all of the above. Regardless, he has to face his past and deal with his Blackbeard identity. This is his lowest point, and he ends up throwing himself off the cliff with the rock tied around his middle. Maybe he believes it is a way to pay for what he’s done, maybe he can’t imagine a future for himself without Blackbeard looming over him. Either way, he survives somehow and finds a way to work through the trauma and start over - an ocean baptism, if you will. At the end of all of this is when Ed is finally ready to forgive and move forward with Stede. Perhaps he’s just in time to jump into the fray as Stede is battling the English navy.

I don’t know who this Prince Ricky character is, but it seems like he initially meets Stede’s crew while down and out (or pretending to be), gets his nose cut off along the way (presumably by Jackie), and then leads the English in their battle against the pirates. I do know that there is a historical figure who was an English sailor turned pirate who had the nickname “Prince of Pirates” and used to sail with Hornigold and Blackbeard. However, his name was Samuel Bellamy a.k.a. Black Sam. They may play fast and loose with history though and move some things around. It was actually Hornigold who became a pirate hunter for the English in the end, but maybe they’re going to give that storyline to this guy. I’m really curious to see how it’s going to play out. Fighting back is where Lucius really comes in - he has insider information that the crew can use to form a plan.

The torture ship? Drag show? Earring? I have no clue.

Thank you for letting me vent. Place your bets now on how wrong I’ll end up being!

#Our Flag Means Death #I have officially lost my mind and that's fine #ofmd meta

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catsandgoodbooks · 1 year ago

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No. 29: “I only sink deeper the deeper I think.”

Scented Candle | Troubled Past Resurfacing | “What happened to me?”

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Technoblade passed Dream a green mug, filled to the brim with chamomile. Dream took a cautious first sip the second the piglin looked away and tasted the signature sweetness of healing pots. Ah. So it was Phil’s recipe then. He’d been trying to get Dream off potions, and, if that necessitated a different transfer method because potions were still all too necessary, so be it.

“Last night was fine?” Techno asked, rummaging through one of his chests as he spoke.

Dream nodded, even though he knew Techno couldn’t see him. “Yeah. I didn’t have any dreams.” He ignored the nightmares from the night prior, the way that he had woken up a cold sweat and could only count himself lucky that he hadn’t cried out. If they didn’t know about that, then Dream wasn’t going to tell them.

“Nice. Phil asked me to help patch up his roof ‘cause it’s drafty and Niki wants to talk about building her own house up here. She has her whole underground city, and anyone’s allowed to stay there, but she wants to be a bit closer to us. Somewhere to stay when she comes up for the Syndicate meetings,” Techno elaborated. Dream could tell he was rambling but wasn’t going to interrupt him. “Like, Ranboo has–had a place up here too, even though he usually stayed with Tubbo.” Techno shrugged. “We didn’t question it. You don’t question stuff like that.”

“Sounds complicated,” Dream agreed. He really didn’t want to get swept up into the Ranboo relationship drama thingamajig. As far as he knew, and as far as he cared, Ranboo married Tubbo who had been killed by Technoblade, whom Ranboo had also been friends with and maybe Techno had been his mentor? Dream had no idea.

“You don’t say,” Techno responded monotonely without missing a beat. “Hey, you ever think doing that? Building your own house up here? Like, we all know you’re homeless, but you wouldn’t be if do that anymore. Now that I think about it, that would cause a significant decrease in my entertainment and probably cause some people to unsub, but who cares about that? I could make a good thumbnail out of that. A title too. ‘Dream finally gets a house’– Of course, you’d have to move out first–”

The cup almost slipped from Dream’s lax fingers, and he didn’t try to catch it. His breath hitched. So this was it then. This is when Techno told him to leave and never come back. He’d been so absolutely useless even since they’d brought him to the Arctic Commune, and now he was reaping the consequences of that. Techno realized that he was just dead-weight, just there to drag them down, pointless, a liability, not worth the effort to keep around.

Dream being there just put Technoblade and the rest of the Syndicate in danger. The server was going to come for him eventually, and they all knew it. Techno’s reputation could only keep them away for so long.

Dream knew this was coming. He just didn’t expect it to be so subtle, so polite. He didn’t expect to care this much. He didn’t expect to not want to leave. He knew it was the best think he could do, what he had to do, what he needed to do keep the Plan going. For all the sacrifices he made to be worth it. He knew he needed to leave before he was forced out, so that he could leave on his own terms and no one else’s, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Dream couldn’t hear anything besides his own thoughts. He couldn’t hear a single think that Techno said. He kept thinking, and he only sunk deeper the longer he kept thinking.

Suddenly, Technoblade was there, snapping his fingers under Dream’s nose. “Hey, you there, buddy? It would be really cringe if I broke you out of prison just for you to die on me. If you wanted to do that, you should’ve done it in the first week. Now it’s just weird.”

Dream scowled and leaned away from him. “I’m fine. Just…just thinking.”

Techno rolled his eyes. “Aren’t we all,” he commented. He paused and lowered his voice. “It was something I said, wasn’t it?”

Dream nodded, just a little bit. “I got worried that you were going to kick me out.”

“I’d never do that,” was Techno’s instant response. “Sorry, Teletubby, but that’s not happening. We’re roomies now, and I’m not going to do anything to change that. You can leave if you want, but I’d never make you.”

Dream smiled faintly. It hurt a little. “Thanks. It helps.” The mug, still held loosely between his fingers, helped warm his hands. He was happy he didn’t drop it.

#whumptober2023 #no.29 #lyric #dsmp #fic #c!dream #c!techno #rivals duo #my writing

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littlelioncub43 · 2 years ago

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Super dark!reader having naked Robert and Lloyd on a leash. They have to be on all fours when she walks somewhere and have to sit next to her (also on the floor) when she is having a meeting😏 she loves to humiliate them and loves to punish them

Oh my goodness, its been forever since we talked about Robert Pronge 💀 I went soft for this, I can't help it, I'm a softie!

The bruises on his knees were constant. The ache and tenderness in his joints never went away, you made sure of that. Thankfully, the blue, purple, and yellow marks only decorated his legs; you'd been in a kind mood these last few weeks, and he wanted to keep you like that.

Even now, as you sit in a meeting with one of your arms supplier from the West coast, you idly play with his hair. Hell, you even gave him a blanket to keep the icy bite of your office at bay— you in the best fucking mood on the planet. It was terrifying Robert.

You sat cross-legged in your leather chair at the head of the mahogany meeting table, your attention half on Martinez and half on your little pet at your feet. The statistics were mind-numbing, figures you already read in his report this morning, the meeting only being a formality, a show of respect to you. Martinez, thankfully, was just about done, he could tell you didnt want to be here any longer than necessary.

"That just about covers it, Ma'am. Any other details that I've missed should be in the report I sent this morning, but I'd be happy to go over them again if you'd like me t—"

"No need for that, Martinez, your report was very thorough," you calmly interrupt, still threading your fingers through Bobby's soft locks, your good mood was even scaring Martinez, "you may go now. Give my best to your wife, will you?"

"Yes, of course, Ma'am," he nodded with a well practiced professional smile. "Goodnight."

You don't watch Martinez as he makes his exit, instead keeping your eyes on Bobby, who's eyes were trained on the floor, like you taught him. His favorite dark blue blanket was wrapped around his waist, cushioning his knees. You though about giving him a pillow but you knew that he'd like the blanket more today. With a sigh, you gently turn Robert to face you with a finger on his chin.

"You've been so good for me, pet," you whisper and hold his chin in your hand, your thumb stroking his cheek. Robert was nearly a puddle from the praise alone, but the gentle touches were sending him deep into the headspace only you could put him in. You grin when you see his eyes glaze over. God, he was so fucking easy to control. "You like being good, don't you, pet?"

"Yes, Mistress," he agrees immediately, his voice dreamy and desperate— absolutely pathetic, "I love being good."

"I know you do, baby," you coo and lean down to kiss his forehead, a reward. When you pull back, Bobby's hands are gripping the blanket over his thighs firmly to keep to himself, ever the good boy. What catches your eye is the growing tent beneath the navy blue blanket. "Aw, Bobby, are you hard?"

He nods as his face flushes with a combination of embarrassment and desire. He can barely remember a time when you calling him 'pet' didn't get him harder than a fucking rock, but he knows he wasn't always like this. The thought doesn't linger for long when you tug his leather leash to bring him closer to you, your lips barely touching as you speak.

"Shall I take care of that for you, pet?"

How can he refuse?

#murderer mondays #murderer monday drabble fest #romantic murderer monday #murderer monday #robert pronge x reader #robert pronge x you #robert pronge x y/n #dark!reader #robert pronge x dark!reader #mr freezy #mr. freezy #mr. freezy x you #mr. freezy x fem!reader #mr. freezy x female reader #mr. freezy x dark!reader #chris evans characters #little lion literature

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dinoplantsghost · 7 months ago

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pairing: Tom Riddle x fem! original character

warning(s): tom is a warning in itself, 1940s: time-accurate prejudice, violence: t0rture (Cruciatus Curse), teenage behavior: drama and language

word count: ~2112

Disclaimer: I have a huge google doc that holds all of my drafts and I'm quite literally just copypasting everything, so if there are any typos/errors, no there isn't!! :)

-- omg this chapter is so short but im absolutely so tired with school so this is all im dropping right now unfortunately. maybe ill drop another one after this, idfk, we'll see !!! :D

Chapter List

The Magic of Friendship [6]

Tom enjoyed his quiet walk to the Astronomy Tower. He always preferred the nighttime over day. Though, it was only during his stay at Hogwarts. Anywhere else and he would choose sunlight over all; the sirens always went off at night.

Hogwarts had changed his perspective on life, how special it was—how finite it was. You were only given one life, and you were expected to live it to its fullest potential; and Tom was full of potential. He was destined for greatness.

One lifetime is too short for him. He needed more; more time to conduct his plans to bring the Wizarding World to its fullest capacity. Muggles were mean, crude, and above all, ignorant. They knew nothing of what they were afraid of. They were all going to die by his doing sooner or later. Surely, in a far away universe, his mother would be proud of him.

When he turned the corner to round up the staircase, Tom saw a blur of blue illuminated by the moon before a pair of jade was shoved into his vision.

“Where is Patrick?” The girl asked, her frames sliding off her flat nose. “I never got to catch up with him after the Quidditch match.”

“Nott caught a stomach bug from dinner, and so did Mulciber.” Tom said, slipping past Saoirse as he made his way to his assigned telescope, far away from the nuisance that was she.

“From dinner,” she echoed, unaware of the sigh that fell from the boy’s nose. “Are they okay? Maybe I should go check up on him—well, them—after class.”

“That won’t be necessary, they’ve been admitted into the Hospital Wing already.”

Saoirse’s brows furrowed. “I know that tone; that’s the same tone my father uses when he’s lying. Why are you lying to me, Riddle, what happened to Patrick?”

Tom fought the urge to roll his eyes. “Darling, why would I ever lie to you,” he said condescendingly. “All of this concern for a boy you just met; I dare say you fancy him.”

“I don’t fancy him, whatever that means—”

Saoirse was cut off, a tall and awkward man standing behind her in the shadows of the night. “You two,” Professor Jensen said. “Why haven’t you started your assignment? Class started ten minutes ago.”

“Our apologies, professor,” Tom hummed pleasantly. “Unfortunately, Saoirse’s partner has fallen ill, and we were merely discussing temporary arrangements until Nott is better.”

Jensen nodded, his shoulders relaxing at Tom’s soothing words. The boy always had a way with adults. “Well, then,” he smiled. “I’m glad Riddle is kind enough to offer assistance to you, Miss Saoirse; five points to Slytherin.”

Saoirse couldn’t focus anymore after Riddle’s sass. The rest of class was silent between the two, their hands occasionally passing by as they reached over to grab something. She enjoyed it more when Patrick listened to her talk about whatever she felt like chatting about at the moment. It helped her practice her English.

She was nothing but worried for him. Surely, he was smart enough to keep his mouth shut around someone as temperamental as Riddle, right? Whatever the case may be, she only hoped she didn’t find the boy dead on the ground somewhere.

“You know,” Tom muttered, his first words after the first hour or two of class. “Nott is awfully fond of you; he’s been reading in the romance genre lately.”

Saoirse’s cheeks turned hot, brighter than the moonlight that reflected off her cheekbones and forehead. “That’s not a funny joke, you know…”

“It’s not a joke; it’s the truth. He’s usually by himself most of the time, but now he spends all his time with you. It’s amusing to see, actually.”

Saoirse scoffed, “Well, I think that’s really sweet of him. Of course, you wouldn’t get it; you don’t seem like the type to believe in love or anything romantic. I actually can’t believe that girls waste their time with you.”

“At least they have good taste.” He muttered, his ego flaring until fading away immediately when Saoirse whacked his arm.

TR~S

The first smell in the Slytherin dungeons that fills the nose is the pungent, stagnant water lingering from the dripping sewage pipes. The wear and tear of the castle is very noticeable since the school keeper deliberately avoids dirtier places that need more work than usual. However, the students of green and silver try their best to maintain the elegance that comes with a pureblooded community.

The interior of the Slytherin common room differed from its outside completely; with pristine furniture and glistening marble columns, it was the home of a tight-knit group, often used for gossip and other disparaging remarks that are meant for the common room and the common room only.

Somehow, by some miracle, Saoirse was able to convince Tom to let her in the snake den. She was too determined, too worried about Patrick and his friends—well, more of Patrick than his friends.

The culture surrounding the Slytherin’s fascinated her. When she walked into their awfully green living space, Saoirse saw a couple of upperclassmen standing by one of the many glass windows that protected them from the Black Lake. Looking on and into the murky water, Saoirse saw merpeople waving their hands at the children, forming signs.

The Ravenclaw shook her head, stomping her way to the left staircase that wrapped around the bulky statue of a man whom she assumed to be Salazar Slytherin. Remembering Riddle’s words, she walked down the hall to inspect each door, finding the one with the silver number of thirteen before knocking softly.

“Hello? It’s me, Saoirse.” She waited patiently, nibbling on her nail folds before the door swung open, a weak and defeated Abraxas frowning at the girl.

“What do you want?” He asked, his voice so unlike his usual tone of pride and ignorance. His hair was oily, slicked back and pushed behind his ears as bandages sat on his face and neck.

She walked in, gently moving the taller boy out the way. “I heard what happened, so I came to see you all.”

“No, don’t look at us; we’re ugly…” Groaned Eloise, his pillow muffling the sounds of his growing pains as it sat on his face.

“That’s just what you look like, Avery.” she sighed. “Where is Patrick?”

“He’s right there,” Abraxas said from behind, walking around to lay back down on the bed already occupied by Miles. “He knocked out cold after Tom left; he usually doesn’t get punished, so he isn’t used to the pain.”

Saoirse frowned, slipping her flats off before sitting at the head of Patrick’s bed. Her weight caused the duvet to dip, his limp body following its contours. With gentle hands, she picked up his head to rest in her lap as her fingers lost in his hair. She took his bent glasses off his nose and set them down on his bedside drawer.

“Does Riddle always lash out like this?” She asked quietly, her wand in hand as she slowly healed his wounds, from the small scratches littering his skin to the large bruise under his left eye.

“Not usually,” Orion uttered, “but it’s always harsh whenever it does happen; he has major problems.”

Miles chimed in, his body rolling over to face the girl. “He used the Cruciatus Curse, if you’re wondering. It feels like a bunch of knives and needles are being stabbed into you all at once. It makes you lose track of time after a while.”

Saoirse nodded, her eyes tracing the lines of Patrick’s pale and sickly face. “Why did Riddle get mad anyways?”

She was met with silence from the boys.

“Well, it’s complicated.” Louis coughed, his hair out of its usual tight bun as he rested on Cassius’s shoulder, who just so happened to be sitting next to him. “Tom was angry at us for not doing what we were supposed to, and he was mad at Patrick for hanging out with you.”

“Why would he care who Patrick is hanging out with?”

Eloise sighed. “Because we’re supposed to be ‘focusing on other things’ as he put it…like how we’re supposed to be looking for the Chamber of Secrets—”

The rest of the boys, save for Patrick, groaned in disbelief as their friend was too delirious to realize his mistake.

“Excuse me—Chamber of Secrets, what is that?” Saoirse asked, confusion written all over as she watched Abraxas throw a weak attempt at hitting the heir of Avery in the face, his deflated pillow plopping onto the floor.

“It’s something Salazar Slytherin made when Hogwarts was built long ago.” Abraxas said. “The other founders: Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, and Rowena Ravenclaw, had differing opinions from Salazar concerning half-bloods and Muggleborns. He harbored resentment towards anyone without a pure magical lineage, and so he created the Chamber of Secrets to house a monster that was supposed to rid the school of those he deemed unworthy of magic.”

“Why are we telling her this, this was supposed to be a secret.” Pressed Orion.

