#I don’t even know WHY I think witches are so hot | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

heeliopheelia · 2 months

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𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐒/𝐎 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 𝐁𝐑𝐎

genre: fluff, established relationship

word count: 1.7k

warnings: hoon’s quite suggestive, jake’s hinting suggestive content but it’s really up to your own interpretation lmaoo, kissing

a/n: yayyy, this one has been sitting in my drafts FOREVER!! so glad to finally put it out...

masterlist

LEE HEESEUNG

You can’t help but chuckle into his lips, teeth clashing slightly when his cold hands make contact with the skin underneath your top. Heeseung pulls away from the kiss, raising his eyebrow at your behavior before realizing that the reason for your laughter comes from the touch of hands.

Already knowing his ill intentions of tickling you by his expression, you put your hands over his and speak before you can even think of your words first.

“Bro, don’t even-”

Your words are interrupted with a loud scoff. “What did you just call me, you little witch?”

“Hey!”

“You see, things like that really make me rethink our relationship.”

You burst out laughing away before shoving his face away gently. “You’re so mean.”

“You’re the mean one for even letting such words come to your mind while addressing me.”

You roll your eyes, biting back a smile before grabbing his neck and trying to smush your lips together. A whine rips out of your throat when he denies you your kiss and looks at you as if you were crazy.

“Just come here, you dramatic ass! I haven’t seen you in a whole week!”

Heeseung flicks your nose instead. “Exactly! You haven’t seen me in an entire week and the first word that comes to your mind is bro. Really?”

You groan loudly, throwing your head back as you prepare yourself for the next fifteen minutes of bickering with your boyfriend. “Oh my god-”

PARK JAY

“Why would you ever call me that, oh my god.”

His frown is enough to make you burst out with chuckles. You grab onto his arm as you catch up to him, letting the glass door of the small convenience store shut behind you.

“I thought that was funny,” you chirp up at him, batting your eyelashes innocently.

“And in public too? You really want me to go gray before my thirties, don’t you?”

You raise your arm up and run your hand through his soft hair, pretending to actually consider his question. “I think you’d actually look rather hot with salt-pepper hair, you know? You’d look ravishing with any hairstyle, really.”

Jay sends you an unamused look as you keep giggling. “Sweet words aren't gonna get you anywhere, miss.”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” you finally fold as you slip your hand into his.

Jay intertwines your fingers without skipping a beat, before tugging on your arm and pulling you even closer to him.

“Please, don’t ever do that again. I might actually go crazy.”

SIM JAKE

You look with slight disappointment at your boyfriend occupied with his game – too occupied to notice you’ve called him a bro instead of baby for the second time this past five minutes. Sitting boredly on his bed, you sigh again.

“What is it, angel?” Jake asks, eyes drawn to the screen and never sparing you a look.

You never minded when he spent his evenings gaming, you know everyone has their own stress relievers, but tonight you were just so damn bored you didn’t know what else to do.

“Nothing, bro,” you snap a little sharper than intended, slightly irked by his innocent negligence. “I’m gonna order some take out. What do you want?”

Only then, couple seconds of silence later, your words seem to click and Jake pauses his game and turns to you with a slightly perplexed expression. “Wait… Could you repeat that?”

You roll your eyes. “I said, I’m gonna order som-”

“No, that word you’ve just called me,” he cuts you off with a pout. “Why would you say that?”

You shrug, dragging out your upset act although there’s barely a spark of annoyance in your system by now.

“Dunno. Maybe I just wanted my boyfriend to pay attention to me finally after I’ve been begging for it for an hour now.”

Jake coos at you before standing up and walking over to you, abandoning his game completely and engulfing you in his embrace.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he mumbles into your neck as you fall backwards on his bedsheets, your boyfriend on top of you. He kisses up a trail up to your jawline, then moves to your lips for a moment and dragging it out longer and longer. “Lemme make it up to you, huh?”

PARK SUNGHOON

“What’s gotten you so quiet?” Sunghoon asks as he nudges you with his hip, standing right beside you.

You finish washing your face before patting it dry with a towel, ignoring his questioning look as he pierces you through the mirror. You put the towel next to the sink before sighing.

“I don’t know, bro,” you say, biting your smile back as you notice his eyebrows raising up at the unusual nickname. “I guess I’m just tired.”

Sunghoon snorts quietly before turning to face you, leaning his hip against the marble counter. “Really?”

You look at him with fake confusion, tilting your head to the side as you blink innocently. “What do you mean?”

“If I remember correctly, I was just blowing your back out ten minutes ago and now you’re here calling me this fraternal slur?” He claps back, smiling lazily as your eyes go wide at his bold words.

“Sunghoon! Oh my god,” you gasp, smacking his bare chest with your towel. “Have you got no shame?”

He barks out a laugh before walking up to you and grabbing you by your hips. “Maybe that’ll make you think twice before trying your stupid shit on me again.” And as these words leave his mouth, he’s leaning down and smacking his lips onto yours, already pulling you to your bedroom again.

KIM SUNOO

“A WHAT?”

Your arms fall to your sides, and you watch as your beloved boyfriend goes into a fucking spiral over a nickname that’s just slipped out by an accident. “Sunoo, baby, please, calm d-”

“I know you did not just call me bro. Don’t ever talk to me again.”

You follow him out of the kitchen from where he storms out, an outraged expression on his face. You stifle your laughter and put on a serious facade as he drops down on the couch with an irritated huff, muttering under his nose about how unbelievable you were being.

You take a seat next to him and place your hand on his thigh. “I swear, I only said that out of habit.”

“Yeah, what’s next in the store for me?” He asks and this time you can’t help but chuckle. “No, tell me. When should I be prepared for you to start calling me homie or gang?”

“It’s not that serious!” You laugh in his face, only making his expression more sour. But how can you help it when he looks at you as if you’ve just pissed in his cereal bowl?

“I’ve literally never been more offended in my life.”

You wrap your arms around his neck and pepper his cheeks with kisses, hoping this will ease him out sooner. “I’m sorry, my beloved, my heart, my everything.”

“Keep talking and you might be forgiven somewhere in the future.”

YANG JUNGWON

“I was thinking about buying that one perfume lately,” you say suddenly, eyes planted at the tv as the commercial reminded you of your last trip to the mall.

“Are you sure?” Jungwon hums, resting his head over yours that’s leaned on his shoulder. “It was rather expensive, no? I don’t want you regretting buying it two days later.”

“I know, bro,” you groan and turn your face to bury it in his neck. You don’t notice his head tilting to look at you a little questionably. “That’s why I’m thinking about it. I don’t know if I’ll actually commit.”

There’s a brief silence before his sweet voice follows after the kiss he presses to your hair.

“I don’t think that’s my name, baby.”

You pull away, slightly confused, blinking up at your boyfriend. “What?”

“Out of all the nicknames you’ve given me, I liked that one the least.”

It takes you a moment to click and finally comprehend his words, and when you do, you let out a small huff at his still rather soft way with words.

You wrap your arms around his middle. “Oh… Sorry, I didn’t actually mean to say that.”

“It’s okay,” he assures quickly, bringing you closer to his warm chest, a steady heartbeat beating underneath his sweatshirt.

“Well, which one do you like the most?” You ask, implying to his previous thought.

Jungwon ponders for a moment. “Hm, I don’t know. I like all of them, really. Won is pretty nice, or my love… I like dumpling surprisingly a lot too.”

You can’t help but laugh at his answer, mind barely recalling the one and only time you jokingly referred to him as a dumpling while you pinched on his dimpled cheek lovingly.

“Gosh, you’re so cute.”

NISHIMURA RIKI

“Can you pass me the salt, bro?” You ask your boyfriend who’s sitting on your left.

You’re too focused on frowning upon the bland food you’ve made to notice how Riki’s eyebrows furrowed up at his new nickname.

After not having a response in the following minute, you turn to him with surprise as you notice the look on his face.

“I don’t know, sis, I think your hands are fully capable, no?” He chirps at you and you gape at him with confusion before the realization dawns on you.

You snort, shaking your head at your boyfriend. “Don’t be a child, I didn’t mean to say that. It just slipped out.”

Riki hums. “Dunno, it sounded pretty natural to me, sis. Almost as if it was your regular nickname for me, sis.”

“Stop it!” You whine out, dropping your fork before glaring at the smirking man on your left. “I didn’t mean it. Now, give me a kiss.”

You pucker your lips and lean forward, only to be met with his hand pressed flat to your mouth. Your eyebrows shoot high as he chuckles at you.

“Sorry but I’m not into incestious relationships.”

“Riki, c’mon!” You groan, kicking his shin underneath the table harmlessly.

He cups your cheeks with a laugh and squishes your face with his fingers. “‘m just teasing,” he muses before leaning in and closing the gap between you.

permanent taglist @bambisgirl @arizejkt19 @luvmura @milisabunny @cathy-1997 @satoruskitchenrag @ramenoil @jenjnk @jaylaxies @yoongspi @nichoswag @s00buwu @dazzlingligth @seungiesluv @i4kt @heehoonsnemo @seongslutt

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noosayog · 6 months

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002 get him back!

✧ wc: 4k

✧ warnings/content: miya osamu x fem!reader, sfw, fake dating au, angst to fluff,

✧ GUTS masterlist, regular masterlist

divider from @/cafekitsune

It all started when Miya Atsumu said that you would never be able to find anyone who could put up with you. And you would have taken that with a grain of salt, if Miya Atsumu wasn't your ex who also happened to be a thorough asshole.

“Well you dated me didn’t you?!”

“And we broke up, duh.” he says flippantly.

You clam up at that. You know he’s just saying things. He doesn’t mean it and he’s a complete moron. But it’s been almost a year since the break-up and not a single man has even offered to buy you a drink. Are you going to have to resort to making a Hinge profile?

–

“I don’t know why ya let him get to ya. He’s just a moron,” Osamu says.

“You have to say that, he’s your brother,” you grumble.

“True. But he is an idiot.”

You plop your face heavily into the elbow resting on the counter and blow raspberries in one big exhale.

“Don’t get yer spit all over where my customers eat.”

You grunt, turning over to watch Osamu work behind the counter.

“Do you think I’m unlovable?” you ask.

“Huh?”

“There must be a reason no one’s asked me out on a date in the past 8 months, right?”

Osamu sighs, dropping off a plate of food in front of you. “I’m not gonna answer that.” Then he turns with his back facing you to fiddle with something on the other side of the kitchen.

“Why not?”

He exhales through his nose, quiet, but you hear it.

He doesn’t get the chance to answer because the door swings open to reveal Osamu’s twin. You jolt up, fixing your posture, self-conscious about letting Atsumu think his words are getting to you.

And rightfully so because Atsumu acts like a shark that smells blood. His lips curl up into what he thinks is a smirk, but resembles much more of a snarl.

“What’s up with ya,” he asks oh-so-innocently.

You have no good response and feel your face heating up in embarrassment when Osamu swoops in.

“Are ya gonna sit down or just block my door? ‘Cause I got people that actually pay to eat here.”

Atsumu starts yelling something at Osamu but simmers down into the seat next to you and mumbles something to himself, no doubt some choice words for his brother. It gives you momentary reprieve from Atsumu’s provocation which is the last thing you need right now with your self-esteem in the dumps.

The break is temporary though, because like a true creature with short-term memory and a propensity for being a prick, Atsumu circles back to the topic when he’s done eating.

“So, found a guy to take you out?”

“What makes you think I’d answer that question,” you bite back. Weak, but it’s all you have.

“Hah,” he scoffs. “I knew it. Ya can’t find anyone.”

You feel the irritation boiling like a witch’s cauldron inside of you, brewing a mix of resentment, mortification, and the tiniest streak of competitiveness. Atsumu not shutting up for the rest of the night is the final ingredient that makes your red hot concoction boil over. It goes a bit like this:

“Tell me if ya want me to set ya up with someone from the team. Might be the only chance ya get at this rate,” he teases.

“No thanks,” you hiss. “I’ll have you know that I’m dating Osamu, widely known as the better Miya.” You point smugly at Osamu whose back is currently to you both.

“What!” Atsumu yells. “Osamu? And you?”

With Osamu’s back to you, you can’t see his face, but all your fingers and toes are crossed that he’ll play along so that you don’t burn up in a gas of complete humiliation.

When Osamu turns around, his eyes go to you first. They search yours for something – what, you don’t know. He apparently finds it because he blinks away and tells his brother to mind his own business, neither denying nor validating your claim.

It might as well be confirmation though, because Atsumu squawks in indignation, sputtering his disbelief. Osamu continues to bicker with his brother, keeping him occupied enough to not realize that he was slowly being backed out of the restaurant.

When Osamu slams the door on Atsumu and twists the lock in a dramaticized show of finality, Atsumu finally gives up, yelling a muffled “I’ll be back.” through the windows. You could laugh at the duo if Osamu didn’t turn around and fix you with a look, similar to that of a responsible older brother scolding a child.

“Now yer turn. What was that about?”

“Osamu! You heard the way he was talking to me. I just can’t stand it!”

“Have ya thought this through? How’s this supposed to end, huh? We break up and Atsumu goes back to making fun of ya?”

You open your mouth to beg, because it’s always worked with Osamu. He always gives in. But he’s not done, apparently.

“‘Least ya could’ve done is ask me out, not use me to get through yer petty grudge with ‘Tsumu.”

That shuts you up. When you look at Osamu, he’s not looking at you. His eyes are downcast, distracting himself by wiping up the counter. It’s so brief that you convince yourself that you imagined the hurt in his voice.

“‘Samu…”

“Forget it. I’ll do it, but ya better have it thought out because I’m not helping ya anymore than this.”

It should be a win and any other time, you would wrap him up in a bear hug and shower him with thanks, but the defeated way Osamu concedes makes you solemnly finish your meal. It feels unfitting to say thank you.

–

Your first stint as Osamu’s girlfriend comes in the form of a friend’s dinner party. Since the night you forced Osamu to be your boyfriend, you have been back at Onigiri Miya to hang out, but have painfully tiptoed around the topic. The thought has occurred to you that you and Osamu should agree upon a backstory, but you haven’t had the courage to breach the topic after the way Osamu reacted.

He had just nodded when you asked him to attend this dinner party with you. And with that, he had dutifully picked you up at your apartment, perfectly on time. You had expected a stone-faced Osamu all night, but he had surprised you with a sweet smile, one that you’re used to being on the receiving end of. But it somehow feels different tonight. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s supposed to be smiling at you as your lover tonight. It was easy, the way he had held out his arm for you, no awkwardness in sight.

At dinner, Osamu makes no move to let go of your hand, going as far as to intertwine your fingers under the table. When any one asks how the two of you began dating, he squeezes to tell you he’ll handle this. You’re grateful and you feel undeservingly spoiled as you watch him. He looks around the room, drifts his gaze back to you where his lips flicker upwards for the tiniest second, then looks back at the crowd to flash a mysterious, close-lipped smile. You can barely hear the dinner table go wild with jeers and Atsumu squawking as you gawk at Osamu’s act.

And it goes on.

As you eat, he keeps your fingers clasped between his, laid on his lap. Atsumu gives you two the stink-eye, questioning why Osamu was eating with his left hand. You’re pretty sure your eyes are bulging out of your head at this point, because Osamu flushes. Osamu is blushing as he reluctantly lets go of your hand, making a show out of placing your hand back on your own lap and mumbling a heavily-accented apology at no one in particular.

–

When dinner finally ends, the party migrates to the living room. Osamu doesn’t need to ask, perfectly picking your favorite after-dinner drink of choice as he chooses a beer for himself. He has once again claimed your hand in his. His grip is tight and when you try to slip your hand out to get some space, he holds tighter.

You lean up to whisper in his ear, “Osamu, my hands are sweaty.”

He leans down to hear you better, but stands back up when he registers your comment. He ignores you, only squeezing twice, as if telling you to behave for him. Your head spins; you’ve never dated like this before.

Being with Atsumu was like living in a comically unrealistic sit-com, like you were constantly finding yourself in situations and having conversations that belong in a Tom and Jerry episode. He argued with you about everything, had an ego, and a temper. A particularly memorable moment was when he was still courting you, trying to convince you to date him by saying, “I’m six foot two.”

“Dude, nice try,” you had said.

But somehow, right now, with Osamu standing by your side and towering over you, you think that if this younger twin used that line on you right now, you’d fold in half for him. As if you wouldn’t with all the sweet nothings he’s lavished on you in this one night.

He only lets you get away when you embarrassingly whisper to him that you need a bathroom break.

“I’ll walk with ya.”

“No!” you exclaim. You lower your voice when he stares at you. “It’s okay, ‘Samu. I’ll be right back, okay?”

He backs off and you finally get away from his orbit.

Finally alone, you barely pull yourself together. You stare at your reflection in the mirror, slapping your cheeks lightly to pry the strange daze from your eyes. You can’t get carried away here. Osamu is doing you a favor, one he isn’t fond of. You can’t get used to Osamu treating you like this. It’s borrowed time.

You splash water onto your face, waiting until the chill seeps into your cheeks that have been painfully hot since Osamu picked you up tonight.

As you exit the bathroom, Atsumu is there waiting for you in the hallway.

“I’m onto ya,” he starts.

You scoff, immediately putting your facade back on. It’s easy with Atsumu. “Oh please, Atsumu. You’re just jealous.”

It doesn't phase Atsumu the way you hope. “Such a weak comeback. Sounds like something you’d say to disguise the fact that yer playin’ my brother.” Your brother is the one playing me.

“Whatever, Atsumu,” you say, walking away, taking Osamu’s advice to not let Atsumu get to you.

“I bet ya forced my brother to pretend to be yer boyfriend. I know my brother and I know you. Just admit it.” He smirks. “It’s okay that no one wants to date ya. Nothin’ to be ashamed of.”

The fact that even Atsumu, even all of his stupidity, sees right through you makes you feel hot. You’re grateful that you’ve already turned away from him because you could not take much more damage tonight. Nothing would end you in a worse way than Atsumu seeing that he could make you cry.

Or maybe it’s the fact that Atsumu doesn’t, for one second, believe that someone like his brother could fall for someone like you. Maybe no one does. Maybe everyone here just thinks that you’re making this up and they’re playing along to help you save face.

It takes everything in you to keep your steps and breathing even as you take the walk back to Osamu to compose yourself.

It’s useless apparently because Osamu seems right through you. He immediately offers to take you to the balcony, explaining to everyone that you need some fresh air to cut through the alcohol you’ve had.

His silent understanding makes it worse because it makes it clear that you’re an open book. The act you put on is completely pointless because no one believes you anyway.

Osamu guides you to the balcony and shuts the door behind him, leaving the two of you alone.

He joins you at the railing, draping his jacket over you. You know he knows that you want to avoid looking into his eyes, just as much as he knows you want to avoid having this conversation altogether. He sighs.

“Why do ya let him get to you like that?”

You look back at him, eyes widening at the tone he rarely takes with you. His eyes are fixed forward, arms still dutifully wrapped around you, ever the dedicated boyfriend. But as his gaze flickers to you momentarily, you catch the weight of his question in his eyes.

“Who?” you mumble.

But Osamu’s not in the mood. He stays silent, letting the question hang in the air.

“I don’t know… I just…”

“Are ya still in love with my brother?”

“No,” you answer honestly.

Osamu raises his brows.

“No, but I’ve known him for so long now.” You feel the need to explain. “He just gets under my skin. You of all people should understand – he’s your brother! You guys fight all day long.”

“He’s my brother. We shared a womb. We were born to fight.” Osamu sighs. “You, though... Why can’t ya just let it go?”

“I don’t know! I just…” you trail off.

He continues to stare at you, not even knowing the effect he has on you. His earnest gaze pulls the truth out from under your skin.

“I wanna get him back,” you admit.

Osamu’s eyes go dark at that statement. His expression shutters.

“Not like that!” you quickly amend. “Not like I want to get back with him, I mean like, his face just pisses me off!”

“Huh?”

“I just wanna punch him in the face but I don’t think anything would give me more satisfaction than proving him wrong you know. And honestly, Osamu, you-”

“Ya think that I’m the perfect person to piss him off for ya. ‘Cause I’m his brother and there’s no one else who would get under his skin more than if I replaced him.”

You hear the disappointment heavy in his intonation.

“Osamu…”

“Am I wrong?”

He’s not wrong, but you feel an urge to tell him how he made you tingle at dinner. It was in the way he catered to your whims, covered for you, and held your hand in secret. It was in the way he, as your not-boyfriend, made you feel loved and desired much more so than any other boyfriend you’ve ever had before.

But when you look at his side profile, face now turned away from you and hidden by the shadows of the night, it doesn’t feel right to say any of that. Even in your mind, it sounds like an excuse. Because the bottom line is that he’s right. Your original intentions had been to use Osamu. And the fact that you might have developed a slight crush on him in the process doesn’t make you feel any less shitty and certainly doesn’t make Osamu feel any less used.

His question goes unanswered.

–

The rest of the week goes by uneventfully. Actually, it goes by too uneventfully because Osamu doesn’t call or text once. Not that you’ve made an effort, but after how that last conversation with Osamu ended, you can’t find the courage to face Osamu.

It doesn’t make you miss him any less.

You can’t recall if you used to miss Osamu like this, think about him and wish he’d reach out even if it’s only been a couple of days since you’ve last met. You only know that right now, you wish he’d make the first move because you can’t muster up the nerve to see him, even if it’s all you wanted. It also makes you realize that Osamu has been spoiling you long before that night and long before he agreed to be your fake boyfriend. The reason you never had to miss him is because he is always the one who makes the effort to call, text, bring you lunch, pick you up from work, drive you around.

The realization only made you feel worse about yourself.

And after days of mulling over realization after realization, each making you guiltier and guiltier, you made your decision.

That’s how you end up running to Osamu’s apartment, late on a Thursday evening. Without pausing to compose yourself, afraid you’ll lose your momentum, you knock.

The door swings open to reveal a very tired-looking, very handsome Osamu. He has his cap off, but his hair is unruly, as if his fingers have just recently run through it. His eyes are slightly bloodshot and his t-shirt is wrinkled. The urge to rub your thumb over his eyelids and smooth your other hand over this shirt is a sudden one you shove down because Osamu’s opening his mouth.

“Hey, what’cha doing here so late?”

There’s a momentary disappointment that strikes your gut. He asks you so normally, as if he isn’t plagued with thoughts of avoiding you. As if the couple of days that have gone by without any interaction between the two of you isn’t even a thought that occupies headspace.

“Uh,” you stutter.

“Actually,” he sighs and glances behind him. “Now’s not a good time. Can ya-”

“I don’t care about Atsumu,” you cut him off. It sounds like he’s preparing a rejection. Or he just doesn’t want to talk. Neither of which are favorable outcomes, so you barrel through to say what you need to say.

“I don’t care about what he thinks. Not anymore and definitely not that night. I was actually thinking about you the entire time and Atsumu, well, he’s just-”

“Just wait a minute, okay-”

“He just gets under my nerves because of the shit he says and I know he’s just saying stuff to rile me up and I’m a hothead, okay? He gets me because we’re like the same person sometimes, but I’m not doing this to get back at him anymore. It’s actually your fault because-”

“I knew it!” a voice yells from behind Osamu.

You crane your neck to see around Osamu and curse Osamu’s big frame for taking up the entire doorway and blocking your view of the apartment because there is the older twin, grinning widely and walking up to where you’re both standing.

You instantly feel the panic rise in your system.

“Atsumu,” Osamu begins in a warning tone.

Ignoring his brother, Atsumu continues on. “I knew it. I knew the two of ya couldn’t be dating just like that.”

Your nervous system goes into overdrive. Even you know how this looks.

You barged into Osamu’s place randomly at night and picked the time when Atsumu coincidentally is here as well.

Your wide eyes meet Osamu, willing him to believe that you didn’t come to make a scene for Atsumu’s viewing. You didn’t come to confess that you might have a crush on him with this exact timing so that Atsumu would fall for the act.

When Osamu refuses to meet your eyes, it brings your attention back to Atsumu, who continues to gloat about his victory.

Your face burns in mortification as you take slow steps away from the twins, making room for your getaway. As Atsumu gets closer and Osamu continues to avoid your gaze, your courage wanes and the last bit of pride you’re holding onto propels you to turn away instead of retorting as you always do.

“Aww, really let my words get to ya, didn’t ya? I knew all along-”

Before you can start running, Osamu grabs your arm and pulls you into the apartment, the other arm shoving Atsumu out.

“Hey, ‘Samu!”

“Shut the fuck up, ‘Tsumu. Now that my girlfriend’s here to spend the night, get out.” Osamu shuts the door in his face.

Atsumu’s protests fall on deaf ears, the sound of Osamu referring to you as his girlfriend echoing in your mind. He had taken your side, chosen to take the course of action that would embarrass you to least despite not having confirmed what your intentions were. The thought fills you with hope.

He pulls you further into the apartment, sitting you on the barstool. After situating you on the chair, he makes to step out of your personal space, but you lean forward, wrapping your arms around his neck to keep him close. Your eyes start to sting in frustration that Osamu could somehow believe that this was all just another incident you had orchestrated to get back at his brother. This has all gotten so hopelessly messy.

“Osamu,” you sniffle into his neck. “I didn’t come over here and say all that because I knew Atsumu was listening. I just-” missed you.

He rubs soothing circles into your back, gently enough to make you want to cry more because you don’t deserve this but want it so badly.

“You just…?” he prompts.

The words won’t come out and your tears soak into his shirt. You want to tell him so badly that you’re not crying to garner his sympathy; you’re crying because you’re so angry with yourself.

Osamu patiently strokes your back, letting you cry before quietly telling you, “Oh, baby. How long do ya think we’ve known each other? I know yer not the type to set up this whole complicated scenario just to show up my stupid brother. I believe ya.”

His other arm is now holding your head to his neck, fingers running lightly across your scalp. “So can ya finish what you were about to say for me?”

His words and his actions do what they always do to you. They fill you with so much hope that there’s no room to mistaken his intentions. They fill you with the courage to tell him.

“Missed you,” you whisper.

Finally, both of his arms wrap around your back to push you tight into his chest. He squeezes, gentle enough to keep you safe but firm enough to tell you he wants you there. It pulls the confession out of you.

“And I like you so much, Osamu.”

He chuckles lightly into your ear. You can feel the vibrations echo in his chest. When you squeeze back, he trails his arms down to your legs to guide them around his waist. He carries you with ease to the couch and sits you down to cry in his lap.

You don’t know how long the two of you sit like that for, but when you finally calm down, you keep your arms wrapped around him and quietly ask, “why did you do all this for someone like me?”

He stops stroking your hair.

“What, ya don’t like it?”

You pull away to protest, already too comfortable with him spoiling you again, only to find the corner of his lips quirked up in a smirk.

He’s teasing, you realize.

You smack his face weakly and wind your arms back around him.

You snuggle back into his neck but he’s the one who pulls you back this time.

“Hey, seriously though,” he says. “Is this okay?”

You nod shyly.

“I need to hear it, sweetheart.”

“I want it.”

“Alright. C’mere then.”

You oblige.

“Can I tell ya a secret?” he murmurs into your neck.

You nod.

“There isn’t a man out there who’d do all that for someone he doesn’t love, ya know that?”

It makes you flustered, but much of what Osamu does does that to you. His tenderness makes you want to try harder to meet him in the middle.

“Can I do something?” you ask, taking a leap. Your face is incredibly hot and your heart is beating embarrassingly loudly against his. “Is it okay if I kiss you?”

It’s easy when he responds, “You can do anything ya want to me.”

You intend for it to be an innocent peck, your form of an apology. But he holds the back of your neck, the other arm wrapped almost all the way around your torso and doesn’t let go until you’re panting against his open mouth.

He’s nonchalant when he shrugs.

“You can do anything ya want but I’ll be doing the same from now on.”

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sunny44 · 1 year

Text

New bra

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Girlfriend!reader

Warnings: mentions of sex, lingerie

Summary: Y/n bought a new set of lingerie and and decided to send a picture for her boyfriend.

After spending the day at the mall with my best friend to distract myself from the fact that I will not see my boyfriend for another week, I ended up buying many things including a new set of lingerie in red.

Obviously Charles will love the fact that it is this color and after I took a shower and put it on to see how it would look I had the idea of sending him a picture to see how he would react.

Charlie 💋

Baaaaaabe

Come here

I have a surprise for you

Charlie 💋

Hey baby girl

I'm here ready for my surprise

Are you alone?

Charlie 💋

Yes

Why?

I want your opinion on something

What do you think about this?

Charlie 💋

Holy fuck

Why? Just why?

Why did you have to send me this?

You don't like it?

Charlie 💋

That's the problem

I like it too much and know I'll have to take a cold shower and because of you I'm gonna get late for an important meeting

Okay so I'll never send this types of photo for you again

Charlie 💋

Don't do that

Keep sending

Just tell me before you do it

Well I'm going to take a shower and I'll talk to you later

Love you

Love you more Charlie

And I can't wait for you to get home so you can see this in person

Charlie 💋

Believe me I'll rip this off of you in the moment I get in the house

Wait for me wearing that

Whatever you want

See you ❤️

After this conversation the only thing I could do was laugh, but I knew that the moment he came home things would get really hot.

...

When he told me he was coming home I decided to prepare a special dinner for us but when he arrived he didn't even give me time to say anything, he just grabbed me and started kissing me.

"I really hope you are wearing that lingerie under this dress." He says kissing my neck.

"I'm not." He squeezes my ass harder. "But underneath this dress there is nothing."

"That’s even better." He whispers and places me on his lap leading me to our bedroom.

"Charlie" I moan softly as his hands run all over my body.

"Hmm?"

"Aren't we going to eat dinner?"

"I don’t know about you but I'm going to eat now." I started laughing as soon as he threw me on the bed.

...

"My gosh, I was starving.” I told him as soon as I warmed up the pasta I had made for our dinner.

I was wearing only panties and the Ferrari t-shirt that Charles was wearing when he arrived, and he was wearing black sweatpants and socks while eating.

"Me too." He says and I laugh since his face was dirty with sauce. "What?"

"Come here." He walked over to the other side of the countertop where I was standing and I ran my thumb across the corner of his mouth wiping it clean. "I missed you so much."

"I missed you too." He gave me a kiss and smiled. "What do you say we take a romantic trip over the vacations?"

"I think that's a great idea." I gave him a kiss and we continued eating our dinner.

We spent the rest of the night on the couch watching movies covered in our blanket and after a while I had an idea, I told him I was going to get a charger for my cell phone but I actually went to put on the lingerie set I had bought for him.

"So?" He turns around and his eyes sparkled and a smile appeared on his face. "Do you think it looks better in person?"

"Absolutely." He says already standing up and I was still standing at the top of the stairs. "But I think I need to take a closer look before I can give my final answer."

He ran up, taking me in his lap, and once again we ended up in the bedroom.

I’m accepting requests for any of the people I write for witch is in my masterlist and also let me know if you want to be on the tag list.

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elliespassagerprincess · 6 months

Note

write something abt gamer!Abby pls!!

Headcannons: gamer!abby anderson x reader

live footage of Abby, after dying in Valorant:

☆ Gamer Abby who worked two jobs at one point to be able to afford all the new games and set up.

☆ Gamer Abby who spent over 3000 dollars just to upgrade her pc.

☆ Gamer Abby who had everything in room because she wants to feel close to her games.

☆ Gamer Abby who felt embarrassed when you came over for the first time.

☆ Gamer Abby who apologizes for all the posters and stacks of games that littered her room.

“Why are you saying sorry?” you asked her, confused as you sat on her bed.

“This isn’t very sexy” she comments looking down at the floor.

“It is” you shrugged "everything you do is sexy Abs"

☆ Gamer Abby who memorizes all the lore to different games, and she tells you all about it, even though it sounds like gibberish to you.

“Wait what?”

“baby focus” Abby said with an annoyed tone.

“So Ellie is Joel’s daughter?”

“Oh my god don’t you listen?” Abby says dramatically.

“She isn’t his biological daughter babe” “oh.. so who’s Sarah then?”

All Abby could do was sigh.

☆ Gamer Abby who spends hours playing, but pauses her game when you send her a text.

☆ Gamer Abby who face times you while she’s playing, because she just wants to be with you.

☆ Gamer Abby who feels self-conscious when you are in her room when she plays.

☆ Gamer Abby who gets teased by her friends when they are all on a call.

“why are you so quiet Anderson?” she heard Mel ask through the headphones.

“Her girl is there, she doesn’t wanna scare her away” Nora says witch a chuckle.

☆ Gamer Abby who always feels like she talks too much about games, but falls in love with you all over again when you say: “its ok Abby, tell me about it”

☆ Gamer Abby who moves her gaming set up and posters into another room when you move in.

You walked into the room, the room that was once so colorful with games, was now empty. Naked.

“What the fuck Anderson?”

“I moved it all”

“yeah no shit… why would you do that?”

“this is our space now and I thought you know- we could… I don’t know decorate it together?” ☆ Gamer Abby who is wayyyyyy to good with her fingers, and she gets all shy when you mention something about it.

“What are you looking at?” Abby asked without taking her eyes off the screen you hummed before you simply answered “you”

You watched as Abby shook her head with a chuckle.

“I now see why you’re so good with your hands, these games are definitely teaching you something” you said with a wink and Abby almost pissed herself.

☆ Gamer Abby who uses cheesy game related pickup lines

“You must be as good as Yoshi with that tongue of yours” “Did you just cast aeroga on me? Because you swept me off my feet”

“You don't have to turn on a game to play with me”

“Nice pants! Mind if I loot them?” You never got the references but it always made you blush.

☆ Gamer Abby who almost cried when you gave her plushies from the games she was obsessed with at the time.

☆ Gamer Abby who tries teaching you how to play.

“C’mon baby it’s not that hard”

“Abby I keep dying”

“you’re dying because you aren’t focusing”

“Abby I don’t want to play anymore”

“please baby, for me?”

☆ Gamer Abby who almost combusts when you understood one of her references.

“What did you just say?”

“you said just look for the light that’s a the last of us reference, isn’t it?”

“Marry me” ☆ Gamer Abby who finds out you’ve been practicing her favorite games, and you learned the lore to surprise her.

☆ Gamer Abby who wakes you up at 3am because she was yelling at Nora for making her lose.

☆ Gamer Abby who begs you to play with her because she thinks it’s hot.

☆ Gamer Abby who was scared of being herself before she met you.

☆ Gamer Abby who wants to dress up as Mario and princess peach for Halloween.

☆ Gamer Abby who knew that you were the perfect girl when you let her decorate your shared room with a few posters.

☆ Gamer Abby who is really happy, being with you.

☆ Gamer Abby who could see the two of you getting old together. And she hoped when you were 73 one day, that you’d still be playing together

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chronophobique · 9 months

Text

When Professor Granger receives a howler at breakfast, even owls stop flying.

It’s Ron. He’s breaking up with her.

“—as long as Malfoy is all you talk about, it’s ov—”

Hopeless, the witch sets the envelope on fire, but it’s too late. The Potions Master is already smiling.

“It wasn’t you,” she says as soon as she enters his classroom before the morning’s classes begin, not having considered that a few students would have already found their seats at their tables.

“The… Malfoy that Ron mentioned,” she repeats more quietly though no less harshly once she has crossed the gloomy room as casually as possible, her chin raised high, to his desk. “It wasn’t you.”

Focused on the preparation of some potion, his left hand busy stirring the hot liquid, her former classmate turned colleague doesn’t look up from his cauldron as he retorts, “Is that so? What’s with the urgency, then? You didn’t even took the time to clean up that cruddy pumpkin juice stain on your white blouse. You know, the one you caused in your panic.”

Caught off-guard by his comment, the witch tightens her robes over her chest, painfully conscious of the heat rising to her cheeks.

“Yes, well, you’re one to talk about cleanliness; your classroom reeks of your cologne. I know you’re trying to cover the fact that you never leave this hole to sleep or shower, but still. I’m sure your students would appreciate you airing it out a bit.”

That makes him pause and meet her gaze for two seconds that seem to last an eternity.

“What?” she grits through her teeth.

“Nothing. I just think it’s funny that you mention it, considering I’m not wearing any perfume today.”

She scoffs. “Yes, of course. And I’m totally imagining that green apple and eucalyptus scent that’s currently assaulting my nostrils. Sure.”

“Professor?” A student asks at the same time Hermione realises that every stool has now found its student. “Is the class cancelled?”

Shit.

“Oh, no. Actually, it’s already started,” Malfoy replies as he redirects his attention to her with a devilish grin on his lips. “Professor Granger, why don’t you share with the rest of the class what you just smelled in your Amortentia?”

#dramione #draco x hermione #dramione drabble #dhr fandom #draco malfoy #hermione granger #harry potter #chronophobiquedrabbles #hermione x draco #dramione fanfic

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shadysadie · 11 months

Text

Hot take: the Wittebanes were not Puritans

So since Hollow Mind came out there have been a lot of jokes about how the Belos is a crusty old Puritan. And while he is certainly crusty and old, I don’t think he was a Puritan.

I understand why everyone jumps there, when we think of Witch Hunts in Colonial America the very first thing that comes to mind is the Salem Witchcraft Trials. However, the Salem Witchcraft Trials began in 1692, that is 80 years after Masha says the Wittebros showed up in Gravesfield, and 30 years after the events of Elsewhere and Elsewhen.

If Masha’s information is correct, (which it might not be but we’ll get to that) then Caleb and Philip arrived in Gravesfield in 1613, which is closer in time to the settlement of Jamestown (1607) than the Salem Witchcraft Trials.

The Pilgrims didn’t even land at pride rock until 1620, seven years after the Wittebros arrived in Gravesfield. The Mayflower Pilgrims were really the group responsible for creating the idea of religious charters. They specifically wanted to leave England to create their own religious society. Many other groups followed, (notably the Massachusetts Bay Colony, which later became the home of the aforementioned Salem Witchcraft Trials) but the Mayflower Pilgrims were the first group of religious extremists who came to America looking for their Zion.

Prior to that, the motivation to settle the “New World” was mainly financial. Ships were chartered through the Virginia Company. Which as we all remember from our favorite wildly inaccurate and problematic 90s Disney movie, the Virginia Company was in it for the money. The New World had resources and Britian wanted them, damnit, Glory, God, and Gold and the Virginia Company.

That meant, if Caleb and Philip really did arrive in Gravesfield in 1613, their family likely made the trip for financial gain, not religion. If that’s the case they were less likely a member of an obscure group of religious extