#to be clear this is a joke and I am in no way demanding any response or plotpoints | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

anna-the-undertaker · 2 months ago

Note

Pick-a-fic prompt:

Newly arrived MC being unable to deal with the Brothers to the point of debating leaving the exchange program and thus running to the relative peace of the castle to step back and reflect (focus on the Royals)

Newly arrived MC being unable to deal with the Brothers to the point of debating leaving the exchange program and thus running to the relative peace of the castle, but the brothers find MC’s diary where their doubts are written as plain as day (focus on the Brothers)

Sorry this took so long to get to, I've just been so busy working, prepping stuff for moving, and I got absorbed in the fic I am working on. I chose the second one and ended up giving it more angst. I hope this is what you were asking for. Enjoy :)

Failure

MC had never felt so small.

From the moment they arrived in the Devildom, they were an outsider—human, fragile, and completely out of place. The brothers tolerated their presence, but only just. Every day was a new challenge, a struggle to keep their head above water in a world so different from their own.

Mammon, their first pact and appointed guardian, never missed an opportunity to remind them of how much of a burden they were. "Oi, don’t just stand there lookin’ useless. If you’re gonna stick around, at least do somethin’ useful, huh?" He’d toss those words at them with a grin, almost like it was a joke, but the sting was real. His careless remarks hit hard, especially when MC was already trying to find their place in this strange world. Mammon didn’t see the damage; to him, they were just another chore to deal with, something that got in the way of his schemes.

Leviathan wasn’t much better. Whenever MC tried to interact with him, they were met with his judgmental stare, as though they were trespassing. "What’s a normie like you doing here? Don’t you have somewhere else to be?" His voice was laced with annoyance, making them feel like some bizarre creature that had wandered into his private world. He kept his distance, never giving MC a chance to show they could connect with him, too. His obsession with his fictional worlds only made them feel even more like an outsider, as though they’d never understand or be worthy of stepping into his life.

Satan? Satan barely acknowledged their existence. If he ever looked up from his books, it was with frustration, as if MC’s very presence disrupted his thoughts. "Can’t you see I’m busy?" he’d say, his voice cold and dismissive. He wasn’t cruel, but his indifference hurt just as much. It was like MC was invisible unless they somehow got in his way.

And Asmodeus—Asmo treated MC like an accessory, something to admire for a moment and then discard when something more interesting caught his eye. "Darling, if you're going to wear something that dull, I really can’t be seen with you." His words were often accompanied by a smile, but the superficiality behind them was clear. He made them feel like an object, like their only worth was tied to their appearance. Even worse, Asmo never seemed to consider how his constant fixation on perfection weighed on MC, making them question their own worth more and more each day.

Beelzebub? He rarely acknowledged MC at all. His focus was always on food, and even when he did notice them, it wasn’t in a way that made them feel seen. "You smell different. Wonder if you’d taste good," he’d say offhandedly, as if it was just a passing thought. He didn’t mean any harm, but hearing those words was unsettling. It made them feel even less like a person and more like some temporary guest who didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things.

But Lucifer… Lucifer was the hardest to bear. His demands for perfection pressed down on MC like an unbearable weight. He expected them to adapt instantly, to know things they couldn’t possibly know, and when they inevitably made mistakes, the look of disdain in his eyes was enough to crush them. "I need you to be better," he’d say, his voice calm but sharp. MC could never shake the feeling that they were constantly being judged, constantly falling short of his expectations. His false sense of care grated on them the most—he acted like he was guiding them, but to MC, it felt more like control.

Everything was so new, so overwhelming, and no one seemed to care that they were struggling. They couldn’t keep up, and instead of offering help, the brothers’ habits and personalities only deepened their isolation. The teasing, the judgment, the indifference—it was all too much.

So, they ran.

It wasn’t a dramatic escape. They didn’t even pack their bags. They simply left one night, slipping out of the House of Lamentation and making their way to Diavolo’s castle. If anywhere in the Devildom could offer peace, it was there. Leaving behind their diary, a collection of their thoughts, hopes, and fears. They didn’t expect anyone to find it. Writing had been their only outlet, the only way to cope with the growing weight of their struggles.

At first, the brothers didn’t notice their absence. Days passed, and the empty seat at the table went unremarked upon. Only when the small disruptions became too obvious did Mammon speak up.

"Oi, where’s the human? It ain’t like ‘em to just disappear without a word," he grumbled. But even then, his tone was more annoyed than concerned.

Lucifers sharp gaze swept the hallways, his mind turning over the details of MC’s sudden absence. He’d been busy—too busy, really. Between managing his brothers and fulfilling his duties, MC had slipped from his radar, and now… now he realized he hadn’t checked in on them in days.

It wasn’t until Satan, searching for a book, came across MC’s diary tucked away in a corner of their room that the truth was revealed.

Satan made his way to the eldests office, frowning as he thumbed through the pages. "Lucifer, you should see this."

Lucifer took the diary, reading in silence as his eyes traced the words MC had written. The others were called, and soon they all knew what MC had been feeling.

The entries were raw, filled with MC’s doubts and pain. Each brother’s name was scrawled across the pages, followed by confessions of how their words and actions had hurt.

“Mammon makes me feel like I’m nothing but a burden. Every time he calls me useless, it’s like he’s confirming something I’ve already been afraid of. I’m just in the way here.”

“Levi never sees me as more than a ‘normie.’ It’s like I’m some strange animal in his eyes, something he doesn’t want to understand. He shuts me out every time I try to get closer.”

“Satan barely notices I exist. And when he does, it’s always with that look… like I’m a problem he doesn’t want to deal with. I guess I am a problem.”

“Asmo’s always commenting on how I look. I know it’s not personal, but it feels like all I am to him is an object. A pretty thing to dress up, but never good enough to really matter.”

“Beel doesn’t seem to care one way or another. He’s so focused on his hunger that I don’t think he even notices when I’m around. When he does, it’s just another reminder that I don’t really belong here.”

“Lucifer… I don’t know how to describe it. He expects so much from me. Too much. He looks at me like I’m failing him, like I’m not worth the time it takes to help. His care feels false. I can’t keep up with his demands, and I don’t think he even realizes how much I’m struggling just to stay afloat.”

And then came the final entry.

“I don’t think I can do this anymore. Everything is too much. The brothers… they don’t care about me. I’m just another responsibility to them, one they didn’t ask for. I’m seriously thinking about leaving the exchange program. Maybe I should. Maybe I’m not strong enough for this.”

The brothers were silent and exchanged glances, the weight of the words sinking in. They just hadn’t realized how much their habits, their personalities, had affected MC. Mammon’s constant jabs, Levi’s distant hostility, Asmo’s superficial comments, Satan’s cold indifference, Beel’s lack of attention… all of it had chipped away at MC’s sense of self, until they felt like they didn’t matter.

Lucifer closed the diary, his jaw tight. "I didn’t know they felt this way," he said, his voice low.

Mammon shifted uncomfortably. "I didn’t mean it like that. I thought we were just messin’ around."

Levi rubbed the back of his neck. "I didn’t think they cared what I thought. I mean, I barely even know them."

Satan’s frown deepened. "We’ve all been too focused on ourselves."

Asmo’s eyes were wide with guilt. "I didn’t realize… I just thought they were shy. Or adjusting." He looked down, his usual confidence gone.

Beel said nothing, his expression a mix of regret and confusion. He hadn’t even noticed how much MC had been struggling, too wrapped up in his own needs to see theirs.

"We need to bring them back," Lucifer said finally, his voice firm.

At the castle, the brothers had expected to find MC sulking, perhaps still angry or hurt. They had come, armed with apologies and, for once, a united front. Lucifer led them, the weight of the diary heavy in his hands. It felt strange, unsettling even, to think they had been so blind to MC's struggles. They had planned to convince MC to stay, to promise things would be different this time.

But when they arrived, the castle was eerily quiet. Barbatos greeted them at the entrance, his face impassive, but his eyes held a hint of something… regretful.

"Where is MC?" Lucifer asked, his voice tight.

Barbatos looked at the group for a moment before lowering his gaze. "You’re too late."

"What'dya mean, 'too late?'" Mammon blurted, stepping forward, his usual confidence replaced with a flicker of panic.

Barbatos sighed softly, his tone unusually firm. "MC has already returned to the human world. They made the request to Lord Diavolo, and it has been granted."

The weight of his words sank in, and the brothers stood in stunned silence. Lucifer, for once, had no immediate response. Mammon’s shoulders slumped, and Levi's hands fidgeted nervously at his sides. Asmo’s mouth opened as if to say something, but no words came out, while Beel’s expression darkened in quiet contemplation. Satan clenched his fists, the anger rising, though not directed at anyone but themselves.

"Why?" Levi muttered, more to himself than to anyone else.

"Because," Diavolo’s voice echoed through the hall as he approached them, his expression serious, "they didn’t believe things would change. MC had been struggling for some time, and none of you noticed. They felt abandoned. They were overwhelmed, and by the time you realized, it was already too late."

The silence was suffocating as the future King of the Devildom regarded them with a mixture of disappointment and anger.

"You failed," Diavolo’s voice echoed through the room, each word a sharp blade. "You were given one task—one simple requirement as part of this exchange program. To make MC feel welcome. To make them feel as if they belonged. To get to know them and have them know you in return. To foster understanding."

The brothers stood in a line, shoulders hunched, guilt pressing down on them like a heavy weight. None of them dared to speak.

Diavolo’s gaze shifted to Lucifer, his disappointment palpable. "And you," he said, his voice soft but laced with reprimand, "I expected better of you."

Lucifer flinched at the words. His usual mask of calm confidence shattered under the weight of Diavolo’s gaze. For a moment, he felt utterly powerless, a sensation he had long fought to suppress.

"You let this happen under your watch. You let MC suffer to the point where they felt they had no choice but to leave the Devildom behind entirely." Diavolo’s words were like a hammer, each one driving the guilt deeper. "You let them slip through your fingers."

Mammon, Levi, Asmo, Beel, and Satan could do nothing but hang their heads in shame, their usual bickering and antics gone, replaced by the crushing realization of how badly they had failed. This wasn’t just about MC’s disappearance—it was about everything they had overlooked, every word they hadn’t said, every opportunity to make things right that they had ignored.

Diavolo took a breath, his tone softening slightly but still firm. "You were supposed to protect them. Instead, you pushed them away."

The silence was heavy, unbearable. None of them could meet Diavolo’s gaze.

"You will return to the House of Lamentation and reflect on what has happened here today," Diavolo said, his voice a final command. "I hope, for all our sakes, that this failure teaches you something."

With those parting words, Diavolo turned his back to them, and the brothers were left with nothing but the weight of their failure pressing down on their shoulders.

They sulked back to the House of Lamentation, each one lost in their own thoughts, their usual banter replaced with a somber silence. They had been too late. MC was gone.

Lucifer

Lucifer sat in his study, the heavy silence of the House of Lamentation pressing down on him. The others had retreated to their rooms, each of them nursing their own guilt, but Lucifer remained still, staring at the open diary on his desk. MC’s words were a stark reminder of his failure—his failure to see, his failure to act, his failure to protect. The very thing he prided himself on—his ability to maintain control, to ensure perfection in everything under his watch—had crumbled in the worst possible way.

Failure.

The word echoed in his mind, gnawing at him like a relentless force. Lucifer's hands clenched into fists, his knuckles turning white as his anger rose, burning in his chest. How could he have allowed this to happen? How could he, of all people, have been so blind? He had always maintained order, ensured everything ran smoothly. He had taken on every responsibility, every burden, to prevent things from falling apart. But this...this was a disaster.

It was intolerable.

The weight of Diavolo’s words still hung heavy in the air: I expected better of you. The sting of those words cut deeper than any reprimand he had ever received. Diavolo had placed his trust in him, and he had let him down. Worse, he had let MC down—an innocent, fragile human who had come to the Devildom trusting they would be safe, that they would find a place here.

Lucifer stood abruptly, shoving his chair back with a force that sent it crashing against the wall. His usually composed demeanor shattered as the rage he had been holding back erupted. He slammed his fists down onto the desk, the sound echoing through the room. Papers scattered, and the sharp crack of wood under pressure reverberated through the air.

How had he missed it? How had he, with all his precision and attention to detail, been so oblivious to MC’s suffering? His grip on control, his obsession with perfection, had blinded him to what was truly important. He had been so focused on maintaining order, on keeping his brothers in line, that he hadn’t even noticed the cracks forming right in front of him.

And now, it was too late.

MC was gone—back to the human world. They hadn’t even waited to see if things would change, if the brothers would make things right. They had made their decision, and it was a resounding statement of just how much Lucifer had failed them.

His chest tightened with frustration. He had been so focused on pushing MC to adapt, to fit the mold he thought they needed to fill, that he had ignored the reality of their struggles. He had looked at them through a lens of expectation rather than understanding, and now they were lost to him. To them all.

Lucifer closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, trying to reign in the storm of anger and guilt coursing through him. This failure—the bitter taste of it—was unacceptable. He couldn’t undo what had been done. He couldn’t change the fact that he had let Diavolo down, that he had let MC down.

But he could make sure it never happened again.

Slowly, Lucifer opened his eyes, the flames of anger still burning but now tempered by a cold resolve. He would not allow this to break him. He would not allow this failure to define him. He had to remain strong—not just for himself, but for Diavolo, for the Devildom, and for his brothers.

But deep down, the rage simmered, a constant reminder of his imperfection, his weakness. He had been shown the one thing he hated most: his own limits.

Failure.

It was something Lucifer would never forget. And never forgive. Not himself, and not the others.

Mammon

Mammon sat on the edge of his bed, hunched over with his elbows on his knees, his hands tangled in his hair. The silence in the House of Lamentation was deafening, pressing down on him in a way that made his chest feel tight. MC was gone—back to the human world. They hadn’t even said goodbye.

His first instinct had been to brush it off, like he always did. Make some flippant comment about how MC would be back soon enough, that they just needed a little time to cool off. But as the hours passed and reality settled in, the truth was undeniable.

MC wasn’t coming back.

"Dammit..." Mammon muttered under his breath, his fingers tightening around his hair as if that could stop the thoughts running wild in his head.

He replayed the last few weeks in his mind—the constant teasing, the jabs, the way he’d brush off their efforts with a casual, "Oi, don’t be so useless." He never meant it. Not really. It was just how he talked, right? But now… Now, he couldn’t stop thinking about how it must’ve sounded to them.

How it must’ve felt.

He always thought MC knew he didn’t mean anything by it. They were just words, stupid little insults thrown out without thinking. It wasn’t like he actually thought they were useless. Hell, he was actually starting to like them—though he’d never admit it out loud.

Mammon groaned, flopping back onto his bed and staring up at the ceiling. Why did he always do this? Why did he push away the people he cared about, acting like they were some kind of nuisance when they weren’t? It was just… easier that way. It was easier to hide behind the tough guy act, to pretend like nothing bothered him. But it wasn’t true. It had never been true.

And now it was too late.

"I didn’t mean it," he whispered, his voice breaking in the quiet room. "I didn’t mean any of it..."

But what good did that do now? They were gone. MC was gone, and it was his fault.

Mammon’s heart clenched as he thought about all the times he’d made fun of them, all the times he’d called them a burden, a hassle. He’d acted like MC was just some human getting in the way of his plans, but the truth was that they had become more important to him than he’d realized.

He didn’t show it—he didn’t know how—but they mattered to him. They made him feel different, like he wasn’t just the "Great Mammon," the greedy demon who was always causing trouble. When MC looked at him, it felt like they saw something more, something better. And now? They were gone because of him.

Mammon kicked his legs out in frustration, his shoes thudding against the floor. How could he have been so stupid? Why did he always have to mess things up? He had the chance to make MC feel welcome, to make them feel like they belonged here, and he blew it.

And Diavolo’s words kept ringing in his ears. You failed them.

"Yeah, I know!" Mammon snapped at the empty room, his voice harsh with guilt. "I know I screwed up! I get it!"

He sat up suddenly, running his hands down his face in frustration. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. He was supposed to be their protector, their guardian. They were his pact holder, he was their first. He was supposed to look out for them, not drive them away. He hated that feeling—the helplessness that came with realizing he couldn’t fix this. He couldn’t just throw money at it or charm his way out like he usually did.

MC was gone, and it hurt more than he wanted to admit.

Mammon stood up, pacing his room. His mind raced, thinking of what he could’ve said or done differently. Maybe if he’d just told them how he really felt, if he’d stopped pushing them away and acting like they were a bother… Maybe they wouldn’t have left.

"I should’ve been better," he muttered, clenching his fists. "I should’ve told ‘em… I should’ve made ‘em feel like they mattered."

But he hadn’t. And now he was stuck with the gnawing regret that he might never see MC again. They were back in the human world, and they’d never want to come back to the Devildom, especially not after how he and the others had treated them.

He was the Great Mammon, sure. But what good was that title if he couldn’t even keep the one person who actually made him feel like he was more than just his sin?

With a choked sob, Mammon collapsed back onto his bed, staring at the ceiling as the tears began to fall.

He’d failed them. There was no getting around that. And the worst part? He’d never get the chance to make it right.

Leviathan

Leviathan sat in front of his monitors, eyes staring blankly at the paused screen of his latest game. His headphones sat around his neck, the usual buzz of online matches long forgotten. The quiet of his room wasn’t the kind he liked. It wasn’t peaceful or calming. It was suffocating.

MC was gone. Back to the human world. They had left without saying anything, without a word, without… him knowing. He hadn’t even noticed they were gone until the others started talking about it. And now that they weren’t here, the reality of the situation was starting to sink in.

Levi chewed on his thumbnail, anxiety swirling in his gut like an endless whirlpool. How could he have missed it? How could he not have seen what was happening right under his nose? His stomach churned with guilt as he thought about the way he’d treated MC since the moment they arrived.

Normie.

That was what he called them. Over and over again. He’d pushed them away, called them a nuisance, acted like they didn’t belong. He had no idea if they liked anime or games, but instead of giving them a chance to show they could understand his world, he had shut them out before they could even try. Why? Because they weren’t like him. Because they weren’t part of his world. Because it was easier to call them a "normie" and keep them at arm’s length than it was to let someone else get close.

Levi groaned, burying his face in his hands. He hated himself. Why did he always do this? Why did he always ruin things before they had a chance to be good? He had been scared—scared that MC would judge him like everyone else did, scared that they would see how awkward, how pathetic he really was. So he kept them away, treated them like some kind of animal when really… he had wanted them to be a part of his life.

They had tried. He could see it now, in hindsight. MC had tried to talk to him, had tried to get to know him, had actually listened to him when he'd rant. And what had he done? He’d dismissed them. Pushed them away. Called them human or normie—never their name—as if that was the only thing they could be.

He swallowed hard, guilt gnawing at his insides. If only he hadn’t been so wrapped up in his own insecurities, maybe things would have been different. Maybe MC wouldn’t have left.

But they did.

Levi curled in on himself, hugging his knees to his chest as the realization settled in. They were gone, and it was his fault. His fault for being too afraid to let them in, too scared to admit that maybe he wanted them around more than he’d ever let on. He hadn’t even realized how much he missed them until now, until the space they used to occupy in the house, in his life, felt empty.

And Diavolo’s words kept ringing in his ears. You failed them.

"Of course I did," Levi muttered, his voice thick with bitterness. "I always fail."

He had failed to be a good brother, failed to be a friend, and now, he had failed MC.

"They must think I hate them," Levi whispered, his chest tightening painfully. "They probably think I never wanted them around." His voice cracked, and he quickly wiped at his eyes with his sleeve, but it didn’t stop the tears that threatened to fall.

Because that wasn’t true. It had never been true.

Levi wanted them around—he had liked having them around. But how could they have known that when all he ever did was push them away, call them a normie, and act like they didn’t matter? He had been too caught up in his own head, too worried about them seeing the worst parts of him, to let them see the good.

Now they were back in the human world, far away from him, and he had no idea if they would ever come back. And if they did, why would they want to come back to him? The shut-in otaku who made them feel like they didn’t belong?

"Stupid," he muttered angrily, wiping his eyes again. "I’m so stupid…"

He stood up suddenly, pacing the room, his hands tugging at his hair in frustration. What if MC never came back? What if they decided to stay in the human world forever, away from all the pain and rejection the Devildom had offered them?

Levi’s heart pounded in his chest, panic rising as the what-ifs piled up in his mind. They were gone. And he didn’t know if he’d ever get the chance to tell them the truth, that he wanted them here, that he—needed them here.

But now it was too late.

With a deep, shaky breath, Levi sank into his tub, curling up again as his anxiety wrapped around him like a suffocating blanket.

It was always too late for him.

Satan

Satan sat in the library, the silence around him sharp and oppressive. The book in his hands remained unopened, his mind too preoccupied to focus on anything but the gnawing feeling of guilt twisting in his chest. MC had left. Gone back to the human world without so much as a word, without waiting for anything to change.

He ran a hand through his hair, jaw clenched tightly as Diavolo’s admonishment replayed in his head. You failed them. The words stung more than he expected, not because they were untrue, but because they were painfully accurate. He had failed them. They all had. And now the damage was done.

Satan wasn’t like Lucifer. He didn’t thrive on control or perfection, but failure still left a bitter taste in his mouth, especially when it was something that could have been prevented. He prided himself on understanding things—on reading people, situations, emotions. And yet, somehow, he had missed what was right in front of him.

I barely even acknowledged them, he thought bitterly, eyes narrowing as the realization sank deeper. When MC first arrived, they were just another part of the exchange program—an obligation. Someone he was forced to tolerate. He had never thought of them as more than that.

They had tried to speak to him on several occasions, asking questions, trying to understand the world around them. He had dismissed them each time. Not out of cruelty, but out of indifference. There were always more important things to focus on, more pressing matters in his mind. Books to read, knowledge to gather. What did it matter if a fragile human was feeling out of place? He’d barely given them a second thought, and now that they were gone, that indifference was coming back to haunt him.

Satan drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair, irritation bubbling just beneath the surface. He wasn’t angry at MC—not at all. He was angry at himself. He should have seen it. He should have recognized the signs. But instead, he’d brushed them off, barely looking up from his books when they entered the room. It was no wonder they had felt invisible. To him, they had been.

"How could I have been so blind?" he muttered under his breath, his grip tightening on the edges of his book.

His dismissive attitude had hurt them, but it wasn’t just the indifference—it was the frustration. The few times he had acknowledged MC, it had been with impatience. He’d grown annoyed when they asked questions, irritated when they didn’t immediately grasp the complex information he threw at them. He had expected too much from them. Expected them to just understand a world they’d only just entered.

I was unfair.

The admission grated on him, but it was the truth. He hadn’t given them the time or attention they needed. He had treated them like a distraction, like an inconvenience. And for what? Because they weren’t like him? Because they didn’t understand things as quickly as he wanted them to?

It was absurd. It was… disappointing. In himself.

Satan leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he rubbed his temples, trying to keep the anger in check. His temper was always there, simmering just beneath the surface, but this was different. This wasn’t the kind of anger he could lash out at. It wasn’t something he could destroy or control. This was guilt—a slow, burning guilt that twisted in his gut and left him feeling powerless.

I failed them, he thought again, the words echoing in his mind like a relentless chant.

They had left because of him. Because of the way he treated them, the way he ignored their presence. The diary had made it clear—MC felt like they didn’t belong, like they were a burden. And he had done nothing to change that.

He had let them slip away. And now they were back in the human world, far beyond his reach.

Satan stood up abruptly, pacing the library with sharp, determined steps. He hated this feeling—this powerlessness. He wasn’t like Lucifer, obsessed with perfection, but he wasn’t one to accept failure either. Yet here he was, unable to fix the mess he had helped create.

He stopped in front of a bookshelf, his hand hovering over the spines of the books. Usually, the smell of old pages and the promise of knowledge would calm him, would ground him. But now? It just felt hollow.

Books couldn’t solve this.

Knowledge couldn’t solve this.

For once, all the intellect in the world meant nothing. He had failed MC not because he lacked understanding, but because he hadn’t cared enough to try.

He closed his eyes, frustration boiling in his chest. "I should’ve done better," he whispered, his voice low and filled with regret. "I should’ve listened."

But it was too late. They were gone. And there was nothing he could do to change that.

For someone who prided himself on knowing so much, Satan realized now that he had understood so little. And that knowledge—more than anything else—cut deeper than any reprimand Diavolo could have given him.

Asmodeus

Asmodeus sat in front of his vanity, staring at his reflection. Normally, he would be admiring the flawless way his skin glowed, the way his hair framed his face perfectly, or how his latest outfit highlighted every one of his best features. But today, the usual spark wasn’t there.

MC was gone. They had left the Devildom and returned to the human world, and they hadn’t even said goodbye.

Asmo frowned, twisting a lock of hair around his finger as he glanced down at the collection of beauty products scattered across his vanity. How could they have left like that? Without saying anything to him? No farewell? No goodbye hug? They had just… disappeared.

And they didn’t even tell me?

That part stung. He was Asmodeus, after all. Everyone loved him. Why wouldn’t they want to talk to him, to tell him what was going on in their head before leaving? It wasn’t like he had been mean to them—he’d been nothing but fabulous! He’d complimented them, given them fashion tips, even helped them choose outfits when they were looking drab.

He huffed and crossed his arms, his eyes flicking back to the mirror. "I don’t understand," he murmured to himself, inspecting his perfectly manicured nails. "They could’ve at least told me if something was wrong."

But as he thought about it, something uncomfortable started to settle in his chest. He hadn’t exactly treated MC like someone who mattered, had he? They were just the new human, someone for him to toy with, to dress up like a doll, to show off. He had treated them more like an accessory than a person. Every compliment he gave was followed by a backhanded comment about how they could do better, how they could look more fabulous. He had made everything about their appearance—about how they looked, what they wore—without ever thinking about what they wanted, how they felt.

And that diary entry… the one about him.

“Asmo’s always commenting on how I look. I know it’s not personal, but it feels like all I am to him is an object. A pretty thing to dress up, but never good enough to really matter.”

Asmo’s heart clenched uncomfortably as those words echoed in his mind. They hadn’t been meant for him to read, but now that he had, he couldn’t stop thinking about them. MC thought they didn’t matter. That they weren’t enough for him.

That wasn’t true! He had thought they were cute from the start. Sure, they had a long way to go in terms of style and confidence, but he had liked being around them. In his own way, he had enjoyed their presence. He just… never said it. Never showed it beyond superficial praise.

Had he really made them feel like that? Like they were just some toy to be discarded when something more interesting came along?

He bit his lip, eyes dropping from the mirror. "I didn’t mean to make them feel that way," he whispered, a strange knot of guilt tightening in his chest. "I just wanted them to look their best, to be their best."

But that wasn’t really the point, was it? MC hadn’t needed someone to tell them how to dress or how to look. They had needed someone to tell them they belonged, someone to make them feel like they were important beyond appearances.

Asmo sighed, sitting back in his chair and staring up at the ceiling. He hated this feeling—this heavy, nagging sense of regret. It wasn’t like him. He was Asmodeus, the Avatar of Lust, the most beautiful being in the Devildom. People flocked to him for advice, for attention. Everyone loved him. So why did it matter so much that one human didn’t?

Because it wasn’t just any human. It was MC.

They had trusted him. They had spent time with him, laughed at his jokes, let him play with their hair and help them pick outfits. And what had he done? He’d brushed them off like they were just another pretty face, like they weren’t worth getting to know beyond the surface.

And now they were gone. And it was his fault.

Asmo twirled a ring on his finger absentmindedly, the usual sparkle of his jewelry doing nothing to lift his mood. "They probably think I never cared about them," he muttered, his voice soft. "And maybe I didn’t… at least, not the way they needed me to."

He hated admitting it, but it was true. He had cared more about how they looked than how they felt. He had been so focused on making them into something he could be proud of that he hadn’t stopped to think about what they needed.

And now they were back in the human world, thinking they were never good enough for him. Thinking they didn’t matter.

For the first time in a long time, Asmo wasn’t thinking about himself. He wasn’t thinking about how he looked or what outfit he’d wear tomorrow. He was thinking about MC—about how he had hurt them without even realizing it. And that guilt, that realization, clung to him like a weight he couldn’t shake.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the vanity and burying his face in his hands.

But it was too late now. MC was gone. And all the beauty in the world couldn’t change that.

Beelzebub

Beel sat at the dining table, staring blankly at the plate in front of him. His usual appetite was gone, a strange hollowness taking its place. The silence felt heavier than usual, and for the first time in a long while, food couldn’t fill the emptiness inside him.

MC was gone. They had returned to the human world. And he hadn't even cared that they had disappeared.

He ran a hand through his hair, his brow furrowing as the thought settled in. He hadn’t paid much attention to them, hadn’t really thought about them as anything more than a human—something fragile, something that he wasn’t supposed to eat. They were just there, part of the exchange program, someone to tolerate but not worth focusing on.

Beel sighed, glancing at the uneaten food on his plate. It didn’t make sense to him. Why did it feel like something was missing now that they were gone? He hadn’t been particularly close to them. He’d never really taken much interest in what they did or said. They were just… human. And humans were something he didn’t think about much, aside from the occasional urge to eat one. But even that wasn’t really a problem. He knew better.

But still, the fact that they were gone—it didn’t sit right with him.

He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest as he thought back to the few interactions they’d had. Whenever he saw them, he’d mostly been focused on food. Sometimes he’d make offhand comments about how they smelled different, or how they might taste good, but that was just the hunger talking. He didn’t mean it personally. He had never meant to make them feel uncomfortable.

But maybe he had.

He frowned, the knot in his stomach tightening. They were right. He hadn’t cared one way or the other. To him, they were just another face in the Devildom, another human who wasn’t supposed to be eaten. He’d never gone out of his way to talk to them or get to know them.

He hadn’t thought they mattered.

But maybe they did.

Beel sighed again, his large hands resting on the table as he stared at his empty plate. He hadn’t done anything to make them feel welcome, hadn’t shown any interest in them beyond his usual blunt, hunger-driven remarks. To him, MC had just been part of the background, something he didn’t need to think about.

But now they were gone. And the more he thought about it, the more he realized that maybe he had missed something important.

He had seen how the others treated MC—the teasing from Mammon, the indifference from Satan, the distance from Levi. He had heard the way Lucifer demanded more from them, how Asmo insulted them under the guise of advice. Beel hadn’t said much, hadn’t gotten involved, but he hadn’t done anything to stop it either. And now that he thought about it, that made him just as guilty as the rest of them.

"They must’ve felt so alone," Beel muttered to himself, his brow furrowing. "And I didn’t do anything to help."

He wasn’t sure why it bothered him so much now. Maybe it was because MC had been part of their lives for a while, and now that they were gone, there was a strange emptiness where they used to be. He hadn’t realized how much he had gotten used to seeing them around, hearing their voice, watching them navigate the chaos of the House of Lamentation.

But now that they were gone, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing.

Beel stood up, pacing the room slowly. He wasn’t like Lucifer or Satan, always thinking things through, always analyzing the situation. He didn’t think too deeply about the people around him most of the time. But now? Now he wished he had paid more attention. Maybe if he had, MC wouldn’t have felt so isolated, so invisible.

"They were more than just a human," he muttered, a pang of guilt hitting him. "But I never treated them like they were."

He hadn’t thought they mattered, and that was his biggest mistake. MC had been a part of their world, even if they were human. They had been right there, trying to find their place, and Beel had done nothing. He hadn’t meant to hurt them, hadn’t meant to make them feel like they didn’t belong—but his indifference had done that anyway.

And now, it was too late.

Beel stopped pacing, leaning against the wall and staring down at the floor. He didn’t know what to do with this feeling. It wasn’t like hunger—he couldn’t just eat something and make it go away. This was different. It was guilt, and it was heavy.

"I should’ve cared more," he whispered, his voice quiet in the empty room. "I should’ve made sure they knew they were welcome."

But they hadn’t known. And now they were back in the human world, far away from all of them.

Beel clenched his fists, frustration welling up inside him. He hated that they had left feeling like they didn’t matter. He hated that he hadn’t done anything to make them stay.

But what could he do now?

#obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me mc #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me lucifer #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me angst

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365granitegirlx · 3 months ago

Text

⋆˚₊ show me what you are ⋆˚₊

enemies with benefits vessel x f!reader

summary: you despise your friend of a friend vessel, and he despises you. but you quickly learn you have more in common that you ever thought.

7.4k words

tags, head's up, etc: SMUT, soft sub!vessel, soft domme!reader, lots of antagonizing one another, enemies to lovers, established enemies, casual arrangement, making out, idiots in lust, sexting, masturbation (m + f), praise, dirty talk, pet names (puppy, mommy), cockwarming, cowgirl, pronebone, squirting

a/n: I'm nervous about this one. I've been working on this before I started feeling depressed and I just want it out on the world. Also, in the (paraphrased) words of @rat-that-writes "he could never hate me. I'm too hot."

You’re minding your business at a cafe when he comes in. You lock eyes like you normally do when you happen upon each other. Blank, dead eyes. Face so flat it’s not even a scowl. Sighs. Vessel. A friend of a friend of a roommate of a friend. And a thorn in your side. Ok yes he’s very smart…and witty…and talented…but it doesn’t make him any less arrogant and annoying to be around. You two run in the same circles but that doesn’t mean you hang out. You just exist, for better or for worse, in the same space. No one could understand why you and him didn’t get along. You two weren’t so similar that it was grating, but you also weren’t so different that you were unable to find common ground. But there was something in the way of you two connecting. Of feeling anything other than hate.

You look back down at your book until you hear the chair across from you scrap across the floor and someone slump into it.

“I need you.”

You take a deep breath and pinch the bridge of your nose. You look up at Vessel and notice he’s staring at you expectantly.

“Say something,” he says somewhere between a plea and a demand.

“What are you talking about…you ‘need’ me?”

He looks down. “Uhm, well, you see…”

“Ves…spit it out.” You’re trying to keep your voice down as more people come into the cafe. Why couldn’t you have had this conversation at the party you both attended the night before?

“I…fuck. I have…needs and…”

“Oh Jesus Christ.” You roll your eyes and crack your neck. “It’s 10 am…”

“No, let me…finish. God. I…have needs and I don’t really…want to look far. To get them met. Do you understand? Uhm…I..”

Is he asking for…?

“Use your words.”

He doubles back a little and licks his lips. Why do his eyes look watery? “Yeah. Yeah I'll use my words. Uhm. I was wondering if you’d be interested in exploring something sort of…loose with me. No strings.”

You laugh out loud from shock. “Is this a sick joke?”

Oh his little heart breaks when you laugh. You can see it. His sweet face drops. “No…no oh my god. I would never joke about this. Look. Hear me out. I…hun I am desperate. I need to just…” he puts his hand to his forehead… “I need the companionship…and the release…but I don’t have it in me to look for a relationship. Not right now and perhaps never.”

This is the first time you’ve seen him vulnerable and quite frankly you could get used to it. There was something about his voice that was different. Calm. Normal. Sincere. But you still feel that pull towards aggression. Instigation. “And someone you actively despise and harrass is your top pick for a fuck buddy?”

“I know we argue a lot!” he barks back. You shift uncomfortably as a couple at a nearby table glare at you both. Vessel clears his throat and lowers his voice. “We don’t get along. And what I’m asking for is a bit much…maybe we just…pretend for a bit? Every once in a while?” He gulps and shakes his head. “I’m genuinely pathetic, I’m…I’m so sorry. I’m being a fucking knob.”

You cross your arms and consider what he’s saying. “So you’re asking to have some kind of…situationship with me…without ever trying to be nice to me first?”

He wipes his hand down his face and groans. “I…fuck it. Yeah I am. I am here groveling and asking you to sleep with me every so often so that maybe I don’t do my own head in. And, also, I just thought maybe…since you’re…pent up and shitty like me. Maybe you’d like to have some fun every once in a while? It would be mutually beneficial. Our mouths would be busy, eyes closed. Maybe we wouldn’t even know it was the other.”

You scoff. “What is that supposed to mean? Pent up…” you straighten in your seat. But you knew exactly what he meant. You were high strung a lot, and Vessel made an excellent target for your frustrations. How could two shit stirrers find any kind of solace with each other? But…you didn’t have any other prospects banging down the door (or you). You put your hands up in surrender. “Ok. Ok. I’ll bite. Yeah…fun would be nice…”

“Right…yeah, yeah. Because I get the impression it’s been a minute for you and…”

“Dude, come on!” You interrupt.

“Look,” he shakes his head and looks away, “you’re a nice girl when you want to be. And maybe if this arrangement is with you…someone I don’t really see often or whatever…” he finally looks you in the eyes.

That next Friday you’re in his flat for the first time. You sit on the couch awkwardly as he brings you some water and plops beside you. Ves bites the inside of his cheek. No one has really made any moves but first times are always awkward right? No matter what was going to happen tonight, it would be a first of some sort. The first time you’re nice to each other. The first time you really touch each other. “You look pretty.” He says sheepishly.

You look down at your baggy band tee and short yoga shorts. “Don’t lie to me.”

“My god just take the compliment. We’re here just trying to have a good time and…”

“Ok ok. Thank you…Ves…that’s sweet of you to say.”

He turns a bit more towards you, searching your face. His eyes trace your body head to toe as he tries to stifle a small smile. This was his idea and yet he still doesn’t want to show you how much he likes looking at you. Being around your pretty self. You suddenly start to feel nervous as he scoots closer to you. He curls his long legs up underneath him and gently touches your arm. You study his fingers like they’re some harmless little bugs before bringing your gaze back up to his face. He’s not ugly. No. You just never think about his looks because he’s so annoying to you. But here you both are, looking at each other in quiet fascination. Your breath hitches.

“Why me, Ves?”

“Why not you?” Vessel rolls his eyes and moves a little closer and puts his hand out tentatively near your thigh. You gulp, pulling his hand to rest on your smooth skin. His hand rubs gentle strokes against you and his breath deepens. “You feel so good. God.”

“Yeah?”

He bites his lip and looks at you so dreamily. You chuckle. The world stops for what feels like the hundredth time since you’ve gotten here. You feel your head spin a little as he looks at you with what you want to call “desire,” but how could you two ever feel anything other than disdain? Vessel clears his throat slightly. “You can back out…before everything changes…”

“Everything’s changed already, Ves.”

His hand moves up your thigh and squeezes, kneading your soft flesh. He hums contently when you move closer, nearly on his lap. You were wrong when you said everything had already changed. It actually changed the moment you two instinctively moved closer. Not a kiss, but a hug. At first it was tense. Like siblings being told to hug it out. But soon the awkwardness wasn’t the most distracting thing. It was how he felt to you. Sure he was lanky and toned, but he had a softness. A gentleness in how his arms pulled you close and enveloped you. It made you feel like the tiniest thing. And you could tell he enjoyed it and wanted to relax. As he loosened up, he held you closer. He breathed you in. You swear you could fall asleep until he drags cheek and nose up your neck…it reminded you of an animal scenting something. Or maybe he wanted your essence on him. He starts to speak in a barely there whisper and then clears his throat.

“May I, please, start kissing you?”

You gulp. The hug alone aroused you, and the thought of kissing him made you feel completely brainless. “Yeah,” you whisper thickly.

Vessel places small, gentle kisses in the crook of your neck, taking his time and breathing deeply between each peck. His lips are naturally pouty and feel so soft on your skin. He lets his lower lip drag up to your jaw before placing a delicate kiss right by your earlobe. You would say you don’t know what to do with your hands but they move on instinct. One gently squeezes his waist as the other traces lazy patterns on the back of his neck.

“I love how your nails feel on me,” he whispers. He sounds like a different person. He’s actually lost in you…and you would know because you’re lost in him. You let your hand drift up to his hairline where you begin to scratch his scalp. His head falls back; his eyes closed and lips slightly parted. You chuckle softly and move both hands to his hair. Eventually you’re in his lap but you’re hesitantly to really relax. “I’ve got you. Have a seat, love.”

You start to feel nervous and the nasty voice in your head that says you’re not worthy and perfect for this kind of situation gets louder. “Is it because I’m easy? Do you think I’m easy?” You blurt out. So many times you’ve been taken advantage of and it wouldn’t even surprise you if this was one of those times where you were in the right place and desperate.

Vessel’s eyes open, and he looks at you completely lost. He leans forward and helps you cross your legs around his waist. “You… darling…are one of the most difficult people I’ve ever encountered. It must really mean something if you’re here…in my flat…nestled on my lap. And I’m grateful. Thank you.” He begins kissing your neck again but with more fervor this time. More need. Your back arches as his kisses become wetter and his hands knead your plush thighs and ass. It’s no use. You give in to instinct and gently move his face to yours but you both stop. Your noses touch but the realization starts to set in. As quickly as you came together, you’re pulling apart.

“This isn’t the move, is it?” You ask, getting off his lap and smoothing your hair back.

Vessel inhales and rubs his face, groaning. “No. It was a mistake. Besides, you gave me that look.”

“What look?!”

“Oh don’t play dumb. You know the look. The one where you watch me flounder when you could help me.”

You scoff and stand up. “Wow you’re catching on. That’s how I always look at you.” You start to walk towards the door when you turn back to him. He hasn’t left his seat on the couch and doesn’t seem to care to do so. You’re not quite sure what you’re feeling. Arousal, but also annoyance at how quickly the mood changed. Certainly it was Vessel that ruined it, right? You feel that familiar stirring. To project. To rile him up and tear him down.

He stares back at you. “You’re as pathetic as me. Don’t forget that. You wanted this too. You probably still do.”

Him being both right and cruel about it ignites a white hot rage inside you. You want to scream at him

ask what you did to deserve this from him. To ask him why he makes himself so easy to hate. But instead, you leave.

...

A week later you’ve kept your weird interaction with Vessel in the back of your head but until then, you couldn’t give two dicks. It was the weekend. And it wasn’t like you to be at a bar like this. Metalheads. The hottest, tiniest goth girlfriends you’d ever seen. You felt out of place but your friends said “noooo we should go! It’s something different to do.” So you put on little black dress and Dr Martens and said “fuck it.” And you were glad you did because a new environment also meant new guys…and to your surprise you actually got some positive attention.

You found yourself chatting with a guy at the bar as you waited for your drink. He was friendly and handsome enough; you had the ugly thought that maybe he was one of those metalheads who had never actually spoken to a girl, but that was quickly forgotten when you started a thoughtful conversation about a series you both like. And it wasn’t one of those conversations where a nerdy guy dominates and info dumps and corrects you like a jackass. It’s just…enjoyable. He finally starts warming up to you a little and lets his hand graze yours, laughing at your reaction when a sludgier song comes on. You bite your lip and giggle a little, flirting with him saying, “maybe I need someone to help me appreciate metal a little more.” Your hands briefly touch again, and he leans a little closer…letting his free hand lightly touch your waist. You play coy and back up a little. It looks like he’s about to get his phone out before his eyes trail up and behind you. You’re wondering what he’s looking at until you feel a looming presence and a wide hand rub against your back and shoulder.

“There you are, gorgeous. I thought you’d forgotten about me.”

Your jaw clenches into a tight, fake smile. That accent. You look up at your uninvited guest.

“Hello, Ves. I’m sure I have no idea what you mean.”

The cute guy you were talking to looks confused and maybe a little sad. Fuck! You facepalm and groan as Vessel waves to him nonchalantly. “Heya…alright, mate?” His voice is dripping in sarcasm.

Your brain scrambles. “He just means I’d been up here for so long I forgot about the friend group” you say trying to save face. “Not just him. Definitely not.” Vessel squeezes your hip in feigned affection which makes the guy tsk, roll his eyes, and walk away. “Wait, I’m serious,” but he’s already gone. You scoff, ready to pummel Vessel who was easily a head taller than you and more than capable of overpowering you if you tried. You actually liked that guy and thought something was there.

“What the fuck was that?” You ask, eyes shooting daggers into Ves.

He snorts and shrugs. This is no big deal to him. “That guy was a loser.”

“So?! What do you care?”

“Oh come now, babes. You would have annoyed that bastard to death…he could have never kept up with you.” That shit eating grin. God you could just slap it right off of him. You know that he would leave you alone if you just…didn’t respond. Ignored him. But something kept telling you to egg him on. To react.

“You’re such a dick,” you say, rolling your eyes and walking away. You make it halfway across the bar when he grabs your arm.

“HEY! I came over to talk to you. Don’t walk away from me.”

“Wow, and how inviting you seem right now! Sabotaging my night and grabbing me. Is this the only way you can get girls near you?”

His brows knit together and he stands closer to you…so much so you’re looking straight up. “Sabotage? Did you like him that much? If you really, really wanted to go home with him tonight then why are you here with me? Also…” he leans down to whisper, “I didn’t have to do much pulling and prodding to get to you mine last week.”

“What the fuck do you want” you sneer. But you find yourself wanting to stay put. The warmth radiating from his tall form. His cologne. The intensity of his gaze. Your attempt at a makeout session last week suddenly replayed in your head very loudly. You snap back to reality when Vessel huffs with a terse laugh and looks away.

“I hate to say it but…I wanted to ask you something. Ask you…for something…again.” You search his face for understanding. He can’t even look you in the eye but you can tell he’s humiliated. Tail-between-the-legs humiliated. Little-boy-caught-by-mommy humiliated. The pause is heavy. The ambient noise in the bar fades away when he looks at you. He tries to find words but they aren’t coming. “Fuck. Never…never mind, it's stupid. Have a nice night” He lets go of your arm and storms away.

You’re left there with your jaw on the floor. Usually this tall arrogant nerd wouldn’t shut up giving you a hard time. Now he’s running away. Without thinking, you follow him outside the bar and call out.

“Ves, what the hell was that?” You hate to say it but you actually feel concerned. Like you have to finally put down your senseless grudge and actually talk to him. “Are you ok?”

He looks out down the street. It’s a busy Friday night. Folks bar hopping, getting Ubers, whatever people who like each other do downtown, but it feels like it’s just you two. Your eyes bore into him, and he finally looks down at you. Blankly, but at least he’s looking at you. “I know how we can make the…‘situation’ work.

“Oh? Other than bothering someone else?”

“Do you know what? This is your problem. You’re mouthy and always antagonizing to try to keep some hold over me…and I want all of it. I need you to keep being that way with me. Please.” His voice has dropped to a gravely murmur as his hands shake in clenched fists at his side.

You two stare at each other for a moment too long. It’s uncomfortably intimate. You’re having a conversation without speaking and it eats at you. You should not want this. Not again. Not him. “What do you mean?”

He fidgets. “Don’t make me say it.”

“Are you kidding? You’re really going to stand here and ask me for something again without defining any terms? Without playing your part in whatever this sick little thing is?”

“If it’s so sick then why are you blushing? You blushed like that when I kissed your neck in my flat. You’re like me. Come on.”

You cock an eyebrow, realizing slowly what he means. “You like this…don’t you? Being put in your place?”

“You haven’t actually done it yet, but…if you did…we’d all feel better. Even if for a brief moment. An hour. An evening. Just…please,” he takes on that same pleading…groveling tone again. He means it. “I can’t…for lack of a better word and I know it’s stupid but…I can’t ‘show up’ and turn my brain off if we’re…equals or something.. So please…where do I belong? Tell me.”

The idea that this…dummy who antagonizes you wants to submit to you breaks your brain. But wait.

“How did you even know to ask me about this, hm? Did you ask around…maybe even try to snoop on my socials?” Your voice isn’t harsh, but it isn’t gentle. Strict. Probing.

The way he looks down and rubs the back of his neck, which suddenly looks biteable, is adorable. He gulps. “I uhm…I’m sorry…but I..”

You bite your lip and chuckle as he shifts from one foot to another. A couple walks past and gives you both a once over, which makes you stand closer to him. If he wants to feel claimed, you can try. Being in his personal space where everyone can see.

“I uhm…I heard you talking not too long ago…about…” he lowers his voice “about subby guys and…well..”

“Wooooow….so… been eavesdropping, eh, bub?”

He opens his mouth and only a little whimper comes out. “I’m so sorry.” He keeps looking down, but you reach up and guide his chin so he looks at you.

“What a resourceful boy…” you say in a sticky sweet voice. “You were just dying to find something out to the point that you decided to sneak around? Was it fun? Little puppy sniffing around for clues…hm?”

Oh the blush that covers his face. The way his eyes sparkle. You know exactly when he overheard you wax poetic about submissive men to your friends at that party…because you knew he was there. You wanted him to hear…because you had your suspicions too. “Answer my question. Dig up your bones for me…did you have fun with your little secret mission?”

He breaths shakily and bites his lip. Finally he nods…and gives you a big cheeky grin. “Yes ma’am.”

“Eh don’t call me ‘ma’am.’ Makes me sound old.”

“Oh sorry sorry uhhh I don’t mean to…”

“Ves…my goodness…it’s ok. You didn’t know.” You chuckle softly and feel like you’re looking at him for the first time. “Don’t be hard on yourself. And that’s my first order for you.”

His back straightens a little and his pouty lips curl into a shy smile. “I can do that.”

“Good boy.” You can see his pupils dilate…his breath catch…his heart swell. Oh to be your good boy even though you despise him.

Something inside you has snapped. Suddenly this insane “mutually beneficial” arrangement excites you. Having casual sex with someone you don’t like in the name of “some fun” was ok, but seeing now that he was naturally submissive made your head spin. This you could work with.

“I will take a crumb. Honestly. Anything you’ll give me…even if this is the last time we talk about it and it falls through again…”

You put your hand up to stop him. “Stop that.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He winces when the word leaves his mouth.

You smirk and brush his hair back a bit. Your nails lightly scratching his forehead. He wants to purr. To roll his eyes back and feel your nails all over him.

“Look at you,” you whisper, letting your nails trail over his cheek. “Such a big baby. Aren’t you?”

“Let me take you home…please. Please…”

“No. Hmm. No, I don't think so. Not tonight.”

He pouts a little bit but nods. “Yeah…yeah ok.”

“Mhm…be patient for me. Can you do that?”

He nods and bites his lip. You can tell he’s excited. “When we’re not like…playing or whatever…you don’t have to treat me any differently. It can be our secret. As we were, yeah?”

You take your time with this. You two rarely see each other as it is and like hell you’d mess with him in front of others. So things develop over texting and the occasional late night phone call…but usually texting. Talking on the phone leads to tone policing. Arguments. It’s best to just keep things borderline anonymous.

Ves: are you too busy for me?

It was 10 pm. You were drinking wine in your underwear watching Scream. Technically, yes, you were busy. But you knew why he was texting and maybe it would be fun to indulge.

You: I guess not. What do you need?

The response is instant. He was waiting for you.

Ves: nothing really.

Ves: just wondering about you

You: what about me?

Ves: what you’re doing. what you’re wearing. if I’ll ever actually get to be your good boy. feels like you want me at arms length all the time. Is that part of the fun for you?

What seemed like a fun flirty conversation has now turned somewhat emotional. You sigh, desperate to get things back on track. As you try to formulate a response, you get…oh.

The video’s thumbnail is dark, but you open it anyways. You hear blankets rustling and music being turned down as it becomes clear what he’s sent you. He’s laying on his back in bed; the blanket is pushed down to right below his belly button. You’ve never seen him shirtless…and now that’s all you want to see. Yeah he works out but he looks soft. Kissable. You can imagine how fun it would be to kiss down his neck to his tummy, telling him how pretty he is…making him feel small and fuckable. He starts talking…you can tell he’s nervous.

“Maybe this is too needy…too pathetic…I don’t know” he strokes his free hand mindlessly up and down his stomach, “but you like this. Maybe you want me to act out. Just tell me…please… Do you want me like this? Desperate…completely stupid…” As his voice trails off, he moves his hand down to his blanket-covered waist and palms…

“Oh shit,” you whisper as the outline of his cock comes into view and he speaks again.

“I want you to want this…please…can I be needy for you?” The video ends just as he lets out a soft, breathy whimper.

You compose yourself…or try to…and respond.

You: look at you. Are you comfy in that big bed?

Again, the response is instant.

Ves: yeah but I’m lonelllyyyyy.

You: just pretend it’s me, sweetheart.

Ten minutes pass. Wait. Why are you sad he didn’t respond? Why do you care? Why…*ding ding*

Ves: ok, I did it. did I do good?🥺

Another text. A picture. What. A. Sight.

His hand concealed his now flaccid cock… but fully on show was his cum covered tummy. You choke back a moan and grasp your blankets. At this point you’ve forgotten who you’re texting and quite frankly you don’t care.

You: such a good boy 🐶 you’re a hot mess, aren’t you?

Crickets. Fucking. Crickets. You don’t hear from him for three days. You keep telling yourself it’s ok and not worth thinking about because you hate each other. It’s just mindless fun. Nothing personal. But then…it dawns on you. You’re technically in charge.

You: come over Ves: why? You: why do you think? be here at 8. don’t be a brat Ves: 🧎‍♂️🐶 see you at 8

Right on the dot, he’s there. You’re hoping this doesn’t end the way it did last time. Necking in his lap before you came to your senses. But the energy is different. He stands close to and studies your face.

“What should I call you? When we’re…you know?”

“What feels natural? Other than ma’am…” you chuckle. Aw. An inside joke.

He bites his lip and blushes. Why is he doing sweater paws with his hoodie? Such a slut.

“I can think of one but…” he stammers, “not quite brave enough yet to use it.”

“That’s ok.” Your hands drift up to his chest, where you start to play with drawstrings of his hoodie. “Let me get you some water…do you need a snack before we get started?”

He considers for a bit but shakes his head. “I can wait until you’re done with me”

You suppress a whimper. He’s in his subspace for you. Get it together. Also, easily entertained much?

All he said implied was that he’d need sustenance after whatever you do to him because you’ll use him for all he’s worth. Very normal! Not worth whimpering over! “Let me show you my bedroom.”

You gently pull let the hoodie’s drawstrings bounce as you let go of them. When you step inside your room he chuckles a little.

“Squishmallows eh?”

You give him a playful sneer, although any other time you would have laid into him. “Better get comfy with them if you want to do this.”

He’s already on the bed, shoes kicked off. He grabs one that looks like a shark and holds it to his chest. “Genuinely…your bedroom is really cozy. Thanks for having me over.” He says this as if it was any other conversation, but then he licks his lips a little. “I’m just going to lay here until you need or want me to do something. Is that ok?”

Well. You’re already straddling him before he can finish. “What have you been doing the past three days…hm?”

“I uh…” he stammers and looks up at you with watery puppy eyes. “Working. But…there were some things I didn’t do…”

“Yeah like talk to me.”

“Tsk. Stop. Just because we’re doing this doesn’t mean I’ve become a complete nympho. Honestly.” He rolls his eyes and looks away. “I was going to text you tomorrow anyways. I haven’t touched myself since that night we texted…haven’t…” he shifts under your weight and you feel a slight throb.

“Oh…is three days a long time for you? Hmm?”

He chuckles a little and squeezes the shark. “It’s…” he snorts when he laughs and hides his face. You move his hands and he chuckles a little more. What a beautiful sound. You realize you could recognize it anywhere and be better for it. “Yeah yeah yeah. It's been a long time for me. It’s usually everyday. Twice.”

“You gave up…six orgasms…for me? Of your own free will?”

“I wanted to do eight, gorgeous. I really did. But you texted and…”

“Well who said you were cumming tonight?”

He takes a deep breath and his eyes roll back a little. “My mistake.”

“No no no.” You lean down and kiss his forehead. “You did the right thing. Saving yourself up for me.” Your kisses trail down to his jaw. Fuck his soft and smooth. You gently nip at his earlobe and chuckle softly as he whines with pleasure. “You know what you are?”

“Hmm?” He lets out hazily.

“A good boy. A good puppy. Coming when called. Obeying.” Your nose trails against his and you think for a second that this will be a repeat. You two will snap out of it. But he squirms again and pouts.

“I can be so good…please…”

“I’m not even doing anything to you yet…”

He groans as you slide off him and start palming his crotch.

“Do you know how many times I got off thinking about that video you sent me?”

His cock bobs against your touch as he groans pathetically. “N-no…no idea. It wasn’t much…”

You start to stroke him. Oh he’s needed this. His hips buck up into hand as he white knuckles the stuffed shark. Mumbled pleas fall from his pretty lips as you ask him what he’s hiding in his sweats. Your fingers slide under his waistband. His moans are whiny and whimpering.

“Such a puppy.”

You slide his sweats and underwear slowly…just enough to free his cock. You gasp aloud. “Oh my goodness…Ves…look at you. Look. HEY.” You snap a bit to get his attention. His head is lolling back and you haven’t even touched his uncovered cock yet. “I said to look.”

He looks down and groans again as your manicured hands stroke him. You bite your lip and think about how exquisite it’ll feel inside you. The shark squishmallow is put to the side, and he comes up on his elbows. “Mmm..mm…your hands are so pretty. S’soft. Fuuuuck.” Your strokes are gentle and steady. His hips buck to control the pace but you gently flick his tummy.

“Good boys don’t take.”

He pouts and settles into your bed. He seems to be enjoying himself. His legs twitching, his moans coming more often than not. But you wanted to play. You wanted his brain off. For now he was yours. You stop stroking. “Ves. Look at me.”

He whimpers when you stop and raises his head. The whimper turns into a strangled sob as the long string of spit from your lips coats the head. Your slow, teasing, wet strokes make his face contort like he’s sobbing. “Fffffff….uuuuCK! M-m-mmmm…mommy please.” You freeze and look up at him.

“What was that?”

His face is all panic. “Oh my god oh my god no I’m sorry. It just slipped out…I’ll…fuck…no I’m so sorry.”

You lean forward and shut him up with a tender kiss on the lips. You allow his hands to trail over your ass and breasts, letting his touch linger a bit too long over your nipples. When you pull away, he’s blushing like crazy with hazy, dreamy eyes. “You’re such a good boy,” you whisper.

“T-thank you…mommy.”

You slip out of your clothes and relish in his gaze. For the first time you don’t feel like he’s here to be your biggest critic…and you don’t need to mouth off to him. He looks at you with a dopey little grin. “Are you going to use me?”

You chuckle softly as you straddle him again. “You could say that. Make you my little boy toy. Would you like that?”

His whimpering keeps him from answering, probably because you’re teasing the head of his cock with your already wet pussy. “God…please use me. Please…it’s what I’m good for…I’ll make you so happy mommy I promise…please!!”

You blush and forget yourself for a bit when he brings one of his hands to his face. He looks adorable. He needs to be held. He needs kisses. “Give me a hand, puppy. Hold yourself still.”

He reaches down and holds his cock as you slide down. He hisses in pleasure and whines as you moan from the stretch. You grasp his chest as his cock disappears into your pretty pussy, your head thrown back and mouth wide open. Vessel’s breath is coming hard and fast as he touches you. He’s bottomed out inside you and he doesn’t dare move. You haven’t told him to. He needs to be good. The past three days won’t have been worth it if he fucks this up.

You reach back and pat his thigh. “Bend your legs, puppy.”

“Yeah…yeah ok…” he groans out as he obeys. One hand holds his waist while the other trails under his hoodie. He whimpers and bites his lip as you toy with his nipple.

“Lift your hoodie.” He lifts it only to expose his stomach but stops there. You tsk and pull it up so his chest is uncovered…mmm. “Look at my pretty boy…” you whisper as you kiss across his chest. You take in the warmth and natural scent of his skin…how he tastes under your little licks across his nipples…the texture of his skin between your teeth. A delicious chain reaction occurs when his cock throbs hard against you after leaving teeth marks on one of his pecs. “You’re being so good. I didn’t even have to tell you what to do.”

He looks at you hazily. You’ve only been cockwarming him, and he’s already empty headed. He nods dumbly but then yelps when your pussy clenched around him.

“Tell me what you thought about that night…when you made the video.”

He gulps and holds you close to his chest. His cock is buried in your tight pussy but he doesn’t dare move.

“I..heh…I thought about being your seat. Your human mattress.”

You kiss and suck on his neck, admiring the red marks already decorating him. “Oh? You like being squished?”

“I thought about something like this. But you’re…you’re fucking me. You lay on my dead weight and then…” his cock throbs inside you and he whimpers.

“Shh I know,” you kiss his temple and nuzzle his face gently. “It feels so fucking good, huh? You like being under me like this?”

“Mhmmm…so safe…mm soft…fuck!” He holds on to you like he did with the shark plushie, his fingers pressing into your flesh desperately. He grits his teeth as he throbs inside you and whines. “Y-y-you’re so…tight. What the fuuuuuck.”

All this time you’ve been covering his face with kisses, grabbing his chin every time he tried to hide from your affection. His heels dig into your bed as he tries to keep himself from squirming and fucking you.

“Can you be still? Hm?”

“Ye…yeah. Yeah sorry…you just…aahhhh fuck…”

“Use your words, Vessy.”

His eyes roll back and his back arches slightly. “Don’t call me that…makes me feel little…”

“I do have you pinned down…don’t I? You’re the one squirming.”

His eyes are glassy as he pouts. “Are you enjoying this? I…I…don’t feel like you are…”

You consider this for a second.

“I don’t want to keep going if you’re not…” His eyes are desperate. “You need this too…fuck…please tell me you need this. You want this right? Please I’ll make you feel so good…if you just bounce on it a little. Please please…I’ll be such a good boy. You can lay on me and…and…I’ll just be a toy. I can take it…let me show you.”

You don’t even realize you’ve started fucking him. Your hips roll gently, and he lets out an almost pained moan. His hips meet yours and your eyes roll back.

“Fuck…puppy…” your head and vision go a bit fuzzy as he bucks into you and…oh dear.

“Shit shit shit…I’m…I’m sorry…I’m cumming…baby…baby…” he bites his lip and looks up for reassurance as his hands mash you down further on his cock. He hates that he came so fast, it’s clear, but fuck it feels good.

“It’s ok…cum for me…” you whisper.

He lays back and catches his breath. You don’t move…his spent cock still trembling in your pussy. He whimpers pathetically.

“What’s wrong?” You ask. He’s clearly not just coming off his high.

“Fuck I just….” He closes his eyes. “That’s so embarrassing. We barely did anything and I just…came like a fucking virgin. Go ahead.” He covers his eyes with his arm, “make fun of me. Tell me how pathetic I am.” Wow. He already wants to go back to normal.

“No. I don’t think I will.”

You’re still on top of him. Cockwarming him. You gently move his arm and look at him softly. His lips twitch. Not to kiss you, but to try and smile.

“You feel nice on me,” he whispers. “I really like your body. Even…even before we started this. Thought you were pretty.”

You chuckle a little and rest your chin in your hand. “Not sure why.”

He rolls his eyes. “Do you know why I hate you?”

You shake your head and let out a little laugh.

“It’s because you’ve made me realize I don’t have to be miserable. That I could be someone to someone else. But that requires…change. Taking care of my…stupid self. Being better. I can’t have you. You don’t want me as I am. Honestly. I’m a wreck. It’s better for you to hate me and only see me as a plaything.”

His hands trace lazy patterns on your back. How strange it is to have this conversation while he’s inside…but that doesn’t bother you as much as his confession does.

“Vessel. Jesus. I…Ves…I can’t stand you because you’ve never been nice to me. And now you’re saying it’s because you like me too much, yet not enough to get over yourself?”

He winces and sniffs. “It would be easier, getting over myself, rather than trying to not feel something for you.”

You move his face so he’s looking at you again. “Do you want to leave,” you ask. “You don’t have to stay longer than you want.”

Ves cups your face and tries to steady his breathing. “No. No, I don't want to leave. I want to stay and pretend I’m not me for just a little while. Is that ok?” You stare at each other…your breathing syncs…your eyes search other’s face. He strokes your face and purrs softly as his cock begins to stiffen again. Each time it throbs, you whimper, which in turn makes him chuckle softly. His hand slides down to your ass. “I need you. You’re the only one I want to…be with like this.”

“You don’t want this with someone you love.”

His eyes bore through you. He huffs and bites his lip, leaving an indention you swear would break skin. “May I please…may I please fuck you again? Properly. The way you deserve.”

You gasp softly and nod. “Would you like to be on top, puppy?”

His inhale is shuddering and sharp as he nods dumbly. You slide off him and lay beside him on your stomach. Ves seems confused.

“A-a-are you sure? From behind?”

You nod and beckon him closer. He slides off his sweats but you tell him to keep the hoodie on. “How hard are you for me?”

Leaning against you between your legs, he lightly taps his cock on your ass. It’s heavy and feels warm against your curves. He kneads your plush ass and whines a little. “So lucky…I am such..a…lucky…fucking…boy….fuuucckkkk.” He presses into your gushy pussy with a long, pathetic moan. You press against him, and his grip on your hips becomes shaky. “GOD you’re so hot….fuuccckkkkkk.”

You chuckle and moan as he thrusts gently…just trying to create some friction without completely losing his mind. He leans down and you feel the draw strings of his hood tickle your back. You reach behind you.

“What is it?”

“Come here, puppy,” you whisper softly. When he does you’re able to grab the drawstrings…anything to keep him in place. Leash him. Your fingers grip the collar of his hoodie now, and he collapses into you. “You going to be good? Stay right here for me, hm?”

He can’t even speak…he just lets out whimpers and moans that sound like sobs. You can only gasp with each thrust as he blubbers about it feeling “so..so..so..fucking good.” He whines into your shoulder as you pull him closer but the hoodie. “Please…let me…let me touch…please…”

“Mhm…” you let out weakly as he ruts into you. His hand trails down and under you towards your clit. You buck back into him as his nimble fingers find your clit. Cumming on your tummy never came easy, but with an eager lover, you think now it could happen. No matter who’s fingers it was rubbing your puffy clit between his fingers.

“Mm…baby…baby let me bad. Please I know…i know…i know… I’m good boy but please let me bad…”

You grip your pillow and groan as your pussy quakes around his long cock. He takes this and your slutty, high pitched moan as consent. He takes your wrists in one hand and grips them roughly. You would be concerned about bruises if you weren’t seeing stars from the way his cock’s head rubs against your g-spot. He lets out something like a growl as he fucks you faster and harder. You’re mashed into the bed and cumming for the second time as he grabs you tight and bites your shoulder. You yelp and moan pathetically.

“Ves you’re so bad….you’re so…fucking naughty….” You’re cumming again as you lift your ass like you want him to mount you even deeper. He takes a break just to feel your orgasm squeeze him and to catch his breath. You let go of his hoodie, and he quickly rips it off. A sharp spank lands on your ass…he hisses with pleasure as he watches the skin of your ass cheek pinken before he lands another on you.

“May…may I roll you over…please” he asks as he pulls out of you and rolls you over. It’s almost adorable how he toes the line between the asshole you know and a precious submissive boy. He spreads your legs, putting one up against his chest as he presses his cock back into you. One hand grasps your tummy and the other holds your ankle for leverage. “You’ve ruined me…” he moans as your name falls from his lips. Over. And over. And…over. He nibbles and kisses your ankle as he presses hard on your squishy lower tummy. His gasps come hard as it’s quite clear he’s reaching his limit.

“Ves…you’re gonna make me…fuck…I’m…”

“That’s it. Please…I want to see it…I need it…you’re so …ffffucking gorgeous….” he grabs you harder and rams into you with a powerful groan, his eyes wild as he exhales and bites his lip. “You’re…you’re going to cum…so….FUCKING hard on me…you won’t be able to cum again without thinking about me…Fffffuuuhhh”

His face contorts as his second orgasm ripples through his entire body. The thrusts become short, hurried bumps against your pussy as your back arches. You begin to rub your clit in rough, hurried circles as he fucks his cum hard into you. His eyes are misty as he mumbles about what a pretty angel you are…how good you’re taking his dick when…oh god…

A few moments later, he’s pulled out of you, looking down at the mess you made. You had never…ever squirted. And this…well…Vessel did that. You had no energy to hate. To be mean. Everything was different now. “I…wow…”

“Ever done that before?”

You lay back and catch your breath, wiping your watering eyes, shaking your head. “No…so…thanks I guess.”

He rubs your thighs and chuckles. “You’re amazing. Do you know that?”

You smile up at him and chuckle.

“Christ, what?”

“You’ve ruined it.”

“Oh…fuck off..ruined what?” He laughs and runs his fingers through his hair.

“My plans to die alone and hate you forever…thanks a lot.”

“Likewise, sweetheart.”

#sleep token fanfiction #vessel smut #sleep token vessel #sleep token smut #vessel x you #vessel x reader #vessel x reader smut #sleep token x reader #save me fruity british boy #wolfie's squeaky toy #wolfie's scribbles

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freedomfireflies · 2 years ago

Note

hi! can i get a stiles blurb?? maybe injured and angsty? 😭

“Ow…ow…ow…ow, motherfuck—shit.”

You feel your eyes roll as you help the dramatic and rather needy patient settle onto your bed. “Baby, I told you to stay home—”

“Yeah, and I said no fucking way,” Stiles retorts quickly, huffing a stray hair from his eye before flopping onto the mattress. “See? I’m fine.”

You release him and step back, arms crossing as you offer a teasing scowl. “Right. A wrist brace and an angry letter from Coach are a clear indication of you being fine.”

To this, he waves his right arm into the air, the dark bandage wrapped around his hand not as intimidating as he had made it out to be. “It’s just a sprain, okay? Not a big deal.”

“Yeah, okay. Is that why you were crying?”

His expression falls. “I was not crying. I was just disappointed for my team cause they’re gonna miss me.”

“Uh-huh. So, what’s with all the ow-ing?”

He blinks. “I wasn’t ow-ing, I was just…I said wow. You know, like wow, get a load of that ass.”

You so badly want to scoff at him, but you feel the flush in your cheeks as he smirks victoriously, reaching his good hand out to loop around your hip and pull you onto the bed.

He noses under your jaw, lips ghosting just below your ear as you feel your breath hitch. “Missed you,” he murmurs softly, his mischievous intentions now abundantly clear. “Did you miss me?”

Your lashes fall shut as his mouth travels down the curve of your throat. “Did I miss the constant bad jokes and sarcasm? No. No, can’t quite say that I—”

His teeth find your skin, pulling deviously as you gasp. You feel him grin to himself as his fingers slip beneath the hem of your top and for just a moment, you forget why you were so peeved with him in the first place.

“What was that?” he asks when you whimper at the practiced way his palm sweeps across your hip. “Did you say something?”

“I…you…this isn’t…” You aren’t making any sense and you’re so furious with yourself for letting him distract you like this. “Stiles…Stiles—”

“Yes, Princess?”

You swallow. He’s a sadistic prick for using the one nickname you can’t help but fold to. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” His head rolls, tongue traveling up your pulse point as his hand moves up toward your chest. “Isn’t this what you wanted? Isn’t this why you called me over?”

Your fingers scratch down the soft brown hairs at the nape of his neck, knees deep in the mattress to brace yourself as you straddle his waist. “No, I…I called you over so I could…so I could take care of you—”

“You are,” he nearly purrs. “Promise you are. Always take care of me. Make me better. S’making me better right now. To feel you. To hear you—”

“Stiles—”

“What? Don’t you want me to get better?” The rough pad of his thumb brushes over your nipple as you swallow a gasp. “Hm?”

“I…” You exhale a shaky breath despite yourself, working desperately to find a response. “You…I just—”

“Words, Princess.”

But you don’t have any words. You don’t even have any thoughts in your head as you feel his touch travel down your stomach and toward your sweatpants, slipping beneath so casually that you could be fooled into thinking this was always his plan.

Which…to be fair, it probably was.

“Stiles,” you try again, a strained whisper as you bury your face in his neck. “Please…”

You hear him chuckle. Feel it, too. And you’d roll your eyes if it were any other moment, but he knows you. And he knows exactly how to play you like a fucking violin. You’re nothing but his toy and this is proven when he leans back to meet your eye.

“Say it,” he demands, fingers still just below your belly button. So close yet infuriatingly far. “Say it…and I’m all yours.”

You roll your lips into your mouth, your brain fighting your body on what it wants versus what it needs. “You…thought you were meeting Scott—”

“He can wait.”

You swallow a whine at the resolution in his voice. His determination to put you first. “You need to rest. You need to get better—”

“I am.” He leans closer, eyes falling to your mouth as you struggle to remain indifferent. “This is how I get better.”

“Stiles—”

“What?” He pulls his lip between his teeth to suppress his smirk. “Come on, Princess. Thought you wanted to take care of me. Yeah?”

Your eyes close as you nod faintly, his nose brushing yours as your walls begin to fall. You know the rest of the group is waiting for him. Know the doctor told him to take it easy. Know that he has plenty of other things to do besides you.

And yet knowing does absolutely nothing to stop you from grinding down into his touch.

He murmurs something under his breath you don’t catch. But it sounds desperate and excited and your stomach churns.

“Say it,” he whispers again. “Say it, baby, come on. Please say it.”

Your chest begins to heave. Your dad will be home in half an hour, and he already forbid you from seeing Stiles once and you don’t imagine you want him to do it again and you really need to get off of him and take him home and tell Scott he’s on his way and tell his dad that he’s okay and make sure Coach isn’t too upset and—

“I need you,” you hear yourself say before you can stop it. “Please…please, Stiles. I just…I need—”

He kisses you. Finally, and fervently, and it’s everything you’ve wanted since the moment he climbed through your window fifteen minutes ago and crashed to the floor.

And he’s everywhere. You know nothing else but him and his fingers and his touch as he makes your cunt his personal plaything. As he tastes you, as he talks to you, as he lays you down on your stomach so he can ruin you from behind.

And with your face buried into the pillow and his tongue buried in you, you realize maybe he was right.

He makes you better, too.

~ Full Masterlist

~ Other Dylan Blurbs

#dylan #dylan o'brien #dylan obrien #dylan o'brien one shot #dylan o'brien request #dylan o'brien imagine #dylan o'brien blurb #dylan o'brien smut #dylan o'brien fan #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski smut #teen wolf #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles stilinksi smut #stiles stilinksi fanfiction #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stilinksi #dylan o'brien x you #dylan o'brien x reader

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entitled-fangirl · 9 months ago

Text

Two idiots in love. (P4)

Joel Miller x anemic!reader

Summary: Joel and the reader continue to navigate their feelings for each other, but it starts to become more and more clear as time progresses.

Warning: blood, guns, death, cursing

Masterlist

Parts 1, 2, 3, 5

..................................................................

Ellie walked out of the building to join Joel and Y/N.

Joel was knelt down by a car, his hands prying at the gas cap. Y/N was leaning against said car, and the two seemed to be arguing.

"Joel, please. I can help you sometimes…"

"No. You don't need to be doing any of this stuff. Bad for you."

Siphoning another car.

Ellie sighed as she neared, "We have to do this every hour?"

The two peaked their heads up at her.

Joel calmly explained, "Gas breaks down over time. This stuff's almost water. Back in the day, we'd drive, 10, 12 hours on one tank. You could go anywhere."

She nodded, "So where'd you go?"

Joel looked up at her again, finally rigging up the tubing. "Pretty much nowhere." And he brought the tube to his mouth.

He blew into one tube, making gas come out of the other and into their small fuel tank.

Ellie smiled, "Nice! How does that work?"

He tilted his head back and forth, "It's a siphon."

Ellie looked confused, and Joel realized he needed to dumb it down a bit.

Y/N smiled as well. Joel was such a patient man.

"It's when liquid travels against gravity," he looked a bit confused, "…because pressure…"

"You don't know."

Joel became defensive, "I know it works."

Ellie turned away, walking towards another car.

Joel reprimanded, "No wandering."

The girl sighed, "Okay." And set on the hood of the closest car. "This is your fault then."

Y/N laughed as Ellie pulled her joke book out of her bag, watching Joel become more annoyed at each joke.

…

"Alright. I think that's enough for today."

Joel turned the truck off the road and into the forest.

Y/N got out carefully, and moved to the bed of the truck to get the small camping grill Bill had left them.

Joel stopped her, "I'll get it, sweetheart."

He set it on the ground where they would make their camp.

She smiled, "Well, you get us unpacked, and I'll make dinner?"

He considered her proposal, "Alright."

…

The two adults watched Ellie eat her food with an animalistic speed.

"Slow down," Joel reprimanded.

"This IS slow."

Y/N smiled with a small chuckle.

Ellie finally slowed down, "What am I even eating?"

Y/N finally spoke up, "That is 20 year old Chef Boyardee ravioli."

"Well, that guy was GOOD."

Joel grimaced, "I actually agree."

The silence ensued until Ellie spoke up, "Can we start a fire though? I'm freezing."

"Now, why am I gonna tell you no?"

"Because infected will see the smoke…"

Y/N spoke up again, her plate untouched, "…no. That's not it at all…"

Joel nodded, "Fungus isn't that smart. This is too remote for Infected anyway."

Ellie gulped slightly, "…People?"

Joel just gave a look, but it was enough to tell her she was right.

"So, what are they gonna do? Rob us?" Ellie scoffed.

Joel stared down at his food, "No. They'll have way more in mind than that." He glanced over, seeing Y/N's untouched plate, "Eat."

She sighed slightly, "I… I'm not that hungry."

He straightened his shoulders, his voice becoming demanding, "Eat, Y/N."

She shook her head. She didn't mean to be defiant, but she couldn't bare to eat food at the moment.

Joel set his plate down. She knew his tone well. He was angry, but trying to mask it for her. "Sweet girl…"

But she stopped before he could continue, "Joel, really. Please don't push it."

He stared at her for a while before nodding, going back to his food.

…

Joel and Y/N woke up early, under the same covers as they always did. Joel began to pack up as Y/N offered to start a small pot of coffee.

Joel took the offer, running a hand over Y/N's messy hair. He took note of her puffy eyes from sleep and the sweet smile that she wore.

He wished he could hold that picture forever.

They began their duties, as made quiet small talk to avoid waking Ellie. "Joel..?"

Joel turned to look at Y/N over his shoulder, "..Yeah?"

"Somedays I wish I had your accent…"

Joel actually smirked at the woman. God, she was a treasure. "My accent?"

"Yeah. You have this accent. I don't know. I like it, I guess."

He nodded, unsure of what to say.

So, she continued, "I think I just like your voice. It's… soothing. I don't think the accent would sound as nice with me."

Joel just let her talk. She hadn't spoken this much since Bill and Frank's.

"…I wish I could've met you before all of this…"

This made the man stop packing. "…what?"

"I.. well… you know? What you were like and… what you did, what you wore, how you talked. What you were like with your daughter…."

Joel was unmoving. He was thankful his back was to her, or she would've seen the expression on his face.

"…Can't I be a little curious?"

He sighed. Of course, she could be. He would tell her anything in the world her heart desired if she asked.

Finally, he spoke. It was slow and calculated, "You can be."

"Do you think we would've been friends? Our old selves?"

This woman would be Joel's end. And he would love her for it.

He finally turned to look at her. She sat on the ground next to the pot of coffee. Her big eyes staring back up at his in concern for his answer.

He sat in the silence for a moment as he thought of what to say. He settled on, "…you wouldn't have liked me." And he moved back to the truck to pack.

She tilted her head, "You don't know that."

He spoke over his shoulder, "I do. And I don't even know why you're around me now, if I'm being honest."

She misinterpreted him, her eyes saddening, "Well… do… Do you not want me here?"

Joel immediately turned around with wide eyes and slight panic. His voice hardened, "That's not what I said. And don't say that ever again."

She was thrown off by his sudden defense. It confused her, "…but you said.."

"You're not leaving. I won't let that happen."

A nod and a confused look was all Joel got from the woman in front of him.

She stood up, walking her bag to the truck. She stood next to Joel, and placed the bag in the bed.

They said nothing. They weren't sure if there was anything to say.

Joel finally sighed, turning to her. He reached up with one hand, placing it on the bag of her head, letting his fingers play with the strands of hair, "Listen, sweet girl. I only meant-"

"What the fuck is that?"

Ellie interrupted the two.

Joel sighed as he dropped his hand and looked over to Ellie, "You don't like coffee?"

Y/N sighed at the lost moment, her shoulders slumping.

…

Ellie woke up in the backseat as Y/N muttered road names under her breath to Joel as she stared at a road map. Joel would only nod or hum lightly at the names.

Ellie thought it was strange, their little secret language to each other.

But she only opened her eyes when she felt the truck stop.

They were at the outskirts of an abandoned city.

And the underpass needed to keep driving was blocked by a semi truck that had crashed.

"Stay put." Joel muttered as he got out with his gun to investigate.

Ellie took this time to get caught up. "Where are we?"

Y/N looked over her shoulder, "Kansas City."

Ellie nodded, "So, you and Joel are..?"

Y/N sighed, "You heard us this morning?"

"Yeah. I think he likes you a lot."

The woman leaned back in her seat. "Doesn't matter, Ellie. You shouldn't get too attached to people. They always die."

"But Joel-"

"-I said, it doesn't matter." Her voice grew pleading, "Don't get too attached to us, Ellie."

The girl knew she didn't really mean that.

Joel got back into the truck, his hand reaching out for the map in Y/N's hands.

Ellie noticed the way their fingers grazed each others. "So how far back do we have to go?"

Joel stared at the map, tracing potential roads until he sighed. He gently set the map down in Y/n's lap. "Screw it."

He turned the truck around, driving through the city to get back on the highway.

But half way through, he cursed under his breath, "Where the fuck is the highway?"

Y/N hummed, "I'm turned around now. Just… give me a second."

Joel spoke up, "Don't look at the state map, hon. Look at the inset."

"Either way, I'll still be confused."

She spoke under her breath, trying to figure it out.

Joel turned, "It's gotta be the right…"

"STOP!"

Joel hit the brakes at Ellie's plea.

A man was in front of the truck, holding his side, "Please! Help me!"

Y/N's head perked up at the cry, "Joel…?"

"Put your damn seatbelt on."

Ellie stared at the man, "Aren't we gonna help him?"

"No."

And Joel hit the gas, making the man jump out of the way.

Y/N noticed the person on the roof of the next building, their feet kicking at a barrel.

And it fell towards the truck.

"JOEL!"

Joel tried to swerve, but couldn't avoid it.

It hit the windshield.

It made Joel blind to the row of nails that now pierced the tires.

The truck swerved, crashing into a building harshly.

Joel immediately reached out for Y/N, his hand on the back of her head like earlier, but in a more panicked state, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah."

"You're not hurt or nothin?"

"… I don't know…"

When Joel pulled his hand away from her head, it came back slightly red with blood.

"Shit."

Y/N noticed the blood too, looking at Joel with a worried expression.

He wanted to comfort her, but the bullets that pierced the truck reminded him of the situation.

"Belts off. Get out."

Ellie and Y/N got out on the passenger side, blocking themselves from the bullets.

Joel followed suit.

He reached into the backseat through the window, grabbing his gun.

He turned to the girls, "You see that hole over there?"

They looked over to the hole in the wall.

"Can you squeeze through?"

Y/N only stared.

"When I say go, you crawl to that wall, and you squeeze through and you don't come out until I say, okay?"

A bullet broke one of the windows.

"And they're not gonna hit you."

Joel noticed Y/N's wandering gaze. He wanted to be soft, but he was too panicked to go so. "LOOK AT ME!"

She did.

"They're not gonna hit you. Take Ellie with you."

She stopped, "but I can't leave you."

He took her jaw in one hand, "You sweet, sweet girl. I'm gonna be fine. Let me worry about you. Stay down, stay low, and you stay quiet."

She knew not to argue.

"Alright. Go."

And with that, the two girls crawled to the hole in the wall with determination. Joel peaked over the top of the truck bed to shoot back.

He made sure the two got through.

He shot one easily, but another man was still out there. And judging by his taunts, he was enraged.

Silence.

Ellie and Y/N only stared at each other with wide eyes. Unsure of Joel's safety.

A gunshot.

Y/N couldn't help it. She just barely peeked out from the hole to check.

Joel stood tall, the end of his gun smoking just slightly.

He reached down to reload.

And it was jammed.

The door opened and a young man stepped out, ready to fight.

Joel was too.

Y/n heard the sound of rustling and the occasional grunt from a hit.

She wasn't sure who was winning.

But she was going to make sure it was Joel.

She stepped out while the man had his back to her.

Joel noticed and his eyes widened.

When the man saw Joel's gaze, he followed it. To which Y/N threw a heavy punch to the man's face.

The man was thrown off but not for long enough.

He reached forward, grabbing Y/N by her hair and pulling her to him.

Joel took that as an advantage and wrapped his hand around the man's neck, the other over his head, ready to snap his neck. He growled in the man's ear, "Don't fucking touch her."

Though the man was the only one with the gun, he was at the disadvantage.

Y/N stared into the man's eyes, trying to read his thoughts.

Finally, he muttered, "You're gonna fucking pay, old man."

This angered Joel. He didn't want to just kill the man. He wanted him to pay.

So, he threw the man backwards into the floor, continuing the fight.

Y/N fell to the ground herself, cradling her head in pain. She was already losing blood from earlier, and she was beginning to see stars.

So, when Joel was on the ground, being choked by the man, Y/N was of no help.

Ellie stepped out, shooting the man in the leg.

It gave Joel a moment to collect himself and his breath. His eyes immediately flickered between Ellie and Y/N.

The man backed up to the door on the ground.

He was just a boy.

And he began to plead, "NO, no, no it's okay. It's okay. It's over. We're not fighting anymore."

Y/N pushed herself up onto her knees. Her face contorted in pain.

She couldn't help but feel bad.

Especially when he continued, "I'm gonna go home. I'll tell everyone you're good. I… I don't know what to do. My legs don't work."

He started to weep. "My mom isn't far, if you could get me to her."

Joel started to get up.

"Please. We could trade with you guys. We could be friends. I didn't know. I'm Bryan."

Joel approached Ellie was an angry expression, holding his hand out for the gun in her hand.

She sighed and handed it to him.

And Joel took out a knife, turning back to the boy.

The boy began to plead again, "Wait, wait, wait."

Joel turned to Ellie in rage. His voice was low, "Get back behind the wall."

Ellie just stared.

Finally, Y/N spoke up quietly, "…just go."

When Ellie turned to leave, Bryan began pleading loudly, "I'm sorry! Please, no! I'm sorry!"

Y/N turned to Joel once Ellie hid. A tear fell down her face at the sight. Her voice was almost a whisper, "Joel?"

But he wouldn't listen. "Close your eyes."

Joel was an unmovable force. Merciless and cruel. For everyone that stood in his way.

It scared her slightly, watching his eyes turn murderous.

She had killed before, sure. But never had she looked so… bloodthirsty.

Not like he did.

She closed her eyes, listening to the man's cries for his mother until they were silenced.

She didn't dare open her eyes until she felt Joel's breath on her face.

His eyes scanned her carefully. "You okay?"

"No."

Joel's jaw clenched. "Alright. We'll fix this. Let's get you cleaned up, Darlin."

And just like that, the murderous glare was gone, and Joel had returned.

And this Joel was hers.

............................................................

Author's note: I'm gonna make a tag list for any continuing parts I make. Comment if you want on it and I'll add you!

Part 5

#joel miller imagine #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller tlou #joel tlou #fanfiction #the last of us #tlou fanfiction #tlou #tlou imagine #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal

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honey-minded-hivemind · 3 months ago

Note

lmfao Dark Howlett/Creed!Reader having rankings for who they like the most

Imagine a tier list video except it's Reader ranking the X-Men and villains

Logan and Victor are probably F tier lol

Cube anon

Hahaha! Oh dear... Okay, I might as well do it, and make it canon (with hidden fun facts and lore for the au!)... This is in Creed/Howlett Reader's pov:

(Journal: List of Who Is The Least Awful)

(In the Green)

Gambit: is nice to me, only tries to steal my food and my spare change, wants information but at least attempts to listen to me talk first (he smells like cats and spice, maybe a hint of cinnamon) 7/10

Kurt: tries to be polite, but I know he's scared, and he went along with what the others did (I saw him wearing a cross necklace... Catholic, maybe? seems sweet, is blue and fluffy... smells like blueberry muffins) 6.5/10

Todd: still jokes at my expense, but is only as scared as everyone else... still doesn't like me, went along with their plan to use me (is he a feral mutant? or just a poor frog, erm, toad kid?) 6/10

Beast: was nice to my face, did not say i should stay, knew I was being tested, did nothing (why is it always the same?) 5.5/10

(In the Yellow)

Xavier: ... I don't like him, he set me up... but he is polite to my face, albeit he also decided I wouldn't be staying with them (who let him have kids?) 4/10

Rogue: isn't bad, but is distrustful of me (wasn't she in this position before?) 4/10

Magneto: terrifies me... but hasn't personally messed with me (he's Pietro and Wanda's dad, he's scary as f*ck!) 4/10

Evan: annoying and likes to mess around/make jokes about me, is not the worst (I'm not fighting him, he has SPIKES, I'm not that much of a sucker for pain-) 4/10

Lance: still annoyed me, was not nice, was rude and threw a rock at me in retaliation once (has issues, but don't we all?) 3.5/10

(In the Red)

Kitty: is a bit snobby and prudish, but hasn't tried to fight me or get in my way, smells like bubblegum (she's smart, once was in a club with her, was ignored, it's normal) 3.5/10

Jean: did not trust me at all, is suspicious of me, has tried to read my mind, she scares me (a telepath or telekinetic? how do any of these kids live under the same roof? smart, pretty, avoid) 3/10

Scott: definitely does not trust me, has tried to start a fight with me, his lasers burn, is very, very stubborn (I am not fighting him again, one time was enough, did he have to insult me, too? are he and Jean dating? ... they seem like a good fit...) 2.5/10

Wanda: ... no... nope... does not like anyone, is related to Pietro, is the nicer of the twins (wears red and black a lot... is dangerous... steer clear of her) 2.5/10

(In the Black)

Pietro: is annoying as f*ck, is rude, insults me and everyone else, will rub your insecurities in your face, is demanding, is dramatic, is addicted to drama (why did I ever try to talk to him? avoid at all costs. Is NOT worth it) 1/10

Logan: ... avoid avOid AVOID! dangerous, terrifying, deems me too dangerous, has almost hurt me, don't go near him, stay away from him and his brats (I thought he'd understand... what it's like, to be this way... he doesn't care...) 0/10

Sabretooth: Run Run RUN!!! Avoid at all costs! Do not talk to, do not get near, stay still, don't speak, pray, will bite and scratch and aim to hurt, deems me too soft (said it more hurtfully than that... is NOT nice...) -1/10

(Hmmm... I don't think I have friends... I have maybe Gambit, but he's, well... I know why he comes around. I know it's just a job, just a scheme. But I'm lonely, okay? I need someone to talk to, and out of everyone, he's the least problematic... Is it so bad to want someone as a friend? What am I doing wrong? I try to act normal, talk normal, eat normally... These people should understand, but they don't... Is there a point to this?)

(... I heard something outside... I need to check it out... I'll write in you again, Journal...)

( Last written entry of Reader ********, dated 12/03/200? , in their journal )

(How is this for a peek inside Creed/Howlett Reader's mind in their version of the Dark AU? And a reminder: they didn't know who their dad was at first but find out during **********...) (So yes, Gambit ai the closest they have to an ally/comrade, but they aren't quite friends...) (When Reader wakes up and finds the other three with them, those three are traumatized, trying to apologize, and telling Reader they'll be welcomed this time, that the others can't leave then after this, look at the state they're in-) (Well, um... look at this list, and tell me how well you think that goes over initially) ( @sugar-soda @vivid-bun @danni1323 @crowwithguns @thewickedweiner)

#honeycomb thoughts #platonic yandere marvel #yandere platonic marvel #platonic yandere xmen #yandere x-men #platonic yandere marvel x reader #platonic yandere xmen evolution #platonic yandere xmen evolution au #creed!reader #howlett!reader #🪶creed!reader #🖤dark au

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bonny-kookoo · 1 year ago

Text

Jungkook

𝓘 𝓛𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓨𝓸𝓾 (say it back): Sour 🔞

You know people think you're just using him. And he knows that people think he's just getting used by you. And maybe it's time for him to stand up, and make some things clear.

Tags/Warnings: Girly!Reader, Introvert!Jungkook, non-idol AU, opposites attract AU?, established relationship, Angst, Major Fluff, some drama, Slice of Life (like Good Girl AU for example), mc is kook's biggest simp, kook is kind of overwhelmed by her love sometimes, but it's fine they both cute, Jealousy oh no, possessive kook!, multiple rounds, boob slapping like.. once, cumplay, creampie oops²

Length: Long, didn't count oops

A/N: There is no taglist. There is no taglist. There is no taglist. There is no-

-> Masterlist

━━━━━━━━━━.~°♡°~.━━━━━━━━━━━

"Ah, by the way!" His trainer asks, while Jungkook quietly unwraps his hands after his boxing training. "I wanted to ask you, who was that girl you were with when you came here earlier?" He asks, referring to you.

Jungkook doesn't really know any other girls besides you, after all. So it has to be you- you've tagged along to the boxing studio with him, leaving him to walk inside on his own however since he'd offered to simply take you along, so you could go to your appointment at the hair salon while he was working out, and bring you back home once he was done.

"..my girlfriend." Jungkook says, continuing to unwrap his other hand before flexing the fingers a bit. It's a bit odd to say it out loud- but not a bad-odd. Just unfamiliar.

Maybe because he doesn't say it much.

Maybe he should.

"Really?" His trainer wonders, looking genuinely surprised for a second as he looks at Jungkook- who feels a bit challenged, almost. Jungkook has noticed that the start contrast between you and himself has caused some people to look at him with almost something akin to pity- as if he's the prey in the cougars claws, about to be chewed and spit out once you're done with him. He gets it- but at the same time, it irritates him to no ends, because you're pretty much the sweetest cursing little angel he's ever met up to this point.

So it's unsurprising that his answer might sound a bit more offended than he's intending it to. "Yes." He answers, brows lowering.

"Oh, wow." His trainer seems to catch up on his mood. "No offense, really! Just- surprising, you know?" He tries to explain himself. "You're always so quiet, and you know… Are you sure she's in it for the right reasons?" He asks, and at that, Jungkook puts everything down to look up at his trainer with a serious face.

"What are you implying?" He demands to know.

"Man, I'm just saying! You know, I know girls like that. They use guys like you! They might fuck you well but-" He tries. "-I just-"

"You want to fuck her instead, is that it?" Jungkook calls him out, and by the look on the guy's face, Jungkook had hit the jackpot. And just as he gets up to walk closer, the door opens, and you walk in with a rustling paperbag that smells like takeout food.

"Uh.. am I interrupting something?" You ask, a little unsure- and both men stare each other down for a bit longer, before Jungkook walks off to walk over to you instead, hand on the back of your neck as he gives you a short but heated kiss- rendering you a bit speechless for once. He's never this bold in public.

What's going on?

"I'll go shower real quick, okay?" He tells you, and you just dumbly nod, left by yourself as he walks past his trainer into the changing rooms and showers.

"I'm just- not gonna ask." You just say, more or less to yourself as you sit down in a chair close by, throwing one leg over the other before pulling out your phone.

"He's just having a bad day." The trainer tells you, walking closer. "So, you and him?" He asks, and you nod at that, big grin on your face.

"Yep!" You chirp, tapping away on your phone.

"Don't make him spend all his money on you." The trainer tells you, somewhat joking- though you can hear the hint of honest threat in his tone, which makes you stop what you're doing. "I know he's a softy, but come on. Just cause he's easy doesn't make it right." He says, and you become a bit insecure at that.

You know that's what most people must think of you- but hearing it said out loud makes it sting just a bit more.

You want to stand up for yourself like you always try to do- but somehow, you can't, not in this moment. Not because you don't want to- but because you're just realizing how little people think of Jungkook. You're not even the victim here. It's not your place to even be offended in the first place.

You can take the weird rumors about yourself, the glances and looks, the stereotypes and boxes people put you in. But the fact that just because Jungkook cares, and loves, and treats the people around him with kindness, he's seen as someone weak and pitiful, just makes you angry. Because if you stood up for him right now, it would only cause more issues- the guy in front of you would only feel validated in his opinion, would never let your boyfriend live it down that his own stupid dumb girlfriend had to defend his poor self from the world.

"I'll send you my cancellation for my membership via E-mail." Jungkook suddenly says as he emerges from the showers, grabbing his bag before he helps you stand up from your seat, brushing down the back of your skirt with his palm. He almost instantly reaches for your small bag as well, holding it for you while you put your phone away.

"Hey man, I was just looking out for you-" The trainer starts, but Jungkook puts himself between him and you as if to prove a point, calmly speaking.

"Don't. I'm very much capable of doing that myself." He says, simply takes his bag to throw over his shoulder before he takes your hand in his, and leaves the gym.

It's only in the car that you dare ask what's happened. "Is it because of me?" You wonder, and Jungkook perks up at that, face completely devoid of the anger he'd had just a few minutes ago.

"What do you mean?" He asks, even his voice not in the slightest irritated any longer.

"At the gym, earlier." You say, opening the paper bag to steal some fries for yourself. "Like, you said you'll cancel your membership and stuff. And you love boxing." You shrug, and he shakes his head.

"I think I just realized that I need to start putting my foot down." He offers, changing lanes as he drives you both home. "And the membership was also pretty overpriced anyways. There's other gyms I can check out." He tries to joke, though you don't seem too convinced next to him.

"You know I'm not using your for, you know, sex and money right?" You ask him, and his eyes widen. "Like, I really really do love you-" You begin, and he laughs.

"I know that, don't worry." He tells you. "Is that what he told you?" He wonders, and you shrug.

"Lot's of people think that." You huff to yourself. "Comes with the style, I guess. And like, I'm not mad about that- I don't really care if people think I'm a money-grabbing whore." You laugh, making him cringe. He doesn't like you talking about yourself like that. "But it just makes me mad that people think you're a pussy who needs to be babied all the time." You complain.

"So you're getting angry on my behalf?" He chuckles, and you nod, crossing your arms.

"I hate when people don't take you seriously." You huff to yourself, staying quiet the entire rest of the ride until you both reach his apartment where you're staying over at tonight- when his arms reach around you from the back, his face hiding in the crook of your neck where he kisses the skin.

"I love you."He hums, and you shiver at the sound of that sentence. He doesn't say it often, his love language non-verbal, rather expressing his feelings in acts of service or fleeting touches. So whenever he does say it, it's special. "And I'm.. really happy you're my girlfriend, you know that?" He says, and you shrug.

"I'm.. you know, I'm sorry I'm always so much trouble." You sigh, but he shakes his head.

"You're not." He denies. "I need to.. say it more often to people. You know. Stop introducing you as.. you, but as my girlfriend instead." He tells you.

"You don't have to-" You start, but he chuckles.

"No, I do." He argues gently. "Because I can't stand it when people think you're easy to get. Or that you're someone that's available in the first place." He complains, walking you closer to his small bedroom, where he suddenly picks you up and let's you fall on the bed, your body bouncing from the impact a little.

"Jung-" you start, but he's already crawling closer to you on hands and knees, leaning in.

"You're mine." He almost growls under his breath, kissing you feverishly. You're not sure what's gotten into him, but you're also not complaining- or maybe you do, as you hear fabric rip and buttons drop to the floor around the bedroom.

"kook!" You whine. "That was one of my favorites-!" You complain, while he's busy pulling your skirt from your legs.

"As if I care." He growls, before he pulls you closer by the backs of your knees. "I like that lingerie though." He almost purrs, hands pulling on the straps of the lace body, letting them snap back against your skin playfully so.

"Yeah I like it too-" You pout, crossing your arms. "-So don't break it." You huff, making him raise one of his brows before he moves to push your wrists into the bed up above your head.

"I won't promise anything." He comments, before he leans down to kiss you, lips eager to claim your breath while his hands roam around your body, grabbing onto the softness of your breasts before they travel lower, over your sides, stomach, one pulling your leg up, while the other moves between your legs.

Your toes curl as he finds a way to slip his palm inside, teasing you for a good while before he throws his shirt over his head, shedding the rest of his clothes as well, before he grabs at the lace bottom of the lingerie.

It rips as he creates an opening, making you whine.

"I'll buy you a new one." He hums, one of his hands pumping his cock before he guides himself into your leaking core, pushing in slowly to help you adjust. "I'll buy you ten, I don't fucking care."

"You'll rip them all.." you sigh partially because of the feeling of him filling you up like this.

"Damn right I will." He chuckles darkly, pulling out before he pushes back in.

It's the start of what you think you know by now- but he's catching you off guard as his hips move at an aggressive pace, skin against skin echoing in the room as he clenches his jaw, a hard grip on your thighs, making you wonder if he'll leave bruises.

You wouldn't mind if he did.

Your head spins as you're left taking whatever he gives you, one of his hands leaving your thigh to instead pull down some of the straps on the upper part, pulling out your tits for him to see freely move. He can't help but grab onto one of them, hold it before he slaps it once just to see how it feels.

You, meanwhile, feel like you're having an out of body experience. You can hear yourself moan almost obscenely, whining and whimpering as he pounds into you, but its like your body doesn't respond to you any longer, as you arch your back and curl your toes.

And like the devil he is, he doesn't slow down. Instead, he grabs your hips, and adjusts you to lay over his thighs, gaining the ability to aim even deeper inside. And your body freezes up as you hit your orgasm full force, thighs shaking violently as he slows a bit, erratically moving to reach his own high as well, your cunt clenching around him tightly.

And as he finally cums, pushed as far inside you as he can, he finally gains back the ability to year, and notice his surroundings.

Your chest is rising and falling rapidly, your eyes are closed, skin shining in a light layer of sweat as he can't help but run his hands over the pale pink lace lingerie covering your body.

You're just so pretty.

He moves the straps and lace around, helps you out of the garment, slipping out of your core for a moment, causing you to whine in complaint. "So pretty.." he hums, as he finally has full access to your bare skin, lips peppering kisses from your stomach up to your neck, hands never staying still. "All mine." He speaks against your skin, when you feel him suddenly harshly suck and bite at your neck and shoulder.

"J-jungk-" you stammer, legs rubbing against one another as he chuckles.

"Already wanting more?" He wonders, and you nod, hands clinging onto his arms. "Think you can take it?" He jokes, and you nod again.

"Please-" you beg, and he leans back, pulling you with him to straddle his lap, adjusting you properly on his still sensitive cock. You've never had sex in this position before,but you immediately decide that it's one of your favorite- the way he holds you, his body all over you, the way he's able to provide such an immense feeling of safety and comfort to you, is otherworldly almost.

Or maybe it's just jungkook himself. You're not sure.

He's overly sensitive but pushes through that first wall, moves a lot slower and more sensual now as he helps you bounce on his lap, before you instead start to roll your hips into his- earning a very vocal response from him as he holds onto your ass, assisting you in your motions while your hands are on his back, nails scratching a little over his skin.

And he loves it, loves the idea of wearing your marks just as much as you do his.

He really should show his love for you more often. It's still a bit odd to him why you're with him in the first place, but he should stop trying to figure that out- because that's not what it's all about, isn't it? Your relationship doesn't need any other reason to exist than live alone, and love is something you both have a lot of.

The love for your body, your mind, your soul. The love for the way you nap around whenever you can in the most random of places. The love for your random kisses you place on his cheek, on his neck, on his hands, on his shoulders. The love for your cooking, your care and your hugs at night.

He's got so much love for you, and he should show that.

He's sure he can't cum again, but he knows he's reaching his second orgasm however, hips moving erratically just like yours as you pick up your pace, lips chasing after his, as he licks at your lips, open mouthed kisses sharing breaths as you reach your highs.

You cling onto him for a good while after, feeling him fill you up once more as his cock spurts his release up your cunt, making it leak out down your legs, as he lays your limp body back down on the bed, pulling out.

His hand can't help but try and push his seed back in- and when he notices he can't, he instead uses it as lubricant to instead let his thumb circle over your pulling clit, a frail whimper coming from you as he softly lures another orgasm out of you, his breath finally normalizing as he watches his cum leak out of you.

He's tired, exhausted, but forces himself up at least to help you and him clean up and so you go pee, while he simply throws the stained sheets into the wash. Neither he nor you get dressed after showering and drying up, rather opting to sleep wrapped in simple blankets on the couch instead, holding each other close.

And the pain in his muscles the next time he wakes up is so worth it-

Just like the honestly amusing sight of you struggling to walk straight.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #bts jungkook x reader #bts jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook imagine #bts jeon jungkook x reader #bts jeon jungkook imagine

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rooksblvd · 8 months ago

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Itafushi headcannons

megumi is the only person who's ever made yuji blush in all seriousness

megumi is a hoodie hoarder (of yuji's hoodies ofc!)

yuji likes running his fingers through megumi's hair when he's asleep

they've been on countless ice cream dates (ofc megumi would call them otherwise but like-)

yuji walked in on megumi fresh out of shower once and it took him a full whole minute to regain his composure (and get his insides to stop tingling)

"So are you just gonna stare or?" Megumi cocked a challenging eyebrow, the faintest edge of amusement coating his tone. If Yuji kept looking at him like that for any longer, Megumi would have to step back into the bathroom to get rid of the inexplicable heat emanating off of his muscles. "I-", Yuji cleared his throat, as if to chase away any last remnants of how heavy and hot his insides felt from showing, "- yea, sorry, I was just- would you like to catch an ice cream later?" he blurted out; It had been weeks- 27 days precisely (of course he was counting!) since they'd last went out together. Just the two of them. Between the growingly demanding training schedule and countless missions Gojo was bent on sending them on, it was getting harder to catch each other selfishly lately. It bugged both of them more than they would've liked to admit. The only difference was that Yuji would actually come up, heed to the temptation and ask him out already, while Megumi would bait him walking around half naked like that. Megumi shrugged, "Yea I'd like that," he was really hoping he was doing his best to smother the excitement in his voice, but boy did Yuji know any better. So he nodded finally, cutting his brooding little black cat some slack, "Okay, cool, so um, see you in a while? When you're-" another cough "-decent," God why was it so hot in this room? With their date outing settled, Yuji turned to leave. Maybe it was all the sleepless nights catching up to him, or maybe seeing Megumi's towel hanging that low had short-circuited the nerves of his brain, but Yuji could've sworn he saw Megumi don one of his hoodies, out of the corner of his eye; one which had disappeared out of the blue after a mission, one which he'd been searching for incessantly. And there the stupid butterflies went, making a fuss in his tummy.

ever since megumi caught yuji sneaking off to the terraces at night to actually relax without feeling the responsibility of the world drooping his sanity, he makes it a point to accompany him

they don't do much, never talk even, just sit against the rooftop, with yuji's head on megumi's shoulder, megumi's fingers intertwined with yuji's on his thigh and their gaze fixed upon the same stars

ever since the encounter with sukuna, megumi has to have his head on yuji's chest so he can actually sleep, listening to yuji's rythmic heartbeat is what keeps his going

the first time megumi ever called yuji by his first name, was when he moaned it against his mouth after their first kiss

yuji fell in love with him all over again after that instance and now he gets pissy everytime megumi calls him itadori when they're in public

megumi would let yuji style his hair (only on sundays, and yk this is big coming from someone as reserved as him)

yuji would casually throw around sexual jokes when with megumi, unaware of the effect it has on him

yuji secretly (oh who am i kidding, megumi obviously knew ab it; with the way my man's got his eyes on him 24 7, i wouldn't be surprised), mixed their colognes once because he liked the idea of it

their first kiss was actually initiated by a frustrated megumi in an attempt to shut up a stupidly beautiful an annoying yuji

yuji may or may not have had an existential crisis over his crush making the first move

nobara is the first person they come out to

yuji's love language is quality time while megumi's is acts of service both inside and outside the bedroom

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Okayyyy you guys, I'm so sorry for posting this so late. Truth be told, it's been sitting in my drafts for weeks, I was too caught up with my exams so I was giving it a rest. But a girl can only take her mind off of two silly little gays for so long! So here it is. I'm ngl, but the way writing about anything jjk related in general, especially anything stsg or itfs centered, never fails to boost my energy levels up is crazy. I love love love them w all my heart, and I try to express it in my hcs. I know they may not be exactly canon-compliant, but they're what side of my brain that's a sucker for happy endings seeks refuge in. So yea, I try.

PS The yuji-asking-megumi-out tidbit was supposed to be only like a few lines, idk how I ended up writing all that-

Alsooo I've been wanting to write an itfs fic for awhile; not that I have a solid plot at ready or anything, it's just an urge I have (and I know that's not how writing works lol) so maybe, just mayyyybe, ima try to work on it in my vacation? (which starts from tm btw). Cause if I actually do plan on going ahead w it, it'd be my first ever fic, and tbh it seems just as scary as it seems exciting. Either way, if you managed to read this far, I'm grateful that you did!<3

Long live itafushi!!!🎀

#i will cry actually #for the 15 ppl who voted for this post haha #this is for you cuties<3 #they're my babies #itafushi #itfs #yuji itadori #megumi fushiguro #jjk #jujutsu kaisen

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realcube · 4 months ago

Note

hi cutie!! your work makes me froth at the mouth <3333 also hear me out on this: ts! yaku talking with ts! lev after one of his games and lev introduces you as his foreign cousin and yaku is like omg cutie

this has been dinging around in my mind all week like a screensaver ily mwah

A/N → omg that's soo good !! ty for blessing me with this 🙏 also you literally read my mind cuz i've been having endless yaku brainrot recently

TWS/TAGS → fem!reader, reader is a statistician ??, modelling slander & cursing

yaku wipes his forehead with a towel while he is sat at the side of the court. the match is over and everyone is beginning to filter out of the stadium, including his teammates, but not without giving him a celebratory slap on the back or handshake first.

they all make their way towards the exit, where there are crowds of interviewers and tv cameramen waiting to pester them about their winning game. yaku wasn't quite ready yet to deal with the onslaught of questions and praise, so he remains on bench a bit longer, still trying to properly catch his breath.

that was until he heard the familiar voice of an old friend yell, "hey, shorty!"

he looked up to see lev walking towards him, with his arms wide open for a hug. it had been over a year since yaku had seen lev, since his modelling career had really taken off and presented unmissable oppertunities all over the world. yaku couldn't help but crack a smile, even at the terrible nickname.

as lev made his way towards him, he couldn't help but notice the girl he was with. stunning. a beauty unlike any other. so graceful and elegant in their movements, wearing a benign smile that caused yaku's heart to skip a beat.

naturally, he assumes you are lev's model girlfriend, or something like that. that was the only reasonable explanation he could think of, but even then, you were still miles out of lev's league. as you both approached, yaku tried his best to pay little mind towards you, as the reminder of lev's fortune would only piss him off and spoil what was supposed to be a joyful reunion.

"lev." he said, outstretching his arm for a handshake but he should've expected it when lev scooped him up in a big, tight hug.

"yaku! it's been forever!"

"put me down!" he demanded, and lev obliged, still beaming at him.

"congratulations on your win." lev said, and you added, "yeah, you were amazing."

yaku couldn't help but blush at your compliment, and he bowed his head in thanks towards both you and lev. which is what prompted lev to clear his throat and clarify, "oh! this is my cousin (y/n) from abroad."

you wave slightly to accompany the introduction, meanwhile yaku looks between the two of you, absolutely star-struck. "cousin?" he repeats.

"yeah." lev chuckled awkwardly, motioning towards himself and joking, "you're probably confused because i am so much better-looking but it's beca—"

you playfully elbow him in the side and he grunts slightly, then bursts out laughing while you exchange a knowing look with yaku. "so are you a model too?" he asks.

a fiery heat rises to your face and you tense, shaking your head slightly, "no, i'm just here with lev because i wanted to see the game."

he takes notice of the fact his question flustered you a little, and this brings him a new-found confidence, "have you ever thought of going into modelling?"

you blink a couple times while thinking about it, then shrug, "it's never really crossed my mind. i like the job i have."

"oh, yeah!" lev chimes in, "she's a statistician, isn't that super fancy?"

you nod in agreement with your cousin's enthusiasm, elaborating, "i know it doesn't sound cool but i get to chill in a big office and i hardly have to talk to anyone."

yaku agrees that a career devoid of other people's stupidity sounds like a dream come true, but he inquires, "so you just hide behind a computer all day?"

you nod proudly.

"sounds like a waste of such a pretty face." he chuckles to himself at how your eyes widen and your hand rushes to cover the bottom half of your face, "really, though, you should think about modelling. it's probably a lot easier and pays more. plus, i'd rather see your face on billboards than his."

he gestures to lev, who slaps his hand against his chest and lets out a dramatic gasp, "what's wrong with my face?! and modelling is not easy; it's one of the hardest jobs in the world and not for the weak."

"i'm sure styling your hair is very difficult, lev." yaku says sarcastically.

you laugh and interject, "he doesn't even style his own hair, he has someone to do that for him."

yaku raises an eyebrow, trying to suppress a shit-eating grin, "so what the fuck do you do?"

lev crosses his arms over his chest and pouts, walking towards the exit, "you two can come find me when you're done being mean."

you both snicker to yourselves at lev's behaviour, realising you only tease him out of love, really. so when your laughter dies down, you begin to follow him at a safe distance behind. "how long are you going to be in russia for?" yaku asks, recalling that lev mentioned you're from a different country.

"just today." you reply, "this trip was so last-minute for me. lev just messaged me a week ago asking if i wanted to come and i said sure. i wanted to stay for a whole week but virtually all nearby hotels were booked. it's a miracle i even managed to find a room for tonight."

yaku frowned at your story, "that sucks. but i know a motel that has availability for this week."

"really?" you perk up, "what's it called?"

"my house."

#yaku x you #yaku morisuke #haikyuu x reader #yaku x reader #yaku fluff #hq yaku

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frodo-with-glasses · 7 months ago

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Dreams in the House of Tom Bombadil (and the Four Elements of Trauma)

Now that we've gotten to the point where the hobbits spend the night in Tom Bombadil's house, I'd like to expand on this bullet point from my chapter review:

Much apologies to my girlies on the server who headcanon the hobbits with phobias corresponding to the four elements; sadly, Tolkien is not on the same page as us this time.

For context, I present to you these screenshots of messages sent on the Fig Tree Discord Server back in January:

This started as a half-joke, but it's since evolved into something of a shared headcanon for some of us. Pippin has a Thing about fire, because of the Pyre of Denethor. Frodo has a Thing about water, because his parents drowned. Bri has since told me that she headcanons Merry has a Thing about air, specifically cold air, after his encounters with the Black Breath. And that leaves Earth to Sam.

The good news is that this is a really fun headcanon; and when you look at LotR through this lens, it's actually kind of staggering how well it fits with the events of the book.

The bad news is that Tolkien did not write LotR with this idea in mind; and the whole thing with Old Man Willow, and the subsequent nightmares that the hobbits have in Tom Bombadil's house, make that abundantly clear.

After all, what does Old Man Willow do to Frodo? Lulls him to sleep and then tips him face-first into the water. He almost drowns. He almost drowns. Sam finds him face-down in the water, unconscious, held down by a root and not struggling; there's water in his nose and his mouth and his eyes and ears and he can't breathe, he can't breathe, he nearly goes out the same way his parents did, in a river that connects to the one where they died. If Tolkien was writing Frodo with hydrophobia, this probably would've gotten a bit more attention than it did. But no; in Tom's house, Frodo dreams of Gandalf and Black Riders, because he's the protagonist and Tolkien needed an efficient way to foreshadow things a bit.

What does Old Man Willow do to Merry? Closes its roots over him, so that only his legs are sticking out; and when Frodo and Sam set fire to the tree, Merry screams, and begs them to put it out. "He'll squeeze me in two, if you don't. He says so!" He could feel the roots of the tree clamping like a vice under his ribs, squeezing, crushing, bruising; he could hear the voice of the tree in his head, demanding he communicate the ransom message. And as our beloved former anon, Meg, pointed out: Could he breathe in there? Was it dry and stuffy and stifling inside the tree? How much air could he even draw in, when his lungs were being crushed and had no space to expand? He screams with what little breath he has left, but can they hear him? He's going to die. He can't breathe. He's going to die.

But, ironically, he's the one who dreams about nearly drowning, and his dream-brain convinces him he's lying in a "soft slimy bog" before he wakes up and finds himself in Tom's house again. He's not the one who got tipped into the water, but go off Tolkien I guess.

What does Old Man Willow do to Pippin? Closes its roots over him completely, with a click like a lock snapping into place; and when Frodo and Sam set fire to the bark, and Old Man Willow gets angry, they can hear Pippin's "muffled yell" from deep inside the tree. Fire. Smoke and ash and anger. Could Pippin smell the burning wood around him? Could he feel any heat or sting? Did he hear Old Man Willow's voice, the same way Merry did, cursing the flames and threatening to smother him if it wasn't put out?

His nightmare, out of the three of them, is the only one that makes sense to me; he dreams that he is again inside the willow, hearing the wood creak as it sways in the breeze over him, and hearing the voice of the tree laughing at him again. But, sadly, no mention of fire.

All of that to say, if I wrote Lord of the Rings—which I realize is a terribly presumptuous thing to say given that I am, unlike Tolkien, Not A Genius, but hear me out—I definitely would have Frodo's nightmare be about drowning, Merry's be about suffocation, and Pippin's be about burning alive. This would then be foreshadowing for the later horrific stuff they're going to encounter concerning water, air, and fire respectively.

I dunno. It just seems like a missed opportunity is all. Which is probably why, despite how much I adore the “nightmares revealing inner turmoil and then characters waking up in safety and comfort” trope, I never really liked this sequence in the book all that much.

Sam, meanwhile, is welcome to continue sleeping “in deep content, if logs are contented". Good for him. 10/10, no notes.

#four elements of trauma #old man willow #frodo baggins #meriadoc brandybuck #merry #peregrin took #pippin #samwise gamgee #lord of the rings #lotr #my writing #long post #i do realize that it is very silly to criticize tolkien for not adhering to a headcanon we made decades after his death but hear me out #we’re right 🤣#that is all

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filmbyjy · 1 year ago

Text

COLLIE DUTY

TWENTY-TWO — clearing up mistakes

SYNOPSIS > being the new CEO to the ‘Sim Corp’ was hard and stressful. jake didn’t have much time to spend with layla and so he decides to get a dogsitter, you. though, you were originally already his secretary. how will dog sitting bring you two closer?

WARNINGS: none :D let me know if there are some idk missing words to sentences. sometimes my brain processes the sentence but when I reread it, it doesn’t have the word but I swear I wrote it down😭

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

as you threw on your outfit that you had decided for the ‘date’, or whatever jake asked you, you had stepped in front of the mirror and snapped a quick photo.

posting it right on your Instagram story that was very much public to everyone. it wasn’t disclosed but you had a decent amount of following but nobody saw your face, just your body. you had wanted to keep it a secret because you know, private stuff.

your friends knew about the account. heeseung even joked about you looking like some faceless model with the way you took pictures of yourself. quite suggestive poses, very little clothing but you just wanted to express yourself because why not love yourself?

“shit, I should leave.” you didn’t even think to cover your face when you posted that photo on your account. you had quickly made it out of your apartment and went downstairs to see jake’s car waiting for you.

the moment you entered the car, you see jake looking at his phone in shock. you had peeped at his phone a little. then it hits you, you posted that pic without covering your face. jake’s eyes slowly met with yours.

“sir.” it was the only thing you could mutter out.

“you’re the faceless model that I was looking for?” he says.

you were confused. no seriously confused, “what do you mean, Mr.Sim?”

“I wanted to possibly reach out to this girl to collab for the new collection that we’re going to send out to a designer brands competition and sign her up for a contract.”

“oh.”

“you’re her?” jake says still in shock.

“is it that shocking that I am her?”

“no, not at all. it’s just that…I didn’t think you’d pose in such positions.”

“I just post this for my own pleasure. it’s fun to dress up and take photos.”

“(name).”

“yes, Mr.Sim?”

“please be the model for our ‘JS collection’.”

“Mr.Sim, I don’t exactly want to be a model. I’m already your secretary and it’s something I have been focusing on for the past 4 years.”

“I know but this would be a great opportunity. You’re pretty and you definitely fit the vibes of our new collection, it’s perfect.”

you can’t help but blush when jake called you pretty.

“Mr.Sim-”

“also dropped the ‘Mr.Sim’. I already told you when it’s just us call me jake.” jake demanded said.

“okay, umm jake. I really don’t think I can do it.”

“then what if I reward you with something if you do it?”

you deadpanned at him, “jake, I am not Layla.”

“I’m not using the ‘good girl’ tactic like you’re a dog. I’m serious, I’ll reward you with something good.”

“what is this something good?”

“tickets for like a holiday? You deserve it after working long hours as my secretary and also…for hearing what you did back in office.”

“oh.”

holy shit, sound the alarm sim jaeyun is apologising.

“yeah, I was supposed to apologised at the restaurant once we got there but since we’re already here in my car talking, I think I should apologise first.” jake takes a deep breath.

“look, I understand what you heard isn’t exactly what any normal person should hear in an office space. let alone a CEO’s office. you’re also my secretary so it was unprofessional to let that happen considering your desk was also near me. I’ll be honest, that part slipped my mind. I forgot we’re both not in two different offices. your desk is like at least 10 footsteps away from my office.” jake was about to ramble on more but you had cut him off.

“jake.”

“yeah?”

“it’s fine. I understand you have your little scandalous activities you wanna do. moreover, you’re well, someone attractive so like it’s only more normal for you to have fun.”

jake shakes his head, “let’s forget about this and have dinner. I’m sure after a long day of working, you need some good food. of course, this is also a token of apology for the umm things you heard.” jake starts up the car and starts to drive.

it was great to have this whole thing be cleared up and jake apologising. it made you feel warm on the inside, hearing jake be soft-spoken and kind to you was a change. You liked this version of jake and if you were being honest, you liked the view beside you right now.

jake holding onto the steering wheel with one hand, slick back black hair with a few pieces of hair falling onto his forehead. His black suit tucked into his pants, the black slacks he wore, one of his sleeves folded up his hand. His arm exposed that showed off the black Galaxy watch he wore on his wrist.

God the arm veins…

Your inner conscious was screaming at you. Sim Jaeyun was definitely out to murder you. you don’t even know how long you’ve been staring at him for.

“We’re here.” Jake says as he parks the car at the front of the restaurant. He goes out of the car to pass the keys to the staff there and then opens the door for you.

“Let’s go, my lady.” he says in a deep voice. You swore you just got a whole shiver down your spine which is why jake went to open the back door of the car to grab his jacket and wrapped it around your figure.

“you’re not talking, are you in shock?” he snickers. “if you must know, I have never brought anyone to some fancy high end restaurant before.”

“oh…” was the only thing you could say.

jake chuckles before softly grabbing your hand, “let’s go, it’s cold out here.”

which was how you found yourself being dragged by jake into the restaurant where the food was extremely expensive and really divine. definitely a meal for the rich.

a/n: HELL🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️ I am sat! jake do be very hot for apologising and knowing what he did was very wrong and if you think that they are gonna start dating, THINK AGAIN🙄🤚🏻 I gotta drag this story for a little longer

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keepmycandleburning · 4 days ago

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I am submitting hate. How do you reconcile the fact that Voldemort despised the purebloods due to his deep-rooted inferiority complex with his relationship with Bellatrix?

Thank you for submitting hate. I've never described him in metas or fics as despising the purebloods the way some people think he does (and I don't necessary reblog things because I agree with all of it, or even any of it, but often simply because it's interesting) — In fact I tend to see him as likely having much more meaningful relationships than Dumbledore thinks he has. Voldemort frequently entertains himself by making fun of his various Death Eaters, and he does not exempt Bellatrix from this, nor from the professional expectations he holds all the DEs to. He has personal problems with Lucius Malfoy. However, he doesn't despise the DEs as a whole; even when they're not there he calls them his true family, he calls them his friends.

How do I reconcile it? I don't see much reconciliation to be done. By 'the purebloods' I assume you namely mean the Malfoys. He inserts himself into Bellatrix/the Malfoys' space, mocks her with the Malfoys, gives her a horcrux just as he does Lucius. They both run when the cup is stolen. He keeps her physically close in the forest at the Battle of Hogwarts, just as he does Lucius in the Shrieking Shack. Perhaps he considers her his family, the way he describes the Death Eaters who come to the graveyard, and the way she almost seems to describe him in The Dark Lord Ascending. Voldemort, in public, doesn't really give Bellatrix special treatment, though it's clear they have a different relationship in private. Any differences beyond this are because Lucius allowed both a horcrux and the prophecy to be destroyed, not because he's pureblood. Voldemort is actually pretty brief and relatively forgiving in the graveyard regarding Lucius's denouncing of him, and it's clear they have a good established baseline that both seek to re-establish. He's the only DE Voldemort calls by their first name, and Lucius uses 'my Lord' rather than 'Master' when he's being chastised, unlike Avery, Macnair, Crabbe, Goyle (Nott, presumably one of the oldest DEs and one who clearly believes himself very important, uses 'my Lord' even when directly criticized). Anyway... irrelevant...

In general, Voldemort has good relationships with the DEs. I've written before about how Voldemort and Rodolphus (and Rabastan) had a good relationship. Voldemort is cordial with Rookwood (wait he's not on the sacred 28 list, but still V doesn't hate the DEs); Avery continues giving him information after being tortured in the graveyard. Rowle is comfortable enough around Voldemort after being tortured to yell at Hagrid at an important moment; Carrow is comfortable enough to tell a joke out of turn at the DE meeting. Yaxley clearly wants Voldemort's approval and despite being rejected in favor of Snape's factually better information, he's been placed in a high leadership position. Voldemort shares a lot of personal information with Barty Crouch Jr. Voldemort has a good enough relationship with the Blacks to never think Regulus had betrayed him. Even Lucius, in the Shrieking Shack, knows he can try to change Voldemort's mind in a self-serving way and still be okay. Bellatrix defies him in the Ministry because she decides it's in his own best interest. Other non-pureblood DEs like Wormtail and Snape argue with him or sass him, and they know it's fine. He's not as mercurial or as needlessly physically violent as he's often seen.

Deep-rooted inferiority complex? Maybe. Not in the ways Dumbledore thinks. Dumbledore is wrong about Voldemort's heritage, birth name, etc being so private. Voldemort shares a lot of information, and literally gathers the DEs around his father's grave. And he still demands that they all treat him like he's better than them. Deep-rooted superiority complex much more so. Obviously.

Perhaps you are more asking, why would he debase himself like that? Voldemort loves debasing himself like that. He lives on the back of a person's head, he lives as a fucked up baby and gets bottle-fed, he lives in the house of people who hate him. He has a Death Eater dress his naked body by hand rather than do it himself. He alludes to his sex life in front of all his DEs. He seeks out people's company and physical proximity even against (especially against) the will of those people; Voldemort loves interacting with these people, even in (especially in) ridiculously humiliating intimate ways. These things are not an issue for him, if they were to be applicable here.

Regardless, I don't believe Voldemort and Bellatrix had a relationship of some sort because I've somehow decided it makes sense by some grand deduction about their characters, I know they had a relationship because it's *written in the books* — It's alluded to virtually every time Bellatrix is on the page. And much more so than, I think, Voldemort hating the purebloods is, though I think a solid argument could be constructed in either direction on that. If anything, the question should be how can the idea that Voldemort despises the purebloods be justified when he has a relationship with Bellatrix?

#submit hate #my thoughts on voldemort #bellamort #voldemort #voldemort meta

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ficretus · 4 months ago

Text

*during Volume 7*

Ruby: General Ironwood, me and my team have some... concerns about your leadership.

Ironwood: *with his back turned* What's an issue?

Weiss: Well first you closed Kingdom's borders.

Ironwood: Necessary precaution. We must impede infiltration of Salem's agents with any means necessary. When Salem sends her people, she is sending her best.

Yang: Then you called Mistral "a shithole Kingdom."

Ironwood: That is not language I usually use, but I stand by my stance about Mistral. I assure you, nobody knows more about Mistral than me.

Blake: Then you claimed Robyn Hill is Vacuan agent sent to undermine Atlas. And you keep demanding to see her birth certificate.

Ironwood: And I am yet to receive those papers.

Ruby: But most concerning is... that cap you are wearing.

Ironwood: What is wrong with my cap, am I not allowed to make rash fashion decisions?

Weiss: You really shouldn't make rash fashion decisions.

Ruby: General Ironwood... turn around.

*Ironwood turns around revealing MAHA cap*

Ruby: Make Atlas High Again?! This was never about saving Remnant, you just want to launch Atlas into stratosphere and leave the rest to die!

Yang: I knew we couldn't trust you!

Ironwood: Wait what? That would be crazy and unsustainable plan. No, my plan is far more reaching. *reaches for his pocket*

Blake: He might be pulling a weapon!

*RWBY reach for their weapons*

Ironwood: This is the key to MAHA plan.

Yang: That's a... blunt.

Ironwood: You see, after I lost my limbs I was prescribed medicinal marijuana for my phantom pain. It seemed silly initially, but then it awakened my Semblance, Woodstock. Every time I smoke weed it clears my mind and I get brilliant ideas.

Ruby: I'm confused.

Weiss: So every time you had a secret meeting with your inner circle... you were... you were... smoking weed?!

Ironwood: Yes. Your sister is way more pleasant and honest conversationalist when she is high.

Yang: Wait, how? I tried it while I was in Branwen bandit camp and it only made me more cranky.

Ironwood: You didn't try the good stuff. And this just confirms my stance on Mistral.

Blake: Nothing beats good catnip.

Ruby: Look, I am gonna ignore this whole post has been hijacked by weed jokes. What exactly is your plan General Ironwood?

Ironwood: Before Atlas gets high, it needs to get low. We are gonna land Atlas before using Relic of Creation. With it, we are gonna create a massive eternal blunt. Using the Winter Maiden power, Specialist Schnee will spread its fumes across the Remnant.

Weiss: How will that fix... ANYTHING!?

Ironwood: It will work as a double protection. Salem and her agents will be neutralized by relaxing effect of the blunt. Grimm are immune to it, but they'll have nothing to latch onto since everyone will be spreading positive vibes. It's a foolproof plan.

Yang: Have you lost your mind? That will never work!

Blake: Subjugation through hedonism. That's a gross violation of free will!

Weiss: I said no to drugs long ago! I am not gonna be defeated by glorified second hand smoke!

Ruby: I'm afraid we have to stop your plan General.

*RWBY pull out their weapons*

Ironwood: Stop me? Did you really think I would parade around with this cap and tell you about my plan if there was a chance of you affecting its outcome? I did it... 35 minutes ago.

*smoke enters the building*

*5 minutes later*

Yang: *giggling* You know what, I loooooooove you Blake!

Blake: Really, just like that?

Yang: Why not, did you expect me to confess while hanging over chasm or something.

*Bees kiss*

Weiss: *giggling* Great, I took one whiff of it and I immediately find myself in indecent company. Mom was so right about drugs.

Yang: Oh, it's gonna get even more indecent. Where is Ruby?

Weiss: She is zooming around the building. Do you think this plan actually worked?

*elsewhere*

Cinder: Maiden powers are so lame, it's the exact same power repeated four times. Such a dumb thing to obsess over. Screw it, I'm getting laid.

Emerald: Me, me, me.

Cinder: Someone loyal, bold, responsible...

Emerald: Me, me, me, me, me.

Cinder: Blond...

Emerald: Sigh, not even with weed.

Salem: I feel like everything I have done just keeps spreading... negative vibes.

Tyrian: Whatever you say my Goddess.

Salem: I am cancelling this whole end of the world thing and getting back with Ozma.

Tyrian: Aw...

#rwby #rwby shitpost #rwby ruby rose #ruby rose #rwby weiss schnee #rwby weiss #rwby blake #blake belladonna #rwby yang #yang xiao long #james ironwood #rwby ironwood

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blakeswritingimagines · 20 days ago

Text

Set My Love On Fire (Kinktober)

Word Count: 3.1k

The soft sound of jazz music filled the room as Elias and you sat cuddled up together on the couch in the cozy apartment. The warm glow of the overhead lights cast a gentle hue on your smiling faces as you both talked about your day and laughed at each other's jokes. Elias wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to him and kissing your forehead tenderly. "This is nice," he murmured, his voice low and soothing. "Just the two of us, together like this." You let out a small sigh of contentment, snuggling into his embrace. "It is," you reply, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your chest. "Just the two of us, in our own little world." Elias strokes your hair gently, his fingers tangling in the strands. "Sometimes I can't believe how lucky I am to have you," he says quietly. "You make every day feel like a dream." Elias' words sent a flutter through your chest, warmth spreading from where his hands caressed your scalp down to your toes. He always had a way with words, making you feel cherished and adored. "I feel the same way about you," you whispered back, nuzzling into his neck. "You're my everything, Elias." The music shifted to a slower, more sensual tune, the tempo mirroring the growing intimacy between you. Elias' hands began to roam, sliding down your back to rest on your hips. His touch was electric, igniting a hunger within you that only he could satisfy. "I want you so badly right now," Elias breathed, his lips grazing your ear. "Can we…?" He trailed off, leaving the question hanging in the air, his intentions clear.

A shiver ran down your spine as his words sent heat pooling in your core. You could feel the tension in his body, the desire in his touch, and it mirrored your own aching need for him. "Yes," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "Please." Elias's grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into your skin just enough to send a spark of pleasure through you. He pulled you closer, his body taut with coiled desire, the air thick with anticipation. "I've been wanting you all day," he murmured against your neck. "I can't wait any longer." Elias captured your lips in a searing kiss, his mouth hot and demanding against yours. One hand slid up your side, cupping your breast through the thin fabric of your shirt, his thumb brushing over your nipple until it pebbled beneath his touch. He tugged impatiently at your clothes, desperate to feel your bare skin against his. "I need you naked," he growled, breaking the kiss long enough to yank your shirt over your head. Buttons flew everywhere as he tore open his own shirt, revealing his chiseled chest and abs. His eyes were dark with lust as they raked over your exposed body, drinking in every curve and hollow. "Fuck, you're perfect," he rasped, his hands skimming over your sensitive flesh, leaving trails of fire in their wake.

Elias' touch was like electricity, igniting a burning desire within you that threatened to consume you both. His words and the heat in his gaze fueled the fire that was consuming your body, leaving you trembling with want. You reached for him, your hands skating over his bare chest, tracing the ridges and planes of his muscles. "Elias," you breathed, your voice shaking with need, "touch me. Please." Elias groaned at the pleading note in your voice, his control slipping away. He pushed you back onto the couch, covering your body with his own, his weight pressing you into the cushions. His mouth found yours again, hungry and insistent, as his hands roamed your curves, exploring every inch of your heated skin. He dipped his head to your breasts, taking one hardened peak into his mouth and sucking hard, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. His free hand slid between your thighs, finding the damp heat there, stroking and teasing until you were writhing beneath him, begging for more. "I'm going to make you scream my name tonight," he promised roughly, his fingers delving deep inside you. "Over and over again." Your mind was a haze of sensation, your body completely under the control of his touch. His words sent a thrill through you, the promise in them stoking the flames in your core. You arched your back, pressing your body into his, craving more of his touch, his kiss, his everything. "Elias," you gasped as his fingers skillfully sought to bring you pleasure, "I need you. Now."

Elias growled in response, his fingers still working magic between your legs while his other hand moved to position himself at your entrance as he pulled his fingers out of you. He thrust inside you in one smooth motion, filling you completely. You cried out, your nails digging into his shoulders as pleasure rippled through you. He began to move, slow at first, giving you time to adjust to his size before picking up speed. His pace grew frantic, his thrusts becoming harder and deeper with each passing moment. "Fuck, you're so tight," he ground out, his breath hitching as he fought to hold on. "I love being inside you." Elias' words, combined with the relentless pounding of his hips, drove you to the brink of ecstasy. Each thrust hit a spot deep within you, sending waves of pleasure crashing over your senses. Your body clung to his, urging him on, as you chased the high he'd awakened within you. "More," you begged, your voice a ragged whisper, "please, Elias, give me more." Elias's eyes flashed with primal desire at your plea, his movements becoming even more urgent. He gripped your hips tightly, angling them to take him even deeper, and then he was slamming into you with abandon, the force of his thrusts rocking the couch. "Take it, baby," he grunted, his voice strained with effort and pleasure. "Take every fucking inch." The room filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin and your mingled moans of ecstasy. Elias's pace was brutal and unrelenting, pushing you higher and higher until you felt the coil of tension in your belly begin to snap. With a keening cry, you came undone, your inner walls clenching around him as wave after wave of bliss washed over you.

Your climax tipped Elias over the edge, his body convulsing as he emptied himself inside you. He collapsed on top of you, panting heavily, his heart hammering against your chest. Gradually, his breathing slowed and he lifted his head to look at you, his expression one of pure satisfaction. "That was incredible," he said huskily, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. "You were amazing." As the aftershocks of pleasure rippled through your body, Elias collapsed beside you on the couch, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. You nestled into his side, relishing the feel of his strong arms around you. After a few moments of comfortable silence, you lifted your head to look at him, a devilish gleam in your eye. "Can I ask you something?" you asked, your voice low and sultry. Elias raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement playing on his lips. "Of course, baby. What's on your mind?" He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer as he waited for your question, his curiosity piqued. You bit your lip, a wicked grin spreading across your face. "Well, I've been wanting to try something new in bed…something adventurous." Elias's eyebrow rose further, a mix of surprise and intrigue flickering in his eyes. "Oh really? Do tell, darling."

You felt a flush of excitement at his anticipation. "I was thinking…maybe we could try something a little different tonight," you said, letting your words hang in the air. Elias's eyes darkened at the implication, a smirk playing on his lips. "And what exactly did you have in mind, love?" "Wax play," you replied bluntly, watching as his lips parted in surprise. "I've always been curious about it, and I thought it might be fun if we tried it." Elias's expression shifted as he processed the idea, his gaze growing heated as the possibilities set in. He ran his fingers through his hair, a habit he had when deep in thought. "I see," he murmured, his voice husky. "You want me to drip hot wax on your naked body." Elias's eyes glinted with intrigue and arousal as he considered your request. "It's definitely not something I've done before, but I'm always up for trying new things with you," he said, his voice dripping with seduction. "As long as you're sure about this, I'll do whatever makes you happy." He leaned in close, his warm breath caressing your ear as he whispered, "Just imagine the feeling of the molten wax against your skin, the sting followed by the coolness as it solidifies. And then there's the visual - your body adorned with intricate patterns, glistening with wax." Elias's words painted a vivid picture, stoking the flames of desire within you. "Let's get started," you breathed, your pulse racing with anticipation. Elias grinned, getting up to grab a candle and a lighter.

You watched as Elias rummaged through a drawer, your heart thudding in your chest with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. When he returned, he held a long, slender candle, the wax a rich, creamy white. He also had a lighter clutched in his hand, the flame dancing at its tip. Elias settled back onto the couch beside you, his gaze fixed on your face, searching for any hint of hesitation. "Are you ready for this, love?" he asked, his voice thick with desire. You nodded eagerly, your body trembling with anticipation. "Yes, I'm ready," you assured him, reaching out to take the candle from his hand. You examined the candle, running your fingers over the smooth surface, before turning to meet Elias's gaze once more. "Show me how it's done," you commanded, your voice laced with lust. Elias's eyes widened at your boldness, surprised by your eagerness. He chuckled darkly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. He nodded, taking the candle back from you and lighting it with the lighter. Once it was burning steadily, he held it up, the wick glowing orange. "Just relax and trust me," he instructed, his voice soothing. "Let me take care of you, love." Elias gently guided your body onto your stomach, positioning you so that your back was exposed to him. He drizzled a small amount of wax onto your skin, watching intently as it cooled and hardened into a delicate pattern. Then, with a steady hand, he applied more wax, creating a design that seemed to dance across your flesh. "You're doing beautifully," he praised, his fingers trailing along the edges of the wax, making sure it adhered properly. He occasionally blew on the wax as he worked, causing it to melt slightly before hardening again, leaving behind a mesmerizing texture. Elias continued to adorn your back with intricate designs, each one more breathtaking than the last. Finally, he stepped back to admire his handiwork, a satisfied smile on his face. "There, all done," he announced, his voice tinged with pride.

You lay there, eyes closed, completely boneless and blissful. The sensations on your skin were unlike anything you had ever experienced before; the heat, the cold, the slight sting, the smooth texture of the wax. It was like nothing else existed except for the sensations Elias was creating on your body. "That was…" you murmured, your voice trailing off as you struggled to find the words to describe the experience. Elias knelt beside you, his hands gently tracing the wax designs on your back. "Words can't capture it, can they?" he mused, his fingers grazing the sensitive skin beneath your shoulder blades. "But maybe this will help." He dipped his finger into the still-molten wax, collecting a small bead. Carefully, he placed it on your lower back, just above the curve of your ass. As it cooled, he blew softly, watching it spread and pool, forming a small, shimmering puddle. "We could add some color to it," Elias suggested, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "A nice red to contrast with the white." He reached for another candle, this one tinted a deep crimson. "What do you think, love? Want a little pop of color on your beautiful skin?" Your body jerked slightly at the new texture on your skin, the hot wax sending a small jolt of pleasure through you. You hummed in agreement, your eyes still closed as you savored the sensations. "Yes," you said breathlessly, "Please."

Elias smiled, pleased by your enthusiasm. He dripped a small amount of the red wax onto your lower back, near the spot where the previous bead had formed. As it cooled, he used his fingers to shape it into a tiny heart, the contrasting colors creating a striking visual effect. "There you go," he said, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your shoulder blade. "A little love token, just for you." His hands roamed over your back, admiring his handiwork. "You know, I never realized how much I'd enjoy decorating someone like this," Elias confessed, his voice low and intimate. "Seeing the wax melt and harden on your skin, creating these unique patterns…it's incredibly arousing." He nuzzled your neck, his warm breath tickling your ear. You shivered at his words, the combination of the sensation of the wax on your skin and his voice so close to your ear sending tingles down your spine. "I never realized how much I would enjoy being decorated like this," you admitted, your voice thick with desire. "But I am," you added, arching your back slightly, presenting your body to him with a wiggle of your hips, "very much enjoying it." Elias groaned, his hands sliding down to grip your hips as he pulled you back against him. "Fuck, you're driving me crazy," he muttered, his hardness pressing insistently against your ass. "I want to mark every inch of you, make you mine in ways no one else has." His fingers dug into your skin, leaving faint impressions as he ground against you. "Tell me what else you need, love. I'll give you everything."

Your breath hitched at the intensity of his words and actions, your body responding instinctively to his touch. "I need you inside me again," you whimpered, pushing back against him urgently. "Fill me up and make me yours." Your hands fumbled between your legs, seeking the warmth of your core. "Please, Elias, I ache for you." With a growl, Elias flipped you over onto your back, hovering above you with a predatory gleam in his eyes. "As you wish," he purred, he stroked himself a few times, coating the head with pre-cum before positioning himself at your entrance. "Ready for me, baby?" Elias asked, his voice strained with desire. Without waiting for an answer, he thrust forward, sheathing himself to the hilt in one powerful stroke. A guttural moan escaped him as he felt your tight heat enveloping him. "Christ, you feel incredible," he gasped, beginning to move, his hips snapping against yours in a relentless rhythm. Your nails dug into Elias's shoulders as he filled you so completely, a sharp cry escaping your lips at the sudden intrusion. But as he started to move, the pain melted away, replaced by waves of intense pleasure. "Oh god, yes!" you cried out, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him deeper. "Harder, Elias! Fuck me harder!" Your body arched off the bed, meeting his thrusts with equal fervor. The room filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin and your mingled moans of ecstasy.

Elias obliged your plea, pounding into you with unbridled passion. The force of his thrusts made the couch creak ominously, but neither of you cared, lost as you were in the primal dance of lust and desire. "Take it, baby, take every fucking inch just like that," Elias grunted, his breath coming in ragged pants as he drove into you again and again. One of his hands slid down to grasp your thigh, using it as leverage to piston even deeper. The other found your breast, pinching and rolling the nipple between his fingers, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. "So fucking tight," he groaned, his pace becoming erratic as he neared his climax. "Gonna fill you up, love. Gonna mark you as mine." Your vision blurred at the intensity of the sensations overwhelming you. Every nerve ending felt electrified, each brush of Elias's body against yours igniting a firestorm within. "Y-yes, please!" you begged, your voice hoarse with need. "Claim me, make me yours!" As if summoned by your plea, Elias's thrusts grew more urgent, his cock throbbing inside you as he chased his release. The hand on your thigh tightened its grip, while the one on your breast squeezed almost painfully, sending you hurtling towards the edge. With a final, brutal plunge, Elias buried himself to the hilt, his member pulsating as he spilled his seed deep within you. The sensation of his hot cum filling you triggered your own orgasm, and you came apart with a scream of pure bliss, your inner walls clenching rhythmically around him.

Elias collapsed on top of you, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. His spent cock remained nestled inside you, still twitching with aftershocks. After a moment, he rolled to the side, taking you with him so that you ended up curled against his sweat-dampened torso. "Holy fuck, that was intense," he murmured, his arms wrapping around you in a possessive embrace. "You okay, love?" Elias asked, concern creeping into his voice despite the sated look on his face. "That was quite a ride." He brushed a strand of hair from your forehead, his touch gentle now compared to the fierce passion of moments ago. You nodded, still trying to process the overwhelming sensations that had just coursed through your body. "I'm…I'm more than okay," you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper. "That was…amazing." You snuggled closer to Elias, relishing the warmth of his body and the feeling of being held so securely. "Thank you," you murmured, meaning it deeply. "For everything." Your hand traced idle patterns on his chest, marveling at the rapid beat of his heart. In this quiet moment, with the aftermath of their lovemaking still lingering, you felt a profound connection to Elias, a sense of belonging you'd never known before. And as you drifted off to sleep in his arms, you knew that this was only the beginning of a journey together.

#elias pettersson #elias pettersson x reader #elias pettersson x you #elias pettersson x yn #elias pettersson smut #nhl imagine #nhl smut #nhl fic #vancouver canucks #kinktober #kinktober 2024

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