“There’s no point in keeping it a secret, she’s already involved; it’s Eloise’s fault anyways.”

“I’m sorry that I feel like my head is about to explode, chicken boy.” Cried Eloise.

Saoirse sat in thought, contemplating the information she was fed. Riddle, who made it his mission to be calm and collected, the epitome of gentlemanly perfection and the poster boy of Hogwarts, was merely a boy loyal to his peers and had major anger issues, it seemed. Why he was determined to open the Chamber himself was unknown to the girl, but he was playing his cards wrong. Riddle was driven by emotion in times of stress, as seen by how weak and fearful his posse was. Patrick was still out cold, Lestrange and Malfoy were hanging off the bed they were laying on, Black was sagging into a fluffy, oblong seat; Avery was on the bed diagonal from where Patick’s bed was, face down, and Rosier and Mulciber were in their own world directly across.

“Does Riddle force you all to do things for him,” she whispered, breaking the silence between the group of boys. “Why do you put up with him? These abusive outbursts seem to be commonplace.”

“Because at the end of the day, we trust him; he’s our friend.”

Saoirse felt the weight on her lap shifting, causing her gaze to follow. Patrick sat up slowly, palms on his sheets in search of his glasses. The girl was quick to hand them to the boy.

“Tom,” Patrick continued. “is very complicated, to put it simply. We know that we shouldn’t put up with his anger—his obsessions, but he has good reason to be obsessed. He promised us that he would do the world good, and if that means a few punches and spells here and there, then I would do anything to make sure his goals are accomplished.”

The other boys made affirming sounds. Louis pulled away from Cassius, his back straighter and his eyes brighter than before. “Before we met Tom, we were nothing but a bunch of rich boys with a reputation to uphold. In our families, there are definitely other people our parents are proud of. But with Tom, he gives us hope; a purpose. Tom has pushed our boundaries time and time again, only to prove that we are worthy of our names, of this privilege he’s given us to be his followers—the Knights of Walpurgis.”

Saoirse hesitated to speak, her thoughts running many miles an hour before she opened her mouth. “If I became one of his followers,” she started. “Would that help? I don’t like that you’re all beat up, Patrick.”

The boy in question stuttered, “What? No, I don’t want you involved, Saoirse.”

“Actually, it would help us,” said Orion.

Everyone turned to face the melancholy teenager in the corner of the room. He leaned forward, forearms pressed against his knees and his palms clasped together. He blinked once, then twice, until Eloise stupidly made a noise of acknowledgement, slapping his forehead and then regretting it immediately as his head pounded against his skull.

Avery tossed in the bed, his hands in prayer as he knelt in Saoise’s direction. “Please, lady of the exotics, I beg of you! Aid us with your pretty magic ways and your dainty, womanly touch; heal us!”

As Saoirse begrudgingly raised her wand, Patrick sat beside her with a heavy heart. “Saoirse, please don’t tell me you’re thinking about joining,” he whispered. “The things we do, what we stand for—it’s nothing you want to be involved with.”

“I can handle myself, Patrick; nothing bad will happen.”

Credit(s): Dividing banner (^^^) by Chen Lu (1436 - 1449) - "Plum Blossoms in Moonlight" scroll painting; sourced through Pinterest

#tom riddle #fanfic #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle fanfiction #harry potter fandom #harry potter fanfiction #fanfiction #decade: 1940s #1940s #wattpad #dinoyaps #im so fucking tired #bro #i swear to god

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soleilnomoon · 3 years ago

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CONGRATS ON 555+ FOLLOWERS!! THATS AMAZING!! AND AN OPPORTUNITY TO THROW IN A REQUEST TOO?? DONT MIND IF I DOO~

may I order a caramel mocha latte, with a konpeitō, a lemon drop, and a candy necklace? and maybe a dollop of whipped cream too? the name for the order will be Trafalgar Law from One Piece, please! 👉👈🥹🥰💕✨

omg thank you so much, i really appreciate that 🤭💛💕also thank u for your patience, this was a beast to write - law is impossible and i'm stubborn, but i finished it and survived (i hope u survive too) <3 please enjoy your sugar rush ༺♥༻❀༺♥༻

4.2k words (i know, i know), fem reader, nsfw, 18+ mdni, fluff (somewhere, it's there, believe me), a bit of angst bc i'm a sucker for that stuff, and a lot of smut; modern/office au (hope u don't mind), fake dating/marriage; law's a little mean but reader dishes it right back & has a solid bite, so it balances out, i think; also lots of pining and flirting, tiny bit of jealousy, etc.

��absolutely not.”

you place your coffee mug onto the counter and stare, wide-eyed at the tall bastard before you. trafalgar law is the most audacious man you’ve ever met, and even more so, he insists himself upon you whenever he can — almost as if he gets off on seeing you fly off the handle and mouth off at him. men who are handsome like him — dark, enigmatic, a force to be reckoned with if you’re not careful — are a complication that you don’t need in your life.

“a favor,” he says, leaning against the counter, towering over you in a way that makes you want to slap him, “and it’ll just be for one night.”

again you stare, and shake your head, curls bouncing around in defiance, almost as if they too agree with your decision.

“no. i don’t know how many more times i need to say it for you to get it through your thick skull.”

you’re laying it on thicker than necessary, but the truth of the matter is, law makes you nervous. most people don’t; if anything, you’re the one who intimidates others. but him? you can’t accurately get a read on him, nor can you ever guess what he’s thinking. he always looks at you as if he’s figured you out, giving you sly smiles that make you want to dump your coffee on him daily. your friends say you overreact, your mother implies that there’s something going on between you two — made worse by the fact that law is too damn good at buttering her up with his politeness — and your coworkers are under the impression that you’re one argument away from fucking in the break room.

you don’t know which of those is worse.

“you’re being dramatic,” he counters, tongue running along his bottom lip as he considers switching tactics; you get distracted, stare at his mouth a little too long, which of course catches his attention. a smirk slips onto his lips as he leans forward. “i’ll make it worth your while.”

a scoff leaves your mouth faster than you can stop it.

he presses his lips together and tries again. “let’s make a bet, then. if i win, you’ll be my date for my friend’s party.” a wedding anniversary of all things; a completely useless affair, but law is loyal to a fault, and he already said he was going and bringing someone. everyone else annoys him, except you; so naturally you’re the perfect candidate. it also helps that he knows you’re as attracted to him as he is to you — you’re just stubborn as hell.

“go on,” you say wearily and dump the remainder of your coffee out in the sink. “what happens when you lose?”

it’s not cockiness that drives him to say, “i won’t lose, but if it does happen, i’ll let you have one of my high profile clients.”

a lucrative deal, one that has you roll your bottom lip in between your teeth, and internally debate as you consider the slight possibility of you losing. on the other hand, if you win you’ll walk out with the satisfaction of beating law at his own game, and scoring another client; this might actually work if you put your mind to it.

“what’s the bet?” you narrow your eyes at him but lose a bit of nerve when you see the heated glance he sends your way; you busy yourself with rinsing your mug out several times over for some reason, the water cold enough to shake those pesky thoughts away from your mind.

law’s mouth curves into a devilish grin as he drops his voice. “i can help you with your,” he pauses, giving you a knowing look, one that brings a silly flush to your face, “little problem.”

if your rising blood pressure doesn’t kill you, his incessant teasing will. “what ‘little’ problem is that?” you’re already regretting this, but you’re too curious to not see this through. “whatever it is, i doubt you’ll actually be able to help, as useless as you are.” it’s not true, he’s far from useless, but you know that if you feed him a compliment, you’ll regret that too.

“see that’s why your problem will never go away,” he sighs at that before continuing, “i’m talking about the problem where you can’t seem to cum no matter what you do.”

he has more to say, but you shoot forward and clamp your hands around his mouth — his foolish, stupid mouth — muffling the rest of whatever nonsense he wants to spew. “who told you that?” your voice comes out in a harsh whisper, which only makes him laugh behind your hand, his breath tickling your palm, your face growing hotter as you look around to make sure that no one else is around.

there’s no way he’ll reveal that, but you look so cute when you’re all determined like that.

law pries your hands off of him. “it doesn’t matter. so, what do you say?”

you have so many questions, but know if you hurl them at him left and right, he might be prompted to do something and you’re not prepared for what he has in store for you.

“let me get this straight. if you somehow manage to make me cum,” your voice is so soft, he has to lean close to hear you properly, “i have to accompany you to your friend’s party.”

“it’s a simple bet, really.”

nothing about the bet is simple, but the point is that you’re fairly certain you can win this — if you remain strong, that is.

“fine.”

you steel your face, hoping that your lip stops quivering so you can appear every bit as unaffected as you claim you are. he doesn’t buy the act, and leans forward, his face just a breath away, the tip of his nose grazing yours; you’re sure he’s going to kiss you and, on instinct, your lips part — you’d be lying if you said you weren’t curious or excited over the possibility.

law tilts his head slightly, envisioning the satisfying checkmate that lies in his future, eyelids lowering, partially obscuring his amber eyes; you swallow thickly and don’t bother taking a step back. you know if you do, you’ll lose — and you’re not sure if the bet has started or not, but you need all the strength you can muster to survive.

“wonderful,” he says, voice resonant — vibrating against your skin, another bothersome flush stretching over your cheeks, making it impossible to breathe — “see you later, then.” and then, he straightens up and walks away.

small, crescent-shaped indents appear on your palms from how deeply you sink your nails into your skin. it’s not anger you feel at him, so much as it is agitation with yourself. if only he could be a little more predictive, you’d have the upper hand. but, as you watch his retreating form, you realize, belatedly, that maybe — just maybe — you’ve bitten off more than you can chew. you don’t like the thought of that, at all.

you expect him to find you after work, but he leaves early; strange, but not entirely abnormal. to say you’re disappointed wouldn’t be untrue, but you have no intention of openly admitting that. the following morning, he comes in late, grinning and joking with the manager, loud enough to catch your attention. you carefully peek outside of your office, doing your best to look casual and inconspicuous; he feels you watching him, but since your attitude needs a bit of taming, he ignores you.

normally, law finds a reason to appear at your office around lunchtime, always inviting you to eat with him and a few others — and, while you tend to decline more often than not, you feel a bit unsettled when he doesn’t come by. strange. very, very strange. on the third day you’re sure you’re losing your mind. he hasn’t spoken to you in 72 hours — you haven’t been counting, that would be absurd — which should bring you some semblance of peace and joy, but it doesn’t.

disappointment makes your coffee taste sour. it sits in your stomach, hard like concrete, impossible to digest, and even more annoying to chip away at.

you think about the way he almost kissed you — and you were very sure he was going to kiss you, if you hadn’t been so opposed to him crowding routinely crowding your space — and the way your skin never fully recovered, a feverish madness taking over your mind, filling every crevice of your thoughts with images of him — his lips, his long fingers, the way he always seems to have some sort of inside joke with himself whenever he looks at you.

it affects your attitude at work; you snap at your coworkers, refuse to participate in whatever menial meeting the manager tries to drag you to, and spend most of your day in your office. until you can’t take it anymore.

four days, that’s all it takes. he’s impressed with your resolve and even more impressed with the fact that you haven’t cursed him and his future descendants to hell and back for keeping you at bay. he knows that you’re like a dog with a bone, eager to investigate, determined to see things through immediately. but law is much more feline, and enjoys the hunt more than anything. he didn’t know how much longer he could keep away from you, but he’s very grateful that you’ve finally made up your mind about things.

you stomp over to his office on the other end of the hall, barging in, irritation prickling underneath your skin at the sight of one of the temp workers leaning over his desk and going above and beyond with showing him some simple graphs she put together. you don’t like the way her fingers graze his, don’t like the way she intentionally drops her voice to whisper something unintelligible at him, and you really don’t like how he glances up at you, a slow, amused grin spreading onto his lips with ease.

the other woman glances over at you, confusion etched into her pretty face; you absolutely detest her right now.

“umm,” she starts, straightening up, eyes widening at the sight of you. her nervousness should be a sign for you to ease up a bit, but you don’t. “hi, i’m not sure we’ve met properly yet, but i’m—”

you glance at her for no longer than a few seconds, your indifference pushing you to curtly say, “move.” she stutters over her words, not quite understanding, so you say it in a different way. “get. out.” of the office, you mean. she doesn’t wait for you to say it again. when the door shuts behind her, you march over to him, lips fixed in a thin line, eyes blazing as you jab a manicured finger against his chest. the sight is plenty unprofessional, what with the top buttons of his shirt undone, his jacket draped lazily over the back of his chair, the sleeves of his button up rolled up and exposing his thick forearms.

you try to ignore it all, but you can’t.

“you,” there’s nothing else you want to say, nothing else you can say; you’ve already scared off the newbie, you know there will be a memo or meeting about it later. but you don’t care; you really, truly don’t. “what is your problem?”

he supposes he likes this side of you best — the petty, jealous side, the one you try to keep hidden but can’t help but let out whenever you feel threatened in the shallowest way. still, he knows better than to say this out loud; he’d like to leave the office in one piece today.

“that was unnecessarily harsh of you,” he says in lieu of answering your question. you’re normally not that venomous, but for some reason, you felt compelled — jealousy is not something you deal with well, and you know you’ll need to apologize properly later, but you can’t think about that right now. all you can think about is somehow wiping that disgustingly handsome look off his face. law grabs your wrist, his long, tattooed fingers wrapping around it securely, the contact from his skin searing you, stirring a frenzy within you, making you want impossible things all at once. your breath catches in your throat the moment he pulls you onto his lap, your brain ceasing any functional capabilities as you straddle him, skirt riding up higher, exposing your thighs, your skin smooth and silky to the touch.

all your fight leaves your body as you concede to your desires.

“took you long enough to come to me.” he presses a single, burning kiss against the inside of your wrist, setting your body and nerves aflame. “four days is a long time, y/n… i’m not a patient man.” he really isn’t, but for you, he always will be.

you roll your eyes, do your best not to whimper when he kisses your other wrist, all your self-preservation and stubbornness melting away. “it’s your fault,” you say childishly, earning a quiet chuckle from him. “you said…”

he raises a brow at you, prompting you to continue.

your nerves almost get the best of you, but you don’t let them win. “you were going to—”

“make you cum, yes.” you’re taking much too long, and the softness of your body only makes it that much more difficult to concentrate on your words; he doesn’t bother hiding his erection, nor does he seem to mind when you jerk your hips against his when he kisses the palm of your hand.

“god, are you going to make me say it?” you can’t believe him; if you had the energy, you’d slap him, you really would — but you’re tapped out, too hot and bothered to fight him anymore.

“i’ve never been called god before,” he muses out loud, you narrow your eyes at him and he laughs again. “yes, i need to hear you say it.” because what’s the point if he has to do everything himself?

your throat constricts, face grows hot all over again, and you’re sure you’ll regret this later, but you manage to squeak out, “i want you.” it’s a confession that’s a few years too late, but he’ll take that over rejection any day. you forget that the point is to prevent him from winning his bet, but the idea of him touching you, of him making you beg, makes it impossible to do things the way you want to.

“now, doesn’t that feel good? to say it out loud, finally?”

his arrogance knows no bounds, but you can’t continue fighting him, not when your body is at its limit.

“stop teasing me, damn it.”

he really can’t help himself, but he supposes he ought to throw you a bone for coming this far. “sit on the desk,” he says, and releases his hold on your wrists.

when you don’t move, a hardened edge coats each word that comes out of his mouth afterwards. “it’s not a request.” you suppose you might as well listen, there’s no turning back at this point, and you want to get this over with — and prove to yourself that once and for all that you don’t actually like him, that this is a one time thing, and that you’ll be able to move on with your life afterwards.

you’re gravely mistaken, but you don’t know that yet.

he watches you scramble off of his lap and hoist yourself onto his desk, scattering the papers he was reviewing onto the floor. swiveling in his chair to face you, he tilts his head again, eyes darkening as you squeeze your thighs together. the way he unnerves you, the way he makes you want to act out, it’s so unsettling; you want to keep chasing that feeling until you’re certain it’s a fluke.

“do i need to keep spelling things out for you?”

licking your lips, you understand the silent command, tugging your skirt up higher and spreading your legs for him. for a moment, neither of you say anything, a charged tension hanging above both of your heads, making you light-headed as your breathing slows. it’s not like you want him to know, but it’s too hard to hide your arousal, especially with the dampness that stains the front of your panties.

“take them off.”

you don’t know what possesses you to listen, but you do, hook your thumbs underneath the lace band of your panties and pull them down slowly. because he’s so dedicated to observing you, he watches carefully, gaze sharp and hawkish, another flush crawling along your face, down your throat, spilling onto your chest — making it difficult to breathe again. he wishes he could capture this all on video, so he could revisit it later, because the sight of you, so vulnerable, practically trembling on his desk as your arousal seeps onto his desk, ruining one of the documents sitting underneath you.

his laughter isn’t mocking so much as it is just thinly veiled amusement at your compliance; it takes on a life of its own and nestles itself inside of you, warming your chest, making your heart beat faster than necessary.

law flicks his tongue against the inside of his cheek, his cock hard enough to make him want to fuck you right then and there; but, because he waited this long already, he’s willing to move at your pace. he runs a finger along your folds slowly, your irritation spiking at the way you melt at his touch, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip to stifle the insufferable noises that dare to come out of your mouth. he glances at you, disapproving of your choice to keep your true feelings hidden as he stands up suddenly. with his free hand he tugs your lip free, sucking his teeth at your defiance, hand gripping your face roughly.

“i don’t think you understand,” he says briskly, his finger running up and down your slit, a soft whimper prancing along the back of your mouth, tumbling into the air recklessly. “we’re playing by my rules, not yours.” you inhale sharply, eyes widening at his words, your whimpering steadily increasing in volume when he grazes your clit with the tip of his finger. “now,” his lips graze your jaw, breath warm and dizzying, “be a good girl and spread your legs wider.”

you do your best to comply, gasping when you feel him slip his finger inside of you — a welcomed intrusion that has you rolling your hips forward; his eyes never leave yours as he plunges his finger into you, your warm, tight walls squeezing, making him insert another finger in response. you let out a moan, one that you attempt to keep hidden, but his hand slides from your face down to your neck and he wraps his hand around it — a warning, of sorts, for you to behave. you’re not sure if it’s the taboo of fucking in his office, or if it’s just him, but your hips buck against his hand wildly, the fleshy part of his palm bumping against your clit with each thrust of his fingers.

the walls in the office are thick but not soundproof, and you don’t think about any of that when you repeatedly call out his name, his fingers scissoring inside of your throbbing cunt, your arousal dripping down to his wrist. he can tell you hate how much you’re enjoying this right now, which only makes him squeeze your throat — firm enough to hold you still, but not tight enough to bring you any lasting pain.

“law, w-wait, wait,” you gasp and moan louder, a familiar buildup pooling in your lower abdomen, making your breathing erratic and your mind fuzzy.

“hm, i think i know what the problem is,” he says lightly, curling his fingers, wrist angling so he can reach a spot you’ve never had the pleasure of reaching by yourself. your subsequent cries are music to his ears; he smiles down at you wickedly, a third finger finding its way inside of your pussy. “you’re sensitive.” very sensitive at that. you don’t know what he means, but you don’t question it — after all, his fingers are commanding your body with ease and skill, and where you normally don’t push yourself past this point, possibly in fear of enjoying it too much, he doesn’t let up. law is every bit as relentless as you knew he’d be, finger-fucking you until your words come out garbled, your chest heaving as an orgasm nearly splits you apart.

“oh, fuck, fuck, fuck.” you can’t believe it, you should be pissed off but you’re not; you’re relieved. he works you through the orgasm and plucks his fingers out when you settle down. releasing his hold around your neck, he takes his time to lick his fingers as shame courses through you. and just when you think he’s done, he pulls you closer and finally kisses you. his tongue thrusts into your mouth, every bit as deadly as his fingers were; you don’t expect tenderness, but you’re surprised by the ferocity behind his kiss. teeth nipping at your lips playfully, you press your chest against his, hands reaching between you so you can unbuckle his belt and zip down his pants.

he didn’t expect you to take initiative, but he’s glad you’re on the same wavelength as him now. pre-cum slithers out of his slit, the head of his cock a reddish-pink, his length heavy in your soft hands. you’re not in the business of dragging things out, so you mumble against his lips, begging him to fuck you — so you can maybe carry on with your day without issue. because he’s such a benevolent person, he acquiesces almost immediately, lining the tip of his cock with your entrance, hands grabbing onto your hips as he snaps his hips forward and buries his cock inside of you.

stuck in a trance, you lift your hips to meet his, euphoria wrapping around you — an exhilarating rush, magical and overpowering — no matter how many times you imagined this exact scenario, it’s nothing like the real thing. a thundering sound echoes inside of you when he pushes you down onto the desk and drapes your shapely legs over his shoulders. it has you calling out his name so loud that you’re sure the occupants in the neighboring building can probably hear you.

he pulls back before slamming his cock into you again, strokes long and daunting as his thrusts grow frenzied with each passing minute. you can hardly breathe, and he trails kisses down the length of your throat, tongue sampling your skin, enjoying the way you can’t seem to stop clenching around him. he moans against your neck, voice vibrating through you, and you sift your fingers through his hair, yanking when his cock hits a certain spot. law fucks you like you’ve pissed him off somehow, which confuses and arouses you; isn’t this what he wanted? to have you at his mercy, begging him for more?

but, what you fail to understand is that he’s mostly pissed at himself — pissed for taking so long, pissed for not being more frank and straight-forward with his intentions, pissed that you pushed him away when you both could’ve had this.

and the soft pants that leave your mouth only makes him yearn for you even more; it’s silly, slightly obsessive, but he can’t help it. you’ll be the death of him, surely, but for now, he’ll enjoy this slow descent into madness. “you’re taking me so well,” he says smoothly, his mouth grazing the shell of your ear, “fuck… i don’t think i can let you go after this.” what he means by that is beyond him; it sort of spills out, a small nugget of truth he can’t afford to part with. he powers into you, over and over, your pussy puffy from the ruthless way he fucks you, and when you cum again he follows shortly after, panting, a light sheen of sweat coating his forehead as his cum thickly pours into you.

you inhale deeply, hands clinging onto him, almost as if you’re afraid to let go; similarly he feels every bit as light-headed and drunk off of you. an impressive feat, one he can admit to freely. you’re not sure if he won because he made you cum more than once, or if you did for making him cum hard enough to make him reconsider things. still, you know just as well as he does, that there’s no coming back from this; you can’t simply act as if everything is fine, not when you’ve seen just how much you affect him. you didn’t know — or, rather, you chose not to know — and now that you’re cognizant of it, you’re hooked on him.

not that he minds, it only makes everything easier; he’s sure that your coworkers are probably collecting on their bets now, after all, the entire office knows just how much you both liked one another. you sealed your fate when you walked into his office, and now that he’s had you, he’s definitely going to keep you.

#fic request #🍭✨🍨sticky & sweet event🧁✨🍭#trafalgar law #trafalgar law smut #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law x y/n #one piece imagine #one piece smut #one piece fluff #one piece x y/n #one piece x reader #law is a menace and he's not sry at all #milestone event #500+ followers event #ottersdeservelove #thanks for requesting! i'm having fun w. this event can u tell #law smut #law x reader #law x y/n

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thirstyforlulu · 4 years ago

Note

Yandere Hellsing x Reader HCs? Including Millennium

Integra:

She’s a very possessive yandere

With her money and power, she has the means to get her hands on you

She’s good at playing cool, you won’t catch on for a while

Sure you notice that she never sends you on missions and that she’s always having you work near her office, but that’s just her being a good friend

When she decides to approach you romantically, she’s very forward

Around you she’s a touch starved animal, unlike her usual put together appearance

If you deny her feelings or try to run, get ready because she’s not giving up that easily

She’ll pull whatever strings she has to in order to find you

She’ll spend thousands bribing people or tracking you

Once she knows where you are, she’ll send Alucard to collect you

When she has you she’s very loving

She’ll want to constantly be touching you in some way

Usually that means sitting beside her while she works at her desk

As long as you’re good, she’ll let you wander the entirety of the manor

Since you tried to run she’s added all sorts of security measures so you can’t get out

Act up though and she will chain you to the wall in her office

“Y/N, your behavior has been deplorable lately and needs correcting.

Don’t give me those sad eyes, this is all your fault.”

Walter:

He’s a sneaky yandere

Very observant, he’ll learn your patterns and preferences

At the start he’ll leave you gifts like your favorite food or pretty flowers

He uses it as an excuse to get closer to you

He’s always offering to do favors for you, secretly lowering your defenses around him

He’s not the type to take anything from you but he will take the time to appreciate them

If you let him clean your room he’ll likely pause to sniff some clothes

You notice how much he knows about you but you just think he’s very observant

You don’t realize it’s due to his obsession

He’s the type to take more precautions

If you deny his advances he’ll lock you up somewhere, probably his room

He’ll get chains and a cage if necessary

If you really act up, he’ll lock you in the basement

The way you cling to him in fear after spending all night in the dark is addictive

His wires are always nearby

If you try to run you’ll only get a few steps out the door before the wires wrap you up and pull you back

He does his best not to hurt you, but if you struggle too much, a few cuts are inevitable

Seras:

She’s a very clingy yandere

She’ll want you on every mission she goes on

When you have free time she’ll take you out into the area nearby for some quality time

If you ever push her away, she gets angry

She’ll pout like a child then force her way into whatever it is you’re doing

At the time, she’ll act like it’s just a coincidence and you might even believe her

You’re not getting rid of her so easily

She’s also a very sweet yandere

If she feels she’s hurt your feelings she’ll go out of her way to get you presents or treat you nicely

Until you say you forgive her, she won’t stop pampering you

No one else is allowed near you, not even Integra

She’ll make excuses and do whatever it takes to keep you to herself

She would never kidnap you or lock you up because she hates to see you sad, but her “loving” behavior will be a trap in itself

Don’t forget that despite how cute she is, she’s still a powerful monster that can and will do what it takes to keep you

If that means making you one of her familiars then so be it

Alucard:

He’s a terrifying yandere

He can control you and the people around you, holding you captive

You’re not a stupid person, you know how easily he could end your life, so you tend to let it all happen

On the plus side, he’s very passionate and often brings you gifts

He’s such a smooth talker you’ll end up forgetting the terrifying threats he’s made in the past

Anyone who flirts with you will mysteriously disappear

Anyone who hurts you will turn up days later torn to shreds in a ditch

He would never do anything to hurt you, but that doesn’t stop him from making threats

“I could tear you apart just like that man from last week. I would love to hear your moans of anguish, but I’d prefer moans of pleasure.”

When you act out he manhandles you

He’ll press you against a wall and bite your neck to remind you of your place

He enjoys when you become complicit, but he likes when you’re occasionally act out

It gives him an excuse to punish you, which he always loves

After that, you’ll think twice before disobeying him

Millenium:

Jan:

Bro this man is already wild

When he sets his sights on you it’s go time

He won’t let anyone else near you or get to know you, not even his brother

He’ll threaten people, meeting them after work for overstepping their boundaries

He’s very touchy, like he’s trying to leave his scent all over you

Out in public, he’ll hang on you, showing others that you’re already taken

He’ll growl at people that look at you too long when passing by

He flicks a lot of people off, all the time but more so when he’s around you

He’s paranoid and doesn’t like anyone else around you, even friends

Clearly he’s a fan of body modification so if he can convince you he’ll want to get some kind of matching piercing/tattoo

If you get it, he’ll pay special attention to it any time you cuddle, running his fingers over it countless times

He can be very intense so he might yell at you, but when he sees the hurt look in your eyes he backs off

In his own weird way, he loves you and doesn’t want to see you hurting

But if he has to hurt you to keep you then so be it

Luke:

He’s not as subtle as he thinks he is

He tries to play it cool, but if someone tries to touch you he will blatantly smack their hand away

Always has an excuse to be around you and if he doesn’t, he’ll find one

He’s not as touchy as Jan, but he does like to hold your hand

You’ll feel his pinky brush against you before his hand completely envelops yours

His grip tightens when he sees you looking at others

Your attention is something he so desperately craves

He gives you every moment of his time and he wants you to do the same

If you’re ever in danger he’s there before anyone else even knows

It helps that he was already watching you

Be ready to compensate him

At first he’s just worried about you, but then once he knows you’re alright, he’ll start making demands

“You owe me for coming to your rescue dear. Or would you like me to toss you back? Maybe then you’ll beg me in such a cute way.”

Rip:

She does not care what other people think

She’ll ruin relationships to get closer to you

She’ll endanger her own job if it keeps you two apart

Doing favors is how she gets closer to you

Anytime you need something she’s there and ready to go

She’d leave in the middle of a mission if she hears you need help

Anyone causing you problems will be slaughtered and presented to you as a gift

“See y/n, I took off their heads just for you.”

She can get very aggressive especially if she thinks you’re denying her advances

She won’t hurt you, beyond a little pinch or so, but she’ll make threats

She’s very sadistic and would be willing to lock you up

Having you as a pet is actually an attractive idea to her

She’ll take good care of you wherever you’re locked up, but she won’t allow many freedoms

“Look at my pretty pet. How lucky am I.”

The Captain:

He’s like a pet, always following you around

He’ll growl at people he doesn’t like around you

His arms are always around you, keeping you close

No one else is allowed to tend to you after missions

When he’s patching you up, he’ll run his hands along your arms and legs, lovingly caressing your limbs

He’ll use that as an excuse to stay around you

Popping in to “check on you” at all hours

You won’t even know he’s come in until he’s sitting on the edge of your bed

He’s the type the would sit there for a moment watching you breathe

If he can, he’ll try to get you to be his assistant

If he can convince the higher ups that he needs one, he’ll do whatever he can

Then he’ll be around you even when he works and will be able to protect you

No one on the battlefield will be able to even get close to you

He’ll ignore his own tasks to protect you

He’s extremely loyal and obsessive

The Doctor

Oh man it is terrifying when he has his eye on someone

He views it like just another experiment, wanting to test and push you

He’ll have you coming to him for “examinations” all the time

He’d likely put a bug on you

Suddenly he knows things you don’t remember telling him, but you can’t prove anything

People you like start disappearing, people you had no idea he knew about

If he suspects you’re starting to catch on and trying to get away, he’ll start drugging you

Then you’ll have to come to him if you’re going to get better

While he’s treating you, he’ll trick you mentally manipulating you to grow closer to him

You’re going to think so highly of him, forgetting all the red flags you’d seen before

He is absolutely a gas lighter but he’s damn good at it

Even if you have experience with this stuff you won’t pick up on it

It’s a game of cat and mouse with him

The Major

He is not subtle and does not care

Your needs or emotions don’t matter to him

If you don’t respond well to his advances he will make terrible threats

If that doesn’t work he’ll take it a step further, allowing the ghouls to get close to taking a bite out of you

Torture is the next step

He doesn’t care about your mood, he has to have you

“Y/N, why do you fight so hard when you know I’m just going to hurt you again?”

He’ll want to do most of it by hand, but if he needs to he will get the others involved

“Would you like me to make a spectacle out of you? I think the others would enjoy that.”

Behave and he won’t hurt you

If he gets mad enough he’ll remove your arms and legs

You’ll become his good little doll, always on display for him

Like a bird in a cage, you’re his favorite display item

#yandere #yandere behavior #integra hellsing x reader #integra x reader #walter x reader #walter c dornez x reader #seras x reader #seras victoria x reader #alucard x reader #jan valentine x reader #jan x reader #luke valentine x reader #luke x reader #rip van winkle x reader #rip x reader #the captain x reader #the doctor x reader #the major x reader

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solarwriting · 4 years ago

Text

guns and gifts

carl gallagher x fem!reader

request: Hey! I hope I can send you a request for Karl Gallagher of Shameless. Maybe Karl and y / n were a couple before jail, and after leaving jail he came to her to ask her for forgiveness. y / n doesn't forgive him and he starts giving her gifts and apologizing every day. Then everything is at your discretion. Happy ending please💛 from @powerpuffluuvv

genere: fluff + angst

word count: 2.1k

warnings: swearing, ooc carl

posted on april 18, 2021

puppy love. thirteen year-olds holding hands and sharing stolen kisses. it was a sweet relationship that could’ve grown and matured with the two teens as they did. instead carl found himself a job on the corner and when he got caught y/n was done. fiona tried to get through to the boy, asking him to apologize but he brushed her off.

“can i please just talk to him? maybe he’ll listen to me.” y/n pleaded with the lawyer.

fiona stepped in, “it wouldn’t hurt to try it.”

“five minutes.” the lawyer relented.

y/n thanked him and rushed into the room where he sat. he squinted at her through the glasses fiona gave him. “i’m not fuckin’ sorry. i wish i was smarter about it. i wouldn’t have used chuckie as a mule.”

“you know what. if you don’t tell that judge you’re fucking sorry and that you’ve learned from your mistakes i will never speak to you again.” y/n exited the room quickly letting the ultimatum hang in the air as the door slammed behind her.

during the hearing her eyes were trained on the back of his head, hoping she could somehow will him to do the right thing. she kept her arms crossed as she leaned back. kev and v were sat next to her, waiting anxiously to see what he’d say.

“i’m going to make juvie my bitch.” as soon as he said those words, y/n sighed, getting up from her seat, shouldering her back and slipping out of the courtroom as they hauled carl away. he caught her eye before she left, she froze for a moment before shaking her head and making her exit.

time passed and she still spent time with the rest of the gallaghers, she lived across the street so it would have been hard not too. she helped take care of liam when needed and she got a job at patsy’s with fiona’s help.

the day carl came back had been a surprise for everyone, y/n was helping fiona with making dinner after a shift at patsy’s. the front door had slammed shut and, thinking it was debbie, fiona asked if she got a message about hamburger buns. y/n’s eyes shot up when a much deeper voice responded, “nah, it’s just me.”

excited, fiona rushed towards the boy, wrapping him up in a hug. hugging back, he looked up throwing a wave to y/n who was rooted in place, “hey, y/n.”

snapping herself back into reality she lurched forward wiping her hands and grabbing her things, pulling her bag over her shoulder and gripping her keys tightly she looked back at the boy as fiona fussed over his new appearance. “fuck you, carl.” she spat, slamming the back door shut behind her.

y/n managed to avoid carl at school the next day, he was too busy with “his boy” nick and his new white boy carl personality and selling illegal weapons in the bathrooms to bother her anyways. she rushed to patsy’s as soon as school ended and began her shift.

she spent the afternoon rushing from table to table, taking orders, passing out food, and pouring coffee. she was pouring coffee for a couple sitting near the front door when the bell twinkled, signaling a new customer.

her back turned to the door and her focus pointed and the coffee she was pouring she greeted the customer quickly, “take a seat anywhere and i’ll be right with you darling.” she smiled at the couple before turning around, finding herself face to face with white boy carl himself. “get the fuck out.”

y/n rushed away from him, pouring coffee for a man sat at the counter. carl followed, “please just talk to me, y/n.”

“she doesn’t want to talk to you, man.” the customer spoke up as y/n placed the coffee pot on the burner.

“what the fuck did you just say to me?” carl asked the man.

he stood up, “i told you she doesn’t want to talk. so leave.”

y/n stepped in before a physical altercation broke out, “thank so much, sir, but i can fight my own battles.” she pushed carl towards the door, “out.” she kept pushing him despite his protests, “get the fuck out. go.”

the door slammed behind them, and carl began to speak, “no, you’re going to shut your fucking mouth and listen. i don’t want to listen to you. i don’t want to talk to you. and i don’t even want to see you but that last one might be a little fucking impossible since we’re neighbors and i work with your sister so i’m going to be civil towards you but i will only acknowledge your existence when it is absolutely necessary. clear?”

carl began to protest but y/n cut him off, “are we fucking clear?” carl grumbled an agreement and y/n sighed, “good, now get the fuck out if here. i have to go back to work.”

y/n rushed back into the diner, throwing herself back into work. hoping she looked busy enough to keep the nosy man from before to leave her alone, she poured more coffee, took orders, passed out plates. until her shift ended and she could finally take the l back home.

the next run in with carl happened two days later, she was walking home from school, thankful for the day off from work when carl and nick pulled up on a bike. “y/n! wait!”

sighing, y/n whipped around, “i thought i told you i didn’t want to talk to you.”

“i have something for you.” carl explained as he got closer, y/n ignored him and started walking again, the bike quickly catching up with her. “here.”

y/n scoffed, eyeing the bag, “whatever it is i don’t want it.”

“it’s a book, debbie told me you wanted to read it.”

y/n sped up, “no thanks, already read it.” she didn’t care what book it was, she didn’t want anything from him. she took this moment to cross the street, the passing cars making it difficult for the boys on the bike to follow.

she entered the gallagher house hoping carl would be too busy to come home for a few hours while she watched liam. “i get off at nine, if anyone else comes home you’re welcome to leave but i plan on bringing something back for dinner if you want to stick around for that.”

“of course i’ll stay. me and liam are going to have a great time. isn’t that right liam?” y/n asked the toddler who nodded enthusiastically. fiona thanked her and rushed out the door.

y/n put on a movie, which liam fell asleep watching about thirty minutes in. y/n got up and stretched when the movie ended, adjusting the blanket she threw over liam when he fell asleep. she walked in the kitchen, stiff from sitting for so long. she pulled out a can of pop from the fridge and leaned her back against the fridge, using to stretch her body more.

the door swung open and carl walked in, “good you’re hear, i have something else for you.”

“whatever it is, i don’t want it.” y/n sighed into her drink.

“it’s a necklace, here.” he opened the velvet box to show her an expensive looking necklace.

she turned away from him, “no thanks.” walking back into the living room. “go somewhere else please, i have to watch liam.”

carl sighed before exiting the house with nick, who had been hanging back by the door during the exchange. he nodded to nick and the two rolled out to go do god knows what.

that night fiona came home with food, the entire gallagher clan plus kev and v enjoyed. there were enough people that y/n managed to avoid speaking to carl the entire evening. every time he tried to speak to her she’d find someone to talk to, she talked lip about something she had to do for school, ian told her about trevor, and her and debbie talked about anything.

v even pointed out the strange behavior when carl was left looking slightly dejected to fiona, who just shrugged in response.

“thank you fiona, goodnight everyone.” y/n called as she stepped out the back door. she crossed the street quickly and made it home, which as usual was empty, the rest of her family nowhere to be found.

she sighed, grabbing a beer from the fridge and kicking of her shoes as soon as she made it to her room. she threw herself back on her bed yelping when she collided with something hard. she jumped up only to see the jewelry box and book carl had bought her. she set her beer down and pulled the box open, smiling at the necklace. it was gold, with a small tear shaped pendant that held some sort of crystal or diamond.

she set the box next to her beer, which she grabbed and took sip of as she grabbed the book. it was actually something she’d been wanting, she rolled her eyes before opening it to the first page.

the next fee days followed a similar pattern, carl would stop her at school and work and even his own house to offer her gifts, which she would refuse, which would always end up on her bed at the end of the day. on a particularly rough day, y/n had enough. she was walking home from school, carl (who was alone this time) behind her, like clockwork offering another gift.

“carl, please just leave me alone. i don’t have the energy to deal with you.” y/n said not stopping. carl made a comment and y/n snapped, “god i’m not going to forgive you because you chose to go to juvie. you could have just apologized and gotten parole but that didn’t happen. and i’m not going to be your girlfriend again because i don’t even know who you are any more, this thug personality doesn’t look good on you.” y/n sighed rushing away before he could answer.

she was suddenly thankful for the day off, deciding to spend it all alone at home. it was a friday and her weekend was also free so she spent the next few days home alone. her family was gone of course, they only only seemed to show up once a month just to leave again the same day.

sunday evening y/n laid in the couch watching what was on tv when there was a knock on the door. y/n groaned, getting up to answer it freezing when carl was revealed on the other side. he looked small, he was curled into himself and he looked sad. his braids were out, soft curls in the place. “hey, y/n.” he said softly. y/n wordlessly moved out of the way to let him in.

“i’m done. no more sell drugs, guns, anything. something happened, with nick and i don’t want that to be my life anymore.” his voice cracked and y/n instinctively wrapped him into a hug, squeezing protectively. he cried into her shoulder, holding her tightly, scared to let her go.

“hey,” y/n spoke softly, running her fingers through his hair, “you’re okay. i got you.” once carl calmed down, he pulled away but y/n held onto him, hands on his face.

“i really miss you y/n. and i know i was awful before but all i want to do is be with you. i love you.” he sighed, his hands holding her wrists.

y/n pulled him closer, “i love you, too, idiot.” carl gave her a lopsided smiled before surging forward to connect their lips in a hot kiss. y/n stumbled backwards before backing into the wall behind her. carl bit on her lip softly causing her breath to catch in her throat. she tugged on his hair and he squeezed her hips. she pulled away for breath, pressing her forehead to his, “my room?” breathless carl nodded pressing a quick kiss to her lips before they rushed to her room.

the next morning the front door slammed opened, “y/n! i’m going to kill fiona!” debbie stormed through the house bursting into y/n’s room where she was laying next to a topless carl, wearing only his t-shirt, “oh my god! ew!” debbie shielded her eyes from the sight before her.

“hey, debs.” y/n mumbled, sheepishly.

debbie groaned, “just get dressed, we have school.”

#carl gallagher imagine #carl gallagher #shameless x reader #shameless fanfiction #shameless imagine #shameless #lip gallagher #fiona gallagher #debbie gallagher #ian gallagher #kev ball #veronica ball #veronica fisher #2k words

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tickle-bugs · 3 years ago

Text

Trick Foot

Based on the events of C1 episode 8! Liam said Vax was ticklish and later said Vax giggle-snorts and well. I had to do something about that. Wrote this in fifteen minutes like a man possessed and did not proofread it. Enjoy!

“Pike, we can talk about this.” Vax holds his hands out in front of him, a smile wobbling on his lips.

“I would love to.” Pike’s grin is absolutely devilish. Shed of her armor, she perches upon Vax’s calf, hands glowing with gentle divine light.

“This doesn’t seem like—mmph!—good healing practice!”

“Stop questioning Pike and start staying still.” Vex scribbles her nails up his other foot before disappearing out of their little alcove, still searching for Grog with her Hunter’s Mark.

“I still can’t believe you’re ticklish.” Pike takes gentle grasp of his injured foot again, dragging unbearably light fingertips to restore the melted flesh to its full capacity. Vax flinches hard, burying his smile into a white-knuckle fist. Pike pauses again.

“I, for one, am grateful. It’s rather effective pest control.” Percy grins where he’s cleaning his guns, glasses glinting mischievously in the light of the campfire. Vax sticks out his tongue.

“Well, Percival—“

Vax’s remark is cut short by his own squeal as he crumples. Pike readjusts her iron grip to account for his squirming legs. He reaches up for her, squinting through mirthful eyes, but her knuckles raking rapidly across his foot send him crashing back down. She scratches with gentle, evil fingers, and the scarred bits of flesh flake away to reveal new skin underneath.

He lets loose a slew of syllables and half-baked pleas, drumming his heels into the makeshift-cushion beneath them. Her raw power would be decidedly awesome if it didn’t tickle like hell.

“Does this one have a volume dial?” Percy sighs, strapping Bad News back into its holster.

“Sorry.” Pike doesn’t sound the least bit remorseful. “It’s gonna take a while.”

“Oh nohoho,” Vax whines, trying to yank his foot away, but Pike is strong—stronger than he gives her credit for. She starts pinching at the remains of his little toe, sculpting it back into shape like a sad lump of clay.

“Say, Pike, do you require assistance? Wouldn’t want you to bear the terrible burden of healing alone.” Percy saunters over and stretches, the perfect picture of bullshit nonchalance.

“Oh, no I’m—“ Pike looks down at Vax, then Percy’s wicked grin, then understands— “I would love some assistance.”

“Perfect.” He promptly takes a seat by Pike.

“No, nonono, stay away assface—“

Percy grabs hold of Vax’s good foot, the perfectly fine one that doesn’t need healing, and pulls it into his lap. Vax tries to bring it down on Percy’s groin, but his grip is far too solid.

Percy scribbles his fingers curiously over Vax’s foot. Vax giggle-snorts and curls his toes, ignoring the light sting emanating from his damaged foot.

“Oh, now that’s adorable.” Percy actually beams, just endearing enough to earn a tease, but Percy quickly divests him of his ability to speak with fingers worming beneath his toes.

Vax clamps his arms across his torso and gives his most convincing impression of a worm. Percy’s calloused hands are almost worse than Pike’s, gods above. He arches his back and tosses his head, dark hair falling loose from its ponytail.

“T-Tickles!” Is all Vax can manage through a squeak, kicking hard under their grip. He manages to squirm away, but Pike and Percy reel him back in with ease.

“Like herding cats, this one.” Percy bumps Pike’s shoulder.

“You’re telling me. He kicked me earlier.” Pike grumbles, wiggling her fingers a little more than necessary for a brief moment. Vax bucks and almost catches her jaw again.

“Vax’ildan,” Percy mock-gasps, stilling his fingers enough for Vax to speak.

“I said s-sorry!” His voice landed somewhere shrill long ago and can’t seem to drop to its usual octave.

“So ungrateful for our wonderful Cleric here.” Percy kneads into his calf, which is illegal on all counts, and Vax shrieks with all his might.

Pike’s hands continue their dastardly work, scritching at a spot just beneath his toes that coaxes more snorts from him. Percy travels upwards towards his knee, the bastard, and Vax manages to knee him in the chin. Accidentally, of course.

“Aaand, done!” Pike releases him with a flourish and a proud grin. Vax instantly reels his legs close to his body, residual giggles rising out in waves. Percy chases the retreating limbs with deft fingers, then reaches up to cradle his jaw.

“Next time, we should make more progress. This was a good start.” Pike’s hands flare quickly as she brushes them off.

“Next time?” Vax’s voice breaks.

“Oh, yeah. You’re good to go for now, but we’ll have to keep tending to this. The last thing you need right now is an infection.” Pike stands and cracks her back.

“You’ll be the death of me, both of you.” Vax rubs a hand over his face, a few chuckles bubbling out. Pike tucks the stray hair behind his ears, which would’ve been sweet if Vax didn’t immediately crumple into laughter again.

“Better us than anything else.” Percy claps Vax’s still-shaking shoulder. “Get some rest, Giggles.”

“Sleep with one eye open.” Vax narrows his eyes at Percy as he retreats to his makeshift workstation.

#my fics #bug’s greatest hits #first c1 fic woohoo #critical role #vox machina #ticklish!vax #vax'ildan #percival de rolo #pike trickfoot #vex is here but im not tagging her #i am in love with liam's characters especially this sneaky goof #and i can hardly resist canon tickles #dont normally like foot-stuff but like. it's right there. i had to #vax my love

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seijorhi · 4 years ago

Text

Patience of a Saint

An Ushijima x virgin reader commission for the wonderful @hearteyes-candyskies, I hope you enjoy it, bby! 💕

Ushijima Wakatoshi x female reader

TW non-con, nsfw, smut, virgin reader

“Wait, you’re kidding me, right?”

Ushijima simply shrugs, “Why would I joke about something like that?”

Semi and Tendou share a glance, the former hiding a smirk behind the glass rim of his beer bottle. Tendou had been the one to drag them both downtown for ramen in the middle of the night, an impromptu reunion of sorts, now that the volleyball season had wrapped up and Tendou was back in Sendai.

Perhaps his first mistake had been to allow his friend the option to stay with him instead of booking a hotel. Though, truth be told, Tendou would have undoubtedly monopolised his time regardless of where he was staying, and Ushijima would have allowed him to.

They were friends, after all, and that was what friends did. He was just glad that Semi had been roped in alongside him.

When and how the conversation had steered towards his relationship with you, more specifically the details regarding your bedroom exploits together, Ushijima isn’t entirely sure, but he has no reason to lie to his friends.

The disbelieving look on Tendou’s face, however, makes him wonder if he’s said something wrong. “You mean to tell me that you’ve been dating this girl for how many months now, and you haven’t actually slept together yet?”

At that, Ushijima shakes his head. “We’ve slept together,” he corrects, taking a sip of his own beer. He likes sleeping with you, finds an odd sense of comfort he’s never felt before, waking up to find you curled against his side.

Most mornings Ushijima has no trouble getting out of bed for an early start. He’s found that lately, at least on the nights you stay over, that’s no longer the case.

The snort from his right is abruptly cut off into a choking cough as Semi tries and fails to mask his amusement. “He means sex, dude. You haven’t fucked her yet, have you?”

“No.”

The loud cackles from the ex-middle blocker are enough to draw the attention of several other patrons, but Tendou pays them no mind. “Why the hell not? Is she hideously ugly or something?”

“Nope,” Semi answers in his stead, a little too quickly for Ushijima’s liking. But he supposes he cannot blame his friend for noticing your attractiveness. You are, of course, beautiful - he’s told you many times.

A lone, red eyebrow quirks, glittering amusement dancing across Tendou’s face, “Are you… are you having trouble performing, big guy?”

Semi almost chokes on his mouthful, and even Ushijima feels the tips of his ears flush red. “No,” he asserts with a frown. “She…” he pauses, unsure for the first time whether this might be a line that he’s crossing to reveal something so personal between the two of you.

It’s not like he hasn’t discussed sex with them before. He has an almost uncomfortable amount of knowledge regarding the girls the redhead has been with, and Semi is no better.

(Semi was actually far, far worse.)

And truth be told he’s never been shy to share his own exploits with his friends, either. You might be the first girl that Ushijima’s ever loved, but love is not a necessary requirement for sex. He ensured that his partners left satisfied and so did he, there wasn’t anything more to it than that.

But you mean something to him. You mean everything.

“She… wants to wait,” he says quietly. “She’s-”

Tendou’s red eyes widen, his face transforming into an expression of delighted surprise as he puts it all together. “She’s a virgin?!”

“Hey, dumbass,” Semi grunts, smacking his old friend over the back of his head, “you wanna say that a little louder? I don’t think the entire restaurant heard you.”

Tendou waves off his admonishment with a flick of his wrist, his attention firmly fixed on the ace. “So I was right then? You found yourself a cute, innocent little virgin for a girlfriend?”

Ushijima doesn’t reply, he doesn’t need to.

He can still remember the scared look on your face the first time you stopped him, the way your hands shook and your pretty eyes filled with tears as you explained. Did you truly believe he would leave you over something as simple as that?

While he might have been… somewhat disappointed, he understood. He loves you, he’s known that for a while. He could be patient, wait for you to become accustomed to him, wait for you to get over your fears and apprehension.

Not that you make it easy for him. He knows you aren’t teasing him on purpose with low cut dresses and too short skirts, cuddling close in bed at night just so you can grind your ass against the swell of his cock, you’re too innocent for such things.

But that doesn’t make it any easier to ignore the heat that pools in his gut, the stirrings of desire and twitch of his cock every time you bend over in front of him and he’s rewarded with a perfect view. He’s lost count of the number of times he’s had to excuse himself to the bathroom, bracing himself against the wall, bent over and fisting his cock to the mental image of you spread out naked, desperate and begging before him.

“Wait, wait, hold up. I’m still a bit ticked off that you’ve been dating this girl for months and managed to hide her from me, your very best friend. I wanna see pics!”

Ushijima exhales, “You will meet her tomorrow-”

But it’s a fruitless endeavour, as Semi’s already scrolling through his phone to pull up your social media. Dutifully he passes it across the table, and Ushijima can only watch as Tendou’s eyes widen and a wicked grin creeps across his face.

“You, my big, beautiful, brawny friend, have the patience of a saint. My condolences.”

—

He meets you the very next day, and there’s a strange feeling in Ushijima’s chest as he watches you collapse into a fit of giggles at Tendou’s joke, the redhead’s arm slung casually over your shoulders.

He’s pleased that you get along with his old friends, it’s not something he’s ever had to concern himself with with his previous partners. They were nothing more than blips on a radar - not necessarily one night stands, but hardly worth introducing to the people who matter most to Ushijima.

Yet he can’t help but linger on Tendou’s comment from the night before.

You hadn’t told him that you were waiting for marriage. It wasn’t a religious vow you’d taken. It was just that you weren’t ready for sex yet. You asked for time.

And he’d understood. Your relationship was new, and he supposed that for your first time he was perhaps intimidating. You were shy. Nervous.

It was to be expected.

But hasn’t he proven by now that he can be gentle? That he loves you, and he has absolutely no intention of leaving you? You’re the only one he wants to be with - the only one he’ll ever want to be with. If you’re waiting for the right ‘one’ to lose your virginity to, what more does he have to do to convince you that he’s it?

Which makes him consider, watching you smile at him as you duck into his kitchen to grab some more snacks, whether you might not be as invested in this relationship as he is.

He doesn’t doubt that you love him, but even as you sidle up beside him, letting him tuck you to his side where you belong, he can’t help but question whether the true reason you haven’t allowed him to take you as he wants is because you’re still under the assumption that your relationship has an expiration date.

The thought doesn’t sit well with him.

Sex is separate from love, Ushijima knows that, but he’s also firmly of the belief that it can be an act of intimacy, an expression of love deeper than words or other actions can convey. He wants to feel that with you.

He wants to watch you writhing beneath him, your pussy squeezing around his cock, milking it for all it’s worth, lost in the ecstasy that only he can bring you.

He wants to know what sounds you’ll make, what pretty moans and gasps he can draw out from you as he fucks you within an inch of your sanity.

He wants to look in your eyes the first time he makes you cum, wants to take his time, to kiss you slowly, baptise you in pleasure and watch as you surrender yourself completely to the love he has for you.

Ushijima doesn’t have time to waste on romantic flings and relationships that will go nowhere. You are his future, so it does not make sense for you to keep holding yourself back where sex is concerned.

The sound of your laugh breaks through Ushijima’s musing and he’s pulled back to the present as you recount the story of how the two of you met to the redhead. He’s told Tendou before, but somehow the way you tell it made it sound better. You paint him in a better light, make yourself out to be the awkward one, stumbling over your apologies when it was his fault that you’d tripped in the first place.

You don’t have a clue about the weeks leading up to that moment, but it hardly matters. He’s content merely just to listen as you speak, your cheeks warming, long lashes fluttering as you glance up at him with that gentle smile of yours.

He loves you.

Across from the both of you, he catches the pointed look in Tendou’s eye-

It will be good for the both of you.

-and comes to a decision.

Unsurprisingly, the redhead just grins brightly when Ushijima corners him shortly afterwards, telling him that he will have to find somewhere else to stay for the night.

“No worries, I can crash at Semisemi’s,” he sings, rocking up onto the balls of his feet. “You two need your space, I get that.”

Ushijima nods, turning to leave, only for Tendou to reach out and stop him. “Yes?”

“You know, I kinda like her, Ushiwaka. Think she’ll be good for you, so try not to break her in two tonight, yeah?”

He frowns at the comment, causing Tendou to break into a fit of laughter.

By now, he should be used to his friend’s ribbing, but the thought of hurting you even as a joke doesn’t sit well with the ace.

To his credit, Tendou plays his role well. You all but beg him to stay for dinner, but he just mournfully shakes his head, sighing about Eita twisting his arm and forcing him to go watch him and his band play at some local bar.

And then, it’s just the two of you.

In hindsight, perhaps he should have put more effort into making this romantic for you. He’s never had to try with things like that before. He should have cooked dinner, and maybe considered candles and roses, or even music.

Instead, you order takeout and eat it sprawled across Ushijima’s lap, and he cannot find it within himself to mind. The most mundane activities are made better simply for you being by his side, he’s found.

He waits, fingers casually stroking along your arm as you curl up to his side to watch something on TV. You seem to be enjoying it, if the giggles that spill from your lips are anything to go by, but Ushijima finds himself distracted by the gnawing feeling deep in the pit of his stomach, an eagerness that has him twitching to act.

It doesn’t help that he’s all too aware of the softness of your body pressing against his.

But he won’t have your first time together be on his living room couch, of all places. He has enough patience to wait for weariness to set in, and when you yawn trying to muffle it against his shoulder, Ushijima almost smiles. “Why don’t we go to bed?”

You nod, and he presses a gentle kiss to your hair before helping you up.

He knows that you like to shower before sleeping, and while there’s a voice in his head that whispers for him to go and join you, Ushijima simply strips out of his clothes, sits on the edge of his bed and waits.

When you emerge from the steam, smelling faintly of the vanilla and citrus body wash he’d bought after the first night you’d stayed over, he stiffens. Instead of your usual sleeping attire (an old tee-shirt and a pair of sleep shorts) you’re clad solely in one of his fluffy towels, hair still damp, skin glistening with stray droplets of water.

“Hey, sorry I forgot my-” you pause, words trailing off as you take in the sight of your boyfriend, utterly naked. For a split second, you freeze in place, eyes wide and lips softly parted, like a deer caught in headlights.

And then, just as Ushijima moves to stand, you snap out of it.

“Oh my god!” you cry, whirling around and clutching the knot of your towel, hiding yourself from his view and burying your face in your hands. “I-I’m sorry!”

It’s rather adorable how flustered you get by something as natural as nakedness.

“Why wou- you know what, nevermind. I…uh, I forgot my clothes, they’re just on my bag I think, could you, um- could you please pass them to me?”

He spies them, folded neatly on the top of the overnight bag you’d packed. Instead, he reaches out to take your hand and gently tug you back towards him.

“Wakatoshi, what are you-” but your surprised protests are swallowed up as he leans down to kiss you. Yet instead of softening to his touch, allowing him to take the lead as he usually does, you stiffen in his arms, your hands finding their way to his bare chest, trying to push him away.

“Toshi, just- just stop for a second, please?” you gasp, managing to extricate yourself from the kiss.

That won’t do.

He has to be gentle with you, but with anticipation coiling in his gut, his cock stirring at the thought of your almost naked body pressed against his, it’s easy for him to forget his strength as he rids you of the offending material, bends down and hefts you up into his arms.

“Shh, little one,” he says, ignoring your shouts as he takes the three steps over to his bed so he can lay you down. “I know you’re scared, but you have no need to be. I won’t hurt you. I’m going to make us both feel good, I promise.”

He bestows another kiss against your forehead as he climbs over your trembling frame.

“Babe… Toshi, please- I-I’m not, I don’t-” your eyes are wide and filling with tears and you’re shaking your head - it fills him with a flicker of unease, but he knows deep down that this is just temporary.

You need this as much as he does, and once he shows you how wonderful he can make you feel, you’ll thank him.

Cradling your cheek with one large hand, he tries to tell you as much.

But your breath is coming in quick pants, your terrified eyes darting past his broad frame as if you’re trying to look for an escape route while pleas and whimpers spill almost incoherently from your lips, and he realises that words won’t be enough.

He’ll just have to show you.

“I love you,” he murmurs, kissing you once more before turning his attention to the rest of your body. It’s not the first time he’s seen you bared, of course, but it is the first time he’s been allowed the luxury of taking his time to enjoy it.

Your whimpers are soft and distressed as his lips trail down the column of your throat, resisting the urge to nip and suck at the tender skin, and you squirm under him when his mouth finds your breasts. The sounds you make for him, your choked little gasps only feed the pit of hunger deep inside of him. You must be able to feel his cock, big and thick, rutting up against your stomach, leaving a shining trail of oozing pre-cum across your skin as he busies himself playing with your tits.

They’re soft and pillowy, just the perfect size for his hands to grasp and knead, and the way that you keen for him, jerking a little when he sucks a nipple into his mouth and laves his tongue over the pebbling bud is utterly captivating. You’re so caught up in the attention he’s paying to your chest that you miss the hand that trails down your side, snaking between your trembling thighs.

At least until long, thick digits swipe along your folds.

Like a frightened little rabbit, your eyes widen and you jolt into action. “Wakatoshi, stop!” you cry, hands finding his chest once more to try and push him off of you, your legs kicking out uselessly beneath him.

His expression softens, his thumb sweeping against your thigh in what he hopes is a reassuring manner. “Shh, it’s okay. I need to prepare you to take me, otherwise it will hurt.”

If anything, your expression only becomes more panicked. “No, no, no, no-”

“Let me take care of my girl. You’ll feel good,” he murmurs, and already his fingers are sliding back to your pussy. You’re not as wet as he’d like, but it’s no matter, as his thumb finds your clit, his other fingers returning to tease at your entrance.

The soft little moan you try and fail to bite back as one finger slides inside of you sends a rush of blood straight to his cock. It twitches and throbs, aching for relief and perhaps if you were anybody else, he might throw caution to the wind and fuck you right then and there, regardless of whether you were ready or not.

But as you shiver, gasping as he curls the thick digit inside of you, he’s reminded that he needs to have patience. You are not worth rushing, and despite the feral beast inside of him that’s snapping and snarling to sink into your heat, he wants to savour this.

You only get one first time, and he’s determined to make yours unforgettable.

“That’s just one finger,” he tells you, his thumb circling your clit in slow, steady movements. “You’re going to take three before I can fuck you properly, understand?”

He doesn’t want to break you in half, after all.

You still writhe beneath him, shaking and jolting as he teases your shining pearl and coaxes your pussy into accepting another finger, and when he lowers his mouth back to your tits to add to the pleasure building inside of you, a sob bursts free.

“Please- please, Toshi!”

A third finger prods at your entrance-

“Please don’t!”

He almost winces at the sharp hiss of pain that escapes you, but he reassures himself that it will only be for a moment. The stretch and burn will give way to pleasure as he fucks them into you slowly. Your pussy is so warm, so tight, sucking the digits in deeper and when rough fingertips brush against a particular spot on your walls and you cry out, Ushijima allows a small, adoring smile to cross his face.

“Good girl,” he purrs, quickening his pace.

You’ve always been so beautiful to him, but when you cum for him that first time, face flushed and dewy, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you try not to scream in pleasure, he doesn’t think there’s anything on earth that could possibly compare.

The same could be said about the way you taste, he thinks, greedily sucking your juices off of his fingers.

“Wakatoshi,” you beg, lying spent across his bed still reeling from the afterglow of your orgasm as he slides your thighs further apart so he can settle between them. He grunts a little as he wraps his hand around his flushed cock and guides it to your sopping entrance, marvelling at the way you shiver and mewl when he nudges it against your oversensitive clit.

Olive eyes find yours, and he cannot resist leaning down to claim your lips once more as he sinks slowly inside of you.

The sound that escapes him is deep and guttural, but the feel of your warm pussy clenching around his throbbing cock is simply heaven, and he almost - almost - loses control.

Forcing his eyes open, he watches your face as you take his cock, feeling every vein and ridge stretch you out, the pained whimpers that slip from behind clenched teeth. He knows that he’s bigger than average, that his girth is impressive and that even with his foreplay you’re still squeezing around him like a vice, but he forces himself to take it slow, to allow you the time to adjust.

He almost starts when you reach out to grab him, fingers painfully sinking into the muscles of his forearm as you fight off another wave of tears, so he pauses for a beat, peppering your face with more kisses. “You’re doing so well for me, such a good girl.”

When your grip eases, he resumes moving, drawing his hips back and trying not to curse at the friction your slick walls are creating.

“I love you,” he grunts, “so much.”

And then he rocks his hips forward - steadily, filling you up again, allowing you to get used to his girth. He kisses you, trails rough fingertips gently along your skin, teases you finding all the sensitive spots that make you moan for him.

Gradually, he feels you relax around him.

The obscene sounds of his cock sliding in and out of you, the rhythmic slap of skin against skin is drowned out by your soft whines and pants as Ushijima slowly picks up the pace. He fucks you deeply, but not roughly, taking care not to hurt you anymore than necessary.

It’s slow and sensual - your body can’t help but respond to his ministrations, and when you clench around him, sucking him deeper Ushijima can’t help but groan, feeling the tight coil of heat in his core burn as pleasure ripples through him.

He wants more. Needs it.

Ushijima’s hands wrap around your thighs, easing them back towards your chest so that your ankles fall over his broad shoulders. He kisses at your calf when confusion flickers across your face, but doesn’t offer any explanation as he snaps his hips forward once more. The choked scream that leaves your lips is beautiful, but he can barely focus on that when he finally bottoms out, his balls slapping against your ass as another hoarse groan leaves him.

He promised himself that he would be gentle with you, but as your velvety walls quiver and convulse around him and your lips fall open in another soundless scream as your second orgasm hits, he’s not entirely sure that he’ll be able to keep that promise.

There’s a tightening in his balls and he can feel the tether he has on his control fraying little by little as you moan for him, your hips rocking up to meet his fervent thrusts. You’re beautiful, perfect, and he’s losing himself to the feeling of being buried inside of you. It’s indescribable, the way your pussy’s fluttering around him, clenching and pulsing, kissing his cock with sweltering heat - it feels like the very edges of his sanity are blurring as he fucks himself deeper inside of you, his cockhead hitting your cervix with every thrust. He wants to cum, wants to fill you up with his thick load again and again and again, wants you so full it’s leaking out of you-

It won’t be enough, it’ll never be enough.

He loves you, and Ushijima won’t ever be satisfied again without the feeling of your pussy wrapped around him, milking him for every drop that he’s worth.

#yandere haikyuu #yandere ushijima wakatoshi #yandere ushijima x reader #yandere ushijima #yandere ushijima wakatoshi x reader #tw non con #virgin reader

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fyeahiwatarikei · 2 years ago

Note

Belledonna and the inspector's wife

Flower Language Writing Prompts

Belladonna ◦ A confession given without words

“Listen…”

She pressed a tissue against her lip, removing invisible sauce from what remained of the heavy lipstick, and folded it back into her pocket, before shutting the small, now empty cardboard box back into its original shape.

“You bring me to museums, we go to fancy places, we eat fancy food… Don’t get me wrong: it’s fun! But in the end, it’s not really what I am. Do you understand?”

A corner of Kei’s lips turned into a slightly mocking smile. Had she taken his refusal to have takeout that badly? Sometimes in the life of a man, hunger simply didn’t manifest.

“You know what you need, Hiwatari? A cute girl, slightly younger than you; the type who’d like shiny jewellery and would cling to your arm when you go see all these persons you go see. Listen…” She gently tapped his shoulder in an almost soothing gesture. “I’m an old woman. I’m not what you need, okay?”

A cute girl…? This had never been an option. Kei had sometimes wondered if his job would require him to marry someone, but years had passed without any pressing question, his secretive behaviour probably defusing any curiosity.

Saehara Ayane couldn’t guess his true feelings and, to be fair, chances were that she wouldn’t care either way. He couldn’t blame her, but a few corrections were becoming necessary.

He closed the distance between them, sitting where he could easily catch the box from her hands to put it on the side where it wouldn’t bother – but still far enough to not touch her leg. Passersby paid them no mind, thankfully. The moment would have been absolutely disastrous for someone he knew to approach and greet him.

“Saehara-san, I am not spending evenings with you because I need you, and even less because I need company for my “fancy” activities, like you said. All I’m offering is time.”

“I know, I know!” She waved in the air, brushing the arguments off. Her hands often gestured like this, for a mysterious reason. “But I’m not too much into reading, attending exhibits and looking at fireworks from afar. I’m not like you.”

That was absolutely certain. She was a mischievous delight of energy and free will, to the point this serious rejection almost seemed out of character. He couldn’t imagine the amount of control and politeness she was summoning to avoid any word like “boring”, “snob” or “I’m a married woman and you’re honestly not that hot.”

As much as she couldn’t imagine how her arguments failed to move him. She didn’t enjoy art? He’d recover.

“I don’t want someone like me, Saehara-san.”

His hand found hers, fingers closed around it, and her severe expression trembled, this time troubled.

“I want someone who interests me, you see?”

Faded lipstick almost parted to say something, but silence went on as he lifted her hand to his lips and left a single, short kiss somewhere between the index and middle finger. The air of this february evening had turned them cold; letting them go would have been cruel.

Thus, he gathered her hands together between his, where they could remain warm, cosy and, hopefully, cherished.

“You’re a fool,” she finally gasped. Yet her cheeks had turned crimson.

#mine #ask #fanfiction #lady #2023 valentine #The one prompt that made me consider evenings of scenarios #What a challenge!#Yet I'm delighted to write about my Valentine Pair #Thank you!

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donald4spiderman · 4 years ago

Text

The City

masterlist

Summary: Reader is thinking about moving to California. Spencer’s determined to get her to stay.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAU!Fem!Reader

Warnings: none

Category: Fluff (angst if you squint)

**Inspired by Ben’s poetic confession in Parks and Recreations, S3E14**

Here’s a draft i forgot to post

**not edited yet**

Spencer’s POV

As a profiler, I’ve mastered the observation and analysis of behavior— we all have.

Picking the minds of serial killers is second nature— so why is it so hard for me to figure out why (Y/N) is behaving so strangely?

In the recent months, her witty and charming energy has dwindled into a lethargic imitation. Whether she’d admit it or not— (Y/N) can be extremely enthusiastic about certain things— especially our job.

So, when I watch her drag her feet, inch by inch, into the BAU each morning, It’s hard to contain my concern.

I know Morgan has noticed, and I’m sure everyone else has too. They’re probably just too scared to say anything. (Y/N) doesn’t enjoy people prying into her private life, so we all stay a comfortable distance away.

I watch her a lot... more than I’d like to admit. It’s hard to be unaware of her nervous behaviors— the nail biting, hair twisting, skin picking— I practically have enough data to make a correlation graph. I can tell when she’s upset, and it’s happening more than usual.

(Y/N) has always been kind to me. Even when I was at the peak of my stammering, slicked-back hair phase, she treated me with more respect than I deserved. I can only imagine how awkward I must’ve been (or, still am), and I thank her for not belittling me.

I guess I’m validating the Benjamin Franklin Effect when I say this— but I feel like I owe it to her to ask what’s wrong. Over the years I’ve built up (arguably) the closest friendship with her, so it only makes sense for me to bite the bullet for the team.

It’s partially due to the fact that I’ve developed a slight (if not major) crush over time, but who wouldn’t? A gorgeous, intelligent, quick-witted women is kryptonite for any person. Our conversations are always stimulating, she gives the best advice, and she’s always there to comfort a team member.

So, it pains me to see her struggle through a paperwork day. I wish she would reach out to anyone for help, but it’s not in her nature.

“H-Hi.” I smile as I approach her desk. Her tired eyes look up at me, and she smiles back.

“Hey, Reid. What’s up?

I rub the back of my neck nervously. Out of the corner of my eye I can see Morgan and Emily watching me struggle to form a sentence. They giggle as they watch.

“I-I was... um. D-do you want to get coffee with m-me? Not now! I mean— after work!” Morgan stumbles out of the bullpen, barely containing his laugh. I must sound pathetic.

(Y/N) nods hesitantly, “S-sure. I don’t know why you want to get coffee with me, but I’m free.”

“Really?” My surprise shocks her. “T-that’s gr-great! I can drive you!”

She chuckled, “I think I’d rather drive us. I’m pretty sure you can’t drive a mile without hitting a curb.”

I nod fervently. “Sounds good.”

As I make my way back to my desk, I send a glare in Emily’s direction as she continues to smirk at me.

(Y/N) grabs an empty table in the café, and we sit down, huddling close to our warm drinks. She orders a cinnamon latte, I order a black coffee with an unhealthy amount of sugar.

I place the drinks down. “Did you know that cinnamon is shown to reduce systolic blood pressure. It’s commonly used in South Asia and works by dilating blood vessel.”

She nods, “Surprisingly, I did know that. You’re gonna have to teach me something else, Doc.” I laugh in response, enjoying the relaxation that radiates off of her.

“I feel like we don’t get to, um, t-talk as much as I would like to.” My words get caught in my throat and she gives me a lopsided smile.

“Well, we don’t exactly have the most leisurely job.” She states, sipping her drink.

I bite my lip, she looks down. I convince myself that my mind is playing tricks on me, because there’s no way (Y/N) would glance down to watch me pull my bottom lip between my teeth.

“I know... but you used to talk more.”

“I’ve been busy lately. Tired too.” She mumbles.

I mean forward slightly, my voice is a hushed whisper. “A-are you... okay?” I’m anticipating an defensive response, but all she does is sigh.

“I’m alright. I just... I’m getting tired of being here— in D.C.”

My eyes widen and my brows knit together. “W-What! Why?”

(Y/N) shrugs, “I don’t know. I just expected to feel... really, really attached to D.C when I first moved here. I love my job, and I love you guys— but nothing’s keeping me here.”

My face drops. My disappointment is adamant because she scrambles to reassure me.

“It’s not that I don’t absolutely love working with you guys. You’re my best friend, Spencer. But... I came to D.C to... I don’t know... settle down.” It comes out as more of a question rather a statement. “It’s sounds weird, right? Me, settling down?” She laughs. “I-I don’t mean a husband and a family necessarily. I moved here because I wanted to belong somewhere.”

“You don’t feel like you belong?”

“I feel... I feel like everything I have right now is temporary. It’s not the feeling I expected to have. I just want to have something permanent in my life for once.”

I remain silent, lacking the proper response.

“Please don’t tell anyone!” She pleaded.

I smile solemnly, “I won’t. I promise.”

In that moment, I make another promise. Not just to (Y/N), but to myself. I’m going to show her how many things she has here for her in D.C.

I’m going to prove how much I believe she belongs.

I started by bringing her coffee each morning— a cinnamon latte from the same café we went to.

The first time she seemed pleasantly surprised. I sped through the doors of the bullpen, my coat and slacks absolutely soaked due to the rainy D.C weather. She giggled at the sight of my hair plastered to my forehead. I was certain that I looked like a wet dog.

“Morning!” I greeted, placing down both cups of coffee on her desk so I could fix my hair. “I-uh-I got you coffee. A cinnamon latte, of course.”

(Y/N) smiles brightly, “You’re the best. Thanks, Reid. I definitely needed this.”

Hotch and Rossi are watching me curiously, pretending not to look up from their files. At this moment, I could care less.

“It’s n-nothing.” Suddenly I’m blushing furiously under the weight of her stare.

“Thanks, again.” She clears her throat, “Y-you’re a really good friend.”

She smiles. And I smile.

In the next three weeks, (Y/N) and I grow closer at a rate faster then ever. I try to do something small for her everyday. Finishing up a file for her; Bringing her coffee or water; Sitting next to her on the jet. It appears to be working— she looks much more relaxed and happy. Her sarcastic humor is back and she engages more with the team.

We’ve decided to hang out after today. I find myself enjoying every minute with her, even if all we do is talk, eat, and walk around aimlessly. I’m sure she’s tired of me, but my infatuation with her only grows.

Tonight, we’re sitting at the park, watching people on their late night jogs, dog walkers, babysitters. We finished eating Indian food at a local restaurant. Turns out we’re both regulars at the same place, it’s a shame we haven’t run into each other.

She’s sitting criss-cross on the bench, her elbow rested on top of her knee. “You know,” She starts, “D.C is pretty great. I don’t think I’ve felt this... content in a while.”

I smile, even if it’s too dark for her to see. “Th-thanks. D.C is a great place, despite averaging 39 inches of rain annually.”

She means her head back against the bench. “I still don’t know. I feel like I’m just waiting for something. I don’t even know what that something is... a sign maybe?”

“A sign?” I laugh.

“Y-yeah... a sign. I’d usually make a pros and cons list and research the differences between the two places but... this decision feels too personal to look at it as just statistics.”

In this very moment, I decide to toss all my concerns, questions, what if’s, into the wind. This is my final move; my last resort; my Hail Mary.

My hands are trembling, and it takes me seconds to force the words out of my throat.

“W-well, besides the higher cost of living and considerably gloomy weather, D.C can be a p-pretty great place to reside. It has a busy political culture and is one of the most diverse states in the country.” I pause for a little longer than necessary.

“But, besides statistics and facts, if w-we look past objectivity, to me: D.C is where my friends are, and my friends are my family. Um... I like The City because it’s home to so many great people. A-and I know it’s hard to see the good in things considering how much violence we see on a daily basis, but certain people make me believe that things aren’t all that bad.”

(Y/N)‘a listening attentively, making me even more nervous than I thought possible. “D.C— The City— is beautiful. It’s charming. It’s a warm, cinnamon latte on a rainy day, o-or a late night walk in the park. To me, it’s home.” I catch her smirking a little bit, and I can only hope that she understands what I’m trying to say.

“Plus, The City is really good at her job. The City’s an excellent profiler. But, the city’s an even better friend, and an even better person. It doesn’t hurt that The City has great hair, and gorgeous eyes, and a perfect smile. And, she does this cute thing where she twists the ends of her hair, even if I keep telling her to stop. The City’s beautiful and definitely out of my league. She probably wants nothing to with me now, but I don’t care. I really like The City. And, even if she doesn’t like me back, she should stay, because there are so many people that like and love The City. ‘Cause who wouldn’t.”

(Y/N) is full on grinning right now, and it’s hard to stay patient when so much is on the line.

“Wow.” She giggles. “You really like The City.”

I chuckled awkwardly, “Y-yeah. I really do.”

“I mean, if you think The City’s so great, maybe I should stay. Plus, I’m sure The City likes you too.”

I feign confusion, “Really? I don’t know... The City can be kind of closed off sometimes.”

“Trust me— The City definitely likes you back. And I don’t think The City appreciates you saying that about her”

“Oh really?” I gasp. “Let’s ask her.”

I turn my head around, then proceed to look back at (Y/N) in the most dramatic fashion.

“Hey.” I laugh.

“Oh, Hi Dr. Reid!” She feigns surprise to match my frivolousness.

“I don’t know if you’ve heard, b-but I really like you. And, a little birdy told me that you like me back.”

She laughs heartily, “Well, that little birdy is a pretty reliable source.”

Soon, her head is resting on my shoulder. My body’s stiff and the air is caught in my lungs, but I feel more content than I have in years. Somehow the weather is warmer, and the sun is brighter, and things just seem... better.

“This is a great city.” She mumbles, peering up at me in the most adorable fashion.

“Yeah,” I smile, “It really is.”

“Pawnee’s a really special town, I love living there. And, I look forward to the moments in my day where I get to hang out with the town, and talk to the town about stuff. The town has really nice blonde hair too. And, it’s read a shocking number of political biographies for a town, which I like.” - Ben Wyatt

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #dr reid #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #sub!spencer #bittersweet #criminal minds x reader #fluff #spencer x y/n #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader

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devildomimagines · 4 years ago

Text

Part 2 Remix

Ok, listen. First, I’m going to need you to go read this *chef’s kiss* of a post if you haven’t already. The Brothers and Undateables at one of Diavolo’s balls when a Noble starts talking down on MC by @arcadejohn127-9. There is now a part 2 for the ending (and it has been up for a while haha)!

Somewhere after the first post was published but before we had the ending, I started writing my own twist on the ending because I was so inspired and because I needed the comfort from the hurt/comfort lol. I’ve finally gotten around to finishing it and I wanted to share. You will see why it took me so long as some of these parts really ran away from me. The younger brothers and the Undateables are under the cut to save everyone’s dash. 😂

Lucifer

For a second he was torn, making that Noble pay or chase after you.

The choice was obvious, you came first.

As he made his way through the crowd, Diavolo caught his eye.

With a few quick gestures, Lucifer had communicated he was going after you. Diavolo nodded, making his way to the Noble to take care of that side of it.

The crowd opened up enough for Lucifer to see the door to the butler’s pantry close.

He had to catch up to you before you met up with Barbatos.

His worst fear right now is that you would take advantage of Barbatos’ power and have the timeline altered to where you never came to Devildom and never met him.

Once he was close enough he used a blast of magic to open the door and rushed into the room.

You had been wiping your tears but with the door bursting open, you jumped and scowled at who was entering. Realizing it was Lucifer, your face softened but looked away.

“You’re still here,” Lucifer held a hand on his chest, allowing himself a moment of relief.

“Well it’s not like I can teleport or fly. I’m just a human.”

The way you talked down about yourself made Lucifer’s own heart drop, your pact physically affecting him, your pride was at the lowest he had ever felt.

As the Avatar of Pride, he wouldn’t stand for it. “You’re not just a human, MC. You’re unbelievably important.”

You rolled your eyes, “Yeah, because I’m Lilith’s descendant and a part of the exchange program.”

“No, you’re important because you bring kindness and joy into everything you do. You’re important because you’ve become the anchor I’ve been trying to be for my family for centuries. You’re important because you truly try to make a meaningful difference even when it’s difficult.” Lucifer moved in front of you, gently tilting your chin up to meet his gaze, “You’re important because I love you.”

Mammon

When he recovered from the shock, he looked around.

The first brother he saw was Levi. He marched over and ordered him to deal with the Noble.

Next he moved in the direction you had stormed off in. He finally caught up to you at the coat check.

You noticed him and looked away pretending you didn’t.

“MC! You going home? I’ll go with,” he dug out his own coat ticket and handed it over to the coat checker.

“You really don’t have to.”

“Don’t be stupid, I’m going where you go,” He moved to sling an arm around your shoulder like he normally does but you shrugged out of his reach. That hurt.

“Well maybe I am stupid! Just a big dumb human who doesn’t realize they’re being used.” You hugged yourself to try to self-soothe.

It took a few moments for Mammon to register all of your words, “What? Who’s using you? Was it that Noble??” He scowled back at the ballroom.

“No, forget it.” You started walking to the exit.

He growled as he grabbed his coat and jogged to catch up to you.

You heard the rushed footsteps and paused more out of habit than anything else. “Mammon, stop.”

He had made it right behind you before he was forced to stop, the pact binding him in place. That didn’t stop his mouth though, “MC, whatever that Noble said to you, it’s a lie!”

“You don’t know what he said,” you replied coldly, “He said that I’m being used, by you and your brothers, by Diavolo, he said that none of you ever really cared about me, I was just a replacement for Lilith.” Repeating the words made them worse, it had you shaking as the sobs started to rattle your body.

“MC,” Mammon whined your name, clearly trying to force his body to move, “drop the spell,” you shook your head no so he begged, “Please MC.”

His desperation softened your resolve for a moment long enough to release the hold you had on him.

Mammon immediately turned you to face him, your tears broke him and he started tearing up. He pulled you into his chest and started, “We never thought of it that way. I was so relieved that Lilith got to lead a fulfilling life where she didn’t have to suffer turning into a demon. You were the result of her happy life that it made me so happy, unbelievably happy. But I liked you before we knew all of that, I was the first of my brothers to see how great you are.” He placed a soft kiss on your forehead, “MC, I love you so much. Please don’t doubt that.”

Leviathan

“Ouch,” he thought as he looked around. The first of his brother’s he found was Beel, his height and orange hair made him stick out. He was also in the most likely place to find him, in front of a table of food.

Levi maneuvered around party guests and tapped at Beel’s shoulder. Very quickly he explained the situation, Beel nodded with a piece of meat hanging out of his mouth and started muscling his way through the dance floor.

Next was to face you. He was nervous, had he done something he wasn’t aware of? Did the Noble point out his inferiority and MC was disgusted to have a pact with him?

He got to the bathroom and hesitated. He could hear your soft cries muffled behind the door. All nervousness left him as he knocked and called out to you, “MC?”

The cries stopped and you answered, “Go away.”

“No,” Where was this confidence coming from, he wondered as he added, “I’m here for you, please let me help you.”

“You can’t help me, you’re part of the problem.”

All of the confidence he just had was shattered. “MC… I’m sorry. If it was something I did, or didn’t do, please tell me. You know I don’t know how to handle these situations but I would never try to hurt you.”

The door swung open and Levi jumped.

“And why is that Levi?” Your tear stained face stared him down.

“Because I c-care about you?” He was confused why you were angry at him now.

“Because I’m a replacement for Lilith?”

“No way!” Now it was his turn to be angry.

A bit of the venom was removed as you asked, “Because I’m a dumb normie human?”

“Well…” He started to joke but when you pouted he took it back, “of course not.”

“Then why?” You sniffled.

Levi looked around, you two were in a pretty secluded area. He took a deep breath and braced himself so he wouldn’t lose his nerve. “I wouldn’t hurt you because we’re a team! My player 2, my Henry, my friend! When I agreed to form a pact with you, it was because you opened my eyes to how valuable it would be to let people into my world. At that time, I had no idea about Lilith, Lucifer kept us in the dark and I chose not to seek out the light. Then you came into my life and you were so bright it hurt my eyes.” He was rambling, “Anyway, you might be a normie human but you’re my normie human! Whatever that Noble said to make you question that, it isn’t true.”

After a beat, you jumped into his arms. His heart was absolutely pounding as he wrapped you in his arms, he knew you’d hear it but he was relieved he somehow said the right thing.

Satan

He knew it was the Noble that caused your mood shift.

You retreated through a door, Satan didn’t have time to make the Noble suffer in the ways he was already imagining.

As he headed for the door himself, he bumped into Lucifer.

It was grinding on his nerves but for your sake he asked Lucifer to take care of the Noble.

Without question, Lucifer whisked off to take care of it. He probably knew it was important since Satan would never ask anything of Lucifer if it wasn’t necessary.

Satan picked up the pace to get to the door and catch you.

He looked down both sides of the connecting hall and found you leaning against the wall facing away from where you had come from.

As he approached he realized your shoulders were shaking. It broke his heart.

When he placed a hand on your arm, you jumped out of your skin and stepped away.

You relaxed seeing it was Satan and not someone else but making eye contact with him hurt, “Leave me alone, I just need a moment.”

You had turned to leave but he wasn’t letting you go again. He regripped your arm.

“Don’t go.”

“Satan…” You sighed trying to bring back some of your usual strength.

“Whatever that Noble said…” A thought dawned on him mid-sentence, “Did he do something to you?” The wrath in him bristled anew.

“He didn’t do anything besides point out some things.” You laughed weakly, “Actually he made some good points I should have seen for myself a long time ago.”

“What points did he make?” Satan asked.

You looked down the hall, debating an escape, “That I was just a pawn to Diavolo’s plans and a replacement for Lilith.”

“That’s not true,” Satan defended.

His tone of finality made you look back at him. He took the opportunity to explain.

“You’re no one’s pawn. You always had and will always have your free will to do as you want. Just as you’ve shown me that I’m my own being,” he held a hand to his chest, “You are your own person.”

You scoffed, “and being related to Lilith-”

“Doesn’t matter to me,” Satan interrupted and finished the sentence. “I’ve heard all the stories from my brothers but I never met her. I met you though,” His hand moved down your arm to your hand.

Automatically you gave his hand a squeeze just falling into habit and he smiled.

“It doesn’t matter how you got here,” Satan started, hoping you would complete the quote from a book you both read.

Quietly you added, “All that matters is you’re here now.”

He pulled you into his arms and you let him engulf you in a warm embrace. It was so different from the sharp, cold feeling you got from the Noble that it felt like home to be here with him.

“I’ll always be here for you MC,” he whispered and you believed him.

Asmodeus

Well clearly something was wrong, you never pulled back from him like that.

He first looked around for some assistance. Things had been fine before your dance with the Noble so something happened in relation to that dance.

The first person he spotted was Satan. Asmo waved him over to the table. Satan nodded and departed from the company he had been talking to. Asmo quickly described the situation in a pretty grim light knowing exactly what would flip the wrath switch in Satan.

The blond demon stalked off after his newly provided prey.

Asmo checked his appearance in a pocket mirror before setting after you. It wasn’t like he had something on his face or a hair out of place that drove you off but he had to be sure.

He found you looking out over the Devildom with the most somber look on your face.

“MC~ You look absolutely stunning under the Devildom moon.”

You sighed.

That wasn’t the reaction Asmo was aiming for. “Won’t you tell me what’s wrong, love?”

“It’s nothing,” you tried to smile but it didn’t light up your face like he knew it could.

“Ok,” Asmo put up his hands. He could take a hint, you didn’t want to talk about it and he wasn’t going to push and make it worse. “Let’s go home then?”

“I know you don’t want to leave. You’ve been looking forward to this all month,” You looked back out at the cityscape.

“Well I don’t want to be here if you’re not having fun,” Asmo snaked an arm around your waist and looked out across the city himself.

He felt you stiffen under his touch and he tried very hard not to pout outwardly but you rejecting him really hurt.

He said he wasn’t going to push but he had to know, “Did the Noble say something unacceptable to you?”

“No, if anything it was too acceptable, factual even.” You leaned away from him and against the railing as your face soured further.

“What did he say?”

“That I’m being used,” you looked at him to see how he reacted to the second part, “by Diavolo and your family.”

His brow furrowed and you knew it was genuine emotion since he would never risk the wrinkles otherwise.

“No, no, no, no, no!” Asmo shook his head, “That’s absolutely not what’s happening.”

“It’s fine,” you shrugged, “we all have our part to play.”

“MC,” Asmo took your shoulders and stared you down, “You are not just some pawn, you’re a very important human to me and my family!”

You looked to the side, “Only because I’m related to Lilith.”

“No? We love you for you!”

You blushed at his blunt honesty, “Oh.”

“Did you think that we didn’t care about you before we learned that you were distantly related?”

“No!” You defended, “But when he was laying out all the info, it did kind of seem like that.”

“Who are you going to trust? Some random or me?” Asmo batted his eyes at you.

After a moment you conceded, “You, of course.”

You both giggled and he whisked you to the dance floor to show you the best night of your life.

Beelzebub

“Wait MC-” Beel jumped up from table, his knees knocked it and it wobbled as he pushed his chair back.

“You couldn’t just leave like that,” he thought, “I can’t lose another…”

He found you on the front balcony. From what he could guess, you paused to take in the fresh air but then watched as you steeled yourself and briskly started your way down the stairs.

“MC,” he caught up easily even in his formalwear, “Let me at least walk you back to the dorm.”

You hesitated, not making eye contact with him, you shrugged, “fine.”

The two of you walked in silence. Beel had no idea what to say to make you stay. He cursed himself that words didn’t come as easily to him like Asmo or Mammon, he couldn’t relate it to something he read or watched like Satan or Levi usually did and he couldn’t think of the perfect solution like he knew Lucifer would.

He was the only thing standing between you and the metaphorical exit and he had to do something.

So he did the only thing he could think of and apologized. “I’m sorry.”

It made you stop, “What?”

“I’m sorry. If it was something I said or did or ate, I’m sorry. If it was one of my brothers then I’m also sorry. Whatever it was, I’m sorry.” Tears pricked in the corners of his eyes. He wasn’t usually one to cry but he was so frustrated and felt so helpless. If this wasn’t what you wanted then you’d be gone.

“No,” you sighed, “I’m sorry, I took out my frustration on you. I’m not mad at you or your brothers. If anything, I’m mad at myself,” you laughed dryly.

“Yourself?” Beel repeated, trying to figure out how he could help you with that.

“Yeah, I should have seen it for myself but that Noble was right,” you continued onwards to HOL.

“Right about what?”

You finally looked at him and it crushed him to see the saddest smile on your face as you answered, “That I’m just some kind of replacement for Lilith. I thought you all really cared about me but your behavior did change after everyone learned I was related to her.”

Beel was frozen in shock. He watched you pick up walking home again.

“That’s not-” he started but you raised a hand to stop him.

“I get it, you guys were so happy that she lived that you wanted to show it in some way,” this time when you turned toward him you couldn’t keep the tears from falling, “and in a way I’m grateful because if I wasn’t her descendant then I wouldn’t be here, I wouldn’t have met you all, and I wouldn’t have been a part of a family like yours. But I’m selfish and I wanted you to love me for who I am.”

He was finally unfrozen and wrapped you in a near-bone-crushing hug. “We do!” Beel confirmed, “We love you, MC!” He began crying, “I love you, please don’t leave.”

Enclosed in his arms, you felt his earnest emotions flood into you, “I believe you,” you wiped his tears, “Thank you for loving me.”

Belphegor

He knew it, that Noble was bad news.

Belphie looked around and easily found Asmo in the middle. He pushed past his fans and told Asmo what happened. Asmo left to take care of the Noble.

Belphie caught up with you in your room back at the HOL.

He had followed the noise and found you were angrily packing a bag, in between wiping your face.

“What’re you doing?” Belphie asked from the door.

The sudden voice made you jump, “Leaving.”

“Why?”

You paused, wringing the shirt in your hand, “We’d all be better off.”

“Because you’re a replacement?” Belphie threw your words back at you but realized his mistake too late.

When you shuddered and fell to your knees crying he wanted to disappear. How could he be so tactless?

“Yes! I’m not Lilith!” You cry-yelled at him. “I wanted so badly to be a part of your family. I did everything for you and your brothers to make amends, to prove myself and my intentions and it didn’t matter! The second you all learned about my lineage, it all changed.”

You sniffled and added, “You hated me for being a human, I’d almost prefer that if that is honestly how you feel about me.”

Ouch. But he deserved that, “I don’t hate you,” he knelt in front of you.

“I’m just a stupid human,” he grabbed your arms and pulled you into him as you sobbed, “I don’t want to be used as a pawn, and I’m not a replacement for your sister.”

“I know, MC,” Belphie soothed, “You’re not a pawn and we know you aren’t a replacement for Lilith.”

“B-but,” you blubbered.

“No buts,” there was an edge to his voice, that he wasn’t going to take any rebuttals. “Without you, we wouldn’t have been able to move forward as a family. We’d be worse off without you in our lives.”

You shifted back a bit to look at him, “Really?”

“Really,” Belphie verified. “Don’t go,” his voice caught in his throat, his own emotions finally hitting him. What would he do without you?

You grabbed his face, assessing for yourself. “Ok…ok.” You relaxed in his hold and finally felt secure in how he felt about you.

Diavolo

You ducked into the kitchen.

He tried to follow but got stopped by a high ranking demon that he could not brush off. He was trapped, that is until Barbatos caught his gaze.

The butler swooped in, distracted the demon with appetizers and began leading them away.

Ever grateful, Diavolo smiled and then another thought hit him. He stopped Barbatos and whispered in his ear what happened between you and the Noble. Barbatos nodded and made his way to find and complete his new task.

Diavolo jumped into the kitchen before anyone else could stop him.

“MC?” he looked around and found you sitting on the counter with your head in your hands. His heart dropped.

You sniffled, “Go back to your party.”

“I don’t feel like it.” he mused.

“What a spoiled prince,” you replied.

He felt hopeful, if you were joking then surely you would recover. “Won’t you tell me what happened?”

When you tensed, he stopped inching closer.

“It doesn’t matter. I don’t matter.”

“That’s not true,” Diavolo tried to take your hands but you fought him slightly, still trying to cover your face. When you finally relented and looked at him with tear stains on your face, he swore he never felt a greater rush of love and the need to protect like he did in that moment, “You’re so important to me.”

“Because I’m an exchange student?” You searched his face for any reaction.

“What?” He was actually dumbfounded. “You think that’s the only reason I care for you?”

“What other reason could there be? Isn’t that the whole point of why I was here in the first place?”

He paused to gather his thoughts. There were so many reasons to love you and the fact that you could be undone like this from one conversation proves that Diavolo was failing you. Still holding your hands, he raised one to kiss your knuckles. “I’ll admit that at first, my goal to build bridges between the realms was my focus, but as the program went on, I found myself looking forward to our meetings. Much to Barbatos’ chagrin, I would sneak out to steal a few moments with you and they meant everything to me.”

You had begun rubbing his hand with your thumb, tears were gone but you still looked sad.

He rested his forehead against yours, “I can’t imagine what my life would have been like if I didn’t meet you. You’ve brought a joy and sense of adventure into my life that I wouldn’t trade for anything.”

“Thanks Dia,” When you smiled softly, he could swear his heart was melting into a puddle. “I’m sorry if I ruined your night.”

“Nonsense!” Diavolo laughed and backed up to help you off the counter, “The night’s still young and I think I owe you a dance.”

You squeezed his hand, “Wait, I probably look terrible from crying!”

The kitchen door swung open to Barbatos trying to hold back Asmo. Asmo chirped, “We can help with that!”

Diavolo laughed at the sight. Barbatos sighed and released Asmo as he whipped out his travel make-up kit and busied himself with you.

Barbatos stood next to Diavolo and in a hushed tone affirmed, “The target has been captured.”

A dark look passed over Diavolo’s face as he responded, “Good. We’ll deal with him in the morning.”

Barbatos

He wanted to chase after you but his duty was of course to Diavolo and the ball at hand.

Within a few moments, he reasoned that the ball was in danger of being compromised if you weren’t there and the Noble was allowed to roam free of consequence.

Barbatos wasn’t one to ask for help but he knew that if he mentioned the Noble’s actions to Lucifer, the demon would take matters into his own hands to deal with it and Lucifer did so.

That left him to track you down. He had a feeling of where he’d find you.

Out in the garden, seated on the bench, you were fidgeting with his handkerchief.

Careful to make noise as he approached you so as to not spook you with his usually silent steps, Barbatos sat on the other end of the bench.

He caught you peeking at him so he tried not to look directly at you, knowing it would make you feel uncomfortable.

“Thank you for this,” you held out his handkerchief.

“Any time,” he accepted it and even through his gloves, he could feel the dampness. Had he left you alone for too long to have cried this much? Very slowly he folded the cloth and put it in his pocket.

“Also I’m sorry for my behavior before.” You shifted and began to explain, “I was confused and hurt, that Noble… actually nevermind.”

“There’s no need to apologize to me, though I am sorry for the distress you’ve gone through.”

Still bothered, you had to ask, “Why do you tolerate me?”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you only nice to me because you’re under orders to be?”

He couldn’t lie, “Lord Diavolo has directed me to be of use to the exchange students, but I’ve come to genuinely appreciate your company, if that isn’t too presumptuous.”

You peeked over again and could see a light blush on the butler’s cheeks, he wasn’t looking at you now out of embarrassment.

That earned a small smile, “It’s not, I’m grateful to hear your true feelings.” You paused thinking on what the Noble said, “Do you think the others feel the same? That they actually like me, not as some replacement for Lilith or as a tool to be used?”

Ah so that’s the idea that the Noble had planted, he rubbed his chin in thought. “While I can’t speak for the brothers, I can conclude that you mean much more to Lord Diavolo than he’d like to admit. He has never spoken ill of you in my presence. Even Lucifer, who has often verbalized his distaste for his brothers’ shenanigans, has never voiced the same of you even if you were involved in said shenanigans.”

“Well that’s something.”

“It certainly is,” He confirmed.

You giggled and it was like Barbatos was hearing his favorite song for the first time.

After a beat, he stood, brushed himself off more out of habit than any actual dirt accumulation and faced you. You looked slightly surprised. He bowed and offered his arm, “Shall we head back in?”

Hesitantly, you took his hand, “Can I stay with you?”

“If that is what you desire,” Barbatos smiled and led your hand to hold his arm, “How could I deny a direct request like that?”

Solomon

He was stunned for a minute. Had you meant him and you weren’t on the same page or the humans and the demons weren’t on the same page?

Solomon was pretty sure that the pacts were a clear indicator of a human and a demon being on the same page.

This was the perfect opportunity to take advantage of one of his new pacts, he sent the demon to gather as much information, good and bad, that they could dig up about the Noble that had danced with you.

If knowledge was power then he wanted as much knowledge on his side as he could get before making a move.

That left him free to follow you. He caught the sight of you as you left into an adjoining hallway.

Shuffling through the crowd he broke free and got himself through the door. He looked both ways and found you at the end, turning the corner.

Although not one for running, he jogged down the hall to catch up with you.

You had turned to watch for the approaching noise and at the sight of your watery eyes he skidded to a stop.

Solomon couldn’t remember a time when he had seen you cry, not like this, where your whole being seemed depleted.

“MC…”

“I’m fine,” you wiped the tears away quickly, “I was dumb for thinking that any of this meant something to them, that’s on me.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The exchange program, the demons, everything here was just all part of Diavolo’s plan and I played right into it.” Bitterly you added, “I was a pawn and I couldn’t even see it.”

“That’s not true,” Solomon rebuked. “I’m sure they did not count on you making pacts with the 7 demon brothers. They are extremely high ranking, that wasn’t an easy feat.”

“They’re not any better, they probably only did so because I was some sort of replacement for Lilith.”

“Lilith… oh yes the fallen angel that almost did not survive.” He nodded as he remembered, “Is that what they said when they made the pact with you?”

“Well not exactly…” you admitted.

“I see,” he took your hand and pulled you to a nearby bench, “I happen to know a bit about pacts.”

You rolled your eyes but he took it as a good sign, “And when entering the pact, usually one or both parties admit their reason behind entering the contract. Usually it’s the human asking for something only that demon can offer like money, power or influence, but that wasn’t the case for you was it?”

“No.”

“What was it that they were looking for from you?”

You didn’t answer for a while, thinking back on each of the pacts being forged. “If I had to sum it up for all of them, love or acceptance.”

Huh, that was pretty straightforward, Solomon wondered why he hadn’t thought of that. “That seems like something only you could have given them, I doubt they would want the same from me.”

You laughed, “I wouldn’t say that, Asmo really loves you, he always talks about you.”

Solomon groaned for effect but you both knew he cherished the bond with the demon.

“You were never their pawn, they chose to offer the pact and you chose to accept, that was not something orchestrated by someone else.”

Finally, you nodded, seeing his perspective. “You’re right.”

“Of course I’m right,” he joked.

With a light punch of his arm, you both made your way back to the party. Solomon planned on showing you a magical night.

Simeon

The walk back to Purgatory Hall was quick, too quick for Simeon to figure out what happened.

He’d seen you dancing but not who with, also why had you been in such a hurry to get away from the brothers? He thought things were going well with them.

“I’ll put on some tea, ok?” Simeon offered as you two entered the front door.

You nodded and sat at the table.

“Simeon~” Luke called, “You’re back early!” The cherub entered the room and saw you from behind, “And MC!? What a treat!”

Luke came up to your side and caught your sad expression before you could turn away. “What happened?” He shot an accusatory glare at Simeon.

Simeon looked shocked, Luke thought you were upset because of him?

“It’s nothing Luke,” you replied softly, “you were right, I shouldn’t have trusted demons.”

The two angels looked at each other shocked, neither had expected that. “Well of course!” Luke defended, “What did they do?”

You sighed, you didn’t see a way to brush them both off so you recanted the dance with the noble, the things he knew about you and the ideas he had brought to your attention.

Luke chomped down on a cookie, “Well he’s not wrong about Diavolo’s plan.”

“Luke,” Simeon admonished, “I’ve known Diavolo for a long time, he’s not one to use others for personal gain, even if he is a demon. He’s always preferred to do things his own way.”

“And those brothers?” Luke asked. You looked at Simeon expectantly, your face repeating the question, ‘And those brothers?’

“I’ve known them for a long time too. Of course they adored their sister Lilith, we all did. But no one could serve as her replacement because she was irreplaceable.” Simeon allowed that thought a moment to sink in. “I think that you've made your own bonds with them, different and separate from your ancestral lineage.”

“I suppose…” You conceded.

“Why do you even put up with them MC?” Luke offered.

Now you had to laugh, “For a while I thought they were the ones putting up with me.”

“No way!”

“Yes way,” you smiled at him as you sipped your tea. “I think you forget sometimes that you’re all powerful beings and I am not.”

Luke blushed, “You’re powerful, in your own way!”

“Thank you,” you put your hand on his cheek and he smiled.

You looked over at Simeon, “Can I spend the night here?”

Although he still sensed some sadness from you, it certainly was not the same level as he had felt when he bumped into you before.

“Yes!” Luke answered first, “Please Simeon!”

With the two of you giving him pouty looks, “How can I say no?”

“Yay!” Luke cheered and ran from the room, “Sleep over!”

“It’s alright if you’d rather not entertain Luke all night,” You offered, “I can go back to the HOL, I don’t want to impose.”

“You’re not getting out of this that easy,” Simeon teased, “He probably has six movies lined up already and he has been practicing making pillow forts in his room.”

You both laughed, “I appreciate you listening Simeon, I’m glad I have a guardian angel like you,” you winked as you joined Luke on the floor. He did already have a stack of movies to watch.

Simeon blushed and then shook his head to clear his thoughts as he joined the blanket pile.

#obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me asmodeus #obey me satan #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me solomon #obey me simeon #obey me angst

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foli-vora · 4 years ago

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Congrats on 1K!!! Your writing is absolutely wonderful thank you for sharing with all of us. Could I please request 35 with Dave York?

Thank you for your sweet words, angel! So I went with angst, and this is pretty... heavy. Thanks for your request, I hope this is okay.

#35—kissing/touching bruises and scars

Pairing: Dave York x f!reader

Warnings: angst, people. ANGST. Graphic talk of death, bodies and funerals.

So still. Startlingly so.

They had said it wouldn’t be possible, but you had to give it to them, they were fucking good at their job. Closed casket, they had said. That was the only option after the recovery of his body. You don’t remember the words you had said, sobbed, over the phone. How were you meant to say goodbye if you couldn’t even see his face?

The face you had kissed so many times before, the face that had nuzzled into your throat and rested on your chest after a hard day. The face you had looked into when a cool ring was slid onto your finger, the face that had calmed your panic while bringing your daughters into the world.

You didn’t get the details, but they had said the damage was… severe, but you were struggling to see anything out of the ordinary. They said reconstruction had been necessary during the process of making him… presentable for viewing, and in a haze of achingly numb curiosity, you’re wondering what parts of your husband's face and body was wax and what was flesh.

He’s cold under your fingers, and not in the ways he had felt after running in from the car during a storm, or how his skin would feel after playing in the snow with the girls. It’s an unnatural chill. There’s no warming his skin from this, no amount of warm cocoa and cuddles that could fix this.

“Molly won her match the day after you left.” You mutter, fingers moving to pinch and fix the crisp collar of his shirt and pressed suit, like you had done thousands of times before, a small smile curling your lips. “She even scored a goal. You should’ve seen her face… she was so excited. I… I filmed it for you.” Not that you’ll ever see it.

The silence hangs heavy in the air, but you still continue, voice breaking the emptiness filling the room.

“Alice lost another tooth. I didn’t have a dollar in my purse, so she got five, instead. She -” you break off with a huff of a hollow laugh, tears stinging your eyes, “she said she’s going to send it to you in heaven, so you can buy a ticket home.”

You break then, wondering if he was somewhere listening, wondering if he was there, somewhere, when your little girl blinked innocently up at you, little voice saying it so simply, like she knew with her whole heart it was just that easy.

You fight the lump choking your throat, the ugly feel of it building in your airway almost painful. A tear hits the side of the casket, and you watch it slide down the smooth dark mahogany with bile churning in your gut. The blunt edge of your teeth dig harshly into your tongue, the shock of it dampening the sobs building in your chest.

“We need you at home, Dave.” You whimper, fingers tracing along his face and whatever scars linger beneath the warm tone of makeup coating the blue hue of his face. “The girls, they - they need their daddy. You know Alice doesn’t do well with the dark, she doesn’t trust me enough to get the monsters out of her cupboard.”

He’s too fucking still.

Say something please.

“Molly won’t eat, and she won’t talk to me, baby. She won’t. She... she just sits in your office.” Your chest shudders as you try to inhale a lungful of oxygen, voice catching in your throat as it jumps in your need to breathe.

“And… and I need you. Damn it Dave, I - I need you here, please…”

You cover it. The casket… your husband’s casket. Your torso rests on the wood, your face hovering so close to his vacant one. You will his eyes to open, will yourself to wake up to whatever fucking nightmare this was that you seem to be trapped in.

“Dave?” You whimper, hand cupping his cheek. You expect him to move, to grumble like he would on weekend mornings, but nothing. Fucking nothing. He really wasn’t here. He really wasn’t coming home.

This was… it.

It takes you a few minutes to calm the attack of crippling howls scratching your throat raw, the begs that leave your lips going unanswered. Your eyes throb in their sockets, an ache building steadily in your temples.

“Wherever you are…” you whisper, “wait for me, okay? And stay close to us. We need you.”

Just one final time, that’s all you need. Just one more time, and then he could go. He could... he could be at peace. The cool feel of his lips haunt you long after he gets put in the ground, the muffled cries of two heartbroken little girls melting into your jacket.

#foli's 1k #dave york x reader #dave york x f!reader #dave york #pedro pascal x reader

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allforyoumylovely · 4 years ago

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emma, hiii. you're taking requests, like that's the best thing ever hihi. idk why but I've had this image in my head of sander resting against robbe's chest as he robbe reads to him, while he runs a hand through sander's hair. maybe sander is coming out of a bad episode or maybe they're just relaxing on a sunday, but yeah.... maybe something like that hihi. much love to you emma <333

Cille, this was an absolute dream prompt for me, my gosh 💘 📖 I went off on a few tangents but hopefully that’s okay sfhjg. Walk, shower, read. It’s their little routine 🧡 Thank you for sending me this. Love you! Btw let me know if I should upload these on ao3 or if they should just be little tumblr exclusives?

Sander always knows when he’s fading away, when he’s turning into a shell of himself. But he never knows when he’s going to fall asleep at the wheel. Until it’s too late, until he crashes. And that’s when he loses all sense of who he is, of what he enjoys or how he likes to dress or what his voice normally sounds like. Sometimes the only indication of time passing is his alarms that tell him to take his meds and eat at set times.

Although he doesn’t reach the point anymore where he wants to be physically erased – he knows that this seemingly perpetual state of sadness isn’t definitive no matter how much his brain tries to convince him otherwise – some days all he can drag himself out of bed for is a cup of coffee and a cigarette or a few slices of tangerine, the scent reminding him of his boy, his college boy. He’ll crack open a window in the living room and curl up against the cushions in the window-seat, the hood of his black hoodie over his head, and there he’ll try weaving his way through the weeds and the tangled neurons in his thunder-stained mind to anything resembling an actual thought with a pinch of substance.

For the days where he’s more clear-headed his mama puts up little post-its around the house with simple tasks for him to do to help him feel useful and necessary. And in the mornings whenever Robbe has spent the night, Sander finds little notes from him too; there’ll be an I love you on his pillow, an I’m so glad you exist placed on his desk and I’m bringing you flowers later <3 hanging on his door. The first time Sander doesn’t think Robbe actually means the one with the flowers, but when he buzzes him in later that afternoon, the first thing he sees is a bouquet of light pink lilies cradled in his arm against the autumn brown of his jacket, the hues so lovely and gentle, just like Robbe. It’s more than Sander’s frail mind can take, and Robbe wipes away the thin streams of warm tears with his sweater paws, and they laugh softly when it only makes it worse.

Since before Robbe, Sander has been figuring out what soothes him, what makes him feel more at ease, what helps him settle back into his body and bones when coming out of a bad episode, and he has slowly built up a list of things that assist in bringing the puzzle pieces of his mind back into place.

Walks

Sander’s aunt has a golden retriever, Bella, who goes on a little holiday at Sander’s when he’s down and spends most of his days at home. In the mornings she’ll pad over the hard-wood floor to his bed and nuzzle her nose against Sander’s face until he wakes up, waiting patiently for her walk. It’s easier for Sander to get out of bed knowing there’s someone relying on him for their needs and wellbeing. He’ll take her and himself on a walk in the fog-blue mornings when the morning traffic is yet to come, and then again in the early evening when it’s still light out but the streets are quieter, enough for him to give his brain some stimulation when it feels like it has slowed to a halt. The sound of his boots against the sidewalk reminds him that he’s still part of the world, that he hasn’t completely vanished after all.

Sometimes he goes by himself, just listening to and observing the city around him with pale eyes. Other times Robbe goes with him, sleepy-eyed and rosy-cheeked in the mornings, relaxed and loose-limbed at night. He doesn’t curl his hand around Sander’s but lets it hang by his side with their pinkies brushing, open and inviting, for Sander to take if and when he feels like it. Sander will thread their fingers together always, but he loves Robbe for giving him a choice and never forcing anything on him.

Often, they find a bench somewhere, in a park or at the river, a place that isn’t too crowded but still has plenty of things for Sander to rest his eyes on. It’s only the middle of September but some leaves are already falling, lying yellow and limp on the ground, and Robbe notices Sander’s wondering expression.

“It’s probably because the weather has been so dry; they’re shedding their leaves to conserve water and energy,” he says.

And Sander instinctively inches closer, a small smile on his lips. “Clever you.”

Bella sits by Sander’s legs with her head propped on his knee, her deep brown eyes alternatively scanning the place and glancing up at him, sensing his sadness. She’s calm and curious and cuddly, reminding him of a certain someone. When Sander tells him, Robbe breathes out a little giggle, making Sander gaze at him more deeply than he has in days, at the silky curls around his ears and the blinking hoop and the crescent dimples curved into his cheeks, and he’ll quietly rest his head on the slope of Robbe’s shoulder, a few tiny clearings of blue sky starting to appear in his overcast mind.

Showers

Back at home, he and Robbe linger in the hallway for a bit, their hair messy, the scent of fresh air in their clothes. When Robbe says that his green, sparkly eyes are coming back, Sander curls a few fingers in the front of Robbe’s shirt, feeling the firm plane of his stomach against his knuckles as he mumbles, “Shower.”

Some nights Sander can’t stand the mere idea of catching glimpses of himself in the mirror; hates the way he looks with his violet circles and dull, greasy hair. So Robbe will light a couple of candles, and they’ll undress in the dim orange glow and quietly get under the shower spray. And there, with Sander’s forehead resting against his own, Robbe will wash Sander’s hair and tell him that he looks beautiful in this light, while his fingers work in small, bone-melting circles. The near orgasmic pressure on his scalp helps reconnecting Sander’s mind and body, making him press up tightly against Robbe, finally diving back into the swirling, velvety heat that licks into every cell of his being.

“Thank you for… For staying with me,” he says between hushed breaths and light kisses. It falls clumsy from his lips, sounding graver than he intends it to, but Robbe, the angel soul that he is, moulds his answer into five words of pure reassurance that protectively wrap themselves around Sander’s heart.

“I’m going to marry you.”

Sander doesn’t cry. But he’s very damn close.

Reading

This one begins one night maybe a year into their relationship. While Robbe brushes his teeth, Sander wanders Robbe’s room, taking in the familiarity of it, running a hand over the forest green sweatshirt draped over his chair, trailing the edge of his desk with a few fingertips. When he reaches his set of shelves, he sees it wedged in between a plant and some school supplies: a book of bedtime stories filled with beautiful watercolour illustrations, the cover a painting of a dark blue night sky with a full moon reading for her stars over a little sleeping village. The spine is threadbare, seemingly from the countless times of being opened and closed. As he flicks through the crinkled pages, soft lips press against the nape of his neck and the back of his shoulder.

“Are you snooping around my room?” Robbe mumbles.

“Mhm,” Sander hums. “What’s this book?”

Twining his arms around Sander’s stomach from behind Robbe says, “When I was little my mama used to read these stories aloud for me at night. She was looking through some stuff the other day and found it again.” He hooks his chin over Sander’s shoulder. “It’s cute, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. Very.” Sander glances back at Robbe with a squeezing feeling in his chest. “Did it make you fall asleep?”

Robbe smiles. “Every time.”

Sander drops his gaze back to the book, asking quietly, “Will you read for me?”

And Robbe brushes a “Sure” and a kiss behind his ear, tugging him along to the bed.

It’s something they do now: Robbe reading aloud for Sander whenever he feels low and doesn’t have many words to offer. Sander then tucks his head under Robbe’s chin, and Robbe tangles his fingers in his freshly washed and citrussy-smelling hair, scraping over his scalp in endless, soothing motions. Safe and sound, Sander listens to stories about naughty star-children, wizards flying about in rolled up rugs, and a Goodnight-ship with live stuffed animals as passengers. They flow over him like dripping streams of honey, Robbe’s voice lovely and wonderful and a little sleepy, and Sander tries so desperately to make his foggy brain hold onto the words.

Sometimes when the night air is cooling Sander’s room and Robbe feels a little cold, he’ll wear a thick hoodie to bed. Sander loves the scent and the comfy feel of the well-worn fabric under his palm, but sometimes he gets a little frowny and frustrated at having to fumble for his small waist; so Robbe pulls it off despite the goosebumps rising on his skin, and Sander presses his ear to his heart and tightens his hold around him, sharing his body heat his only job while he listens to stories from when Robbe was little. And Sander feels little too; but it’s something he allows himself. A few years ago, he didn’t dare dream that he’d ever have this with someone; didn’t think he even had this level of softness in himself.

But here he is. Here they are.

He has never wanted to be someone’s more than he does Robbe’s; it’s so clear that he belongs to him. And it’s crazy, Sander thinks. Because no matter how feeble and numb around the edges his body and mind feel, his love for Robbe is always right there in a molten pond at the core of him, and Sander could cry at the fact that his brain always lets him have that.

In the days following, when he finds that he has enough energy to send Robbe little dorky, flirty texts throughout the day, such as Bella woke me up with wet, sloppy kisses. Wish it was you or when you’re in the mood for a snack but you’re not there💔 with an attached photo of himself pouting at the open fridge, he knows that the darkness in his chest and brain is releasing its hold and taking flight.

#drabbles 💗#wtfock #cille 💗

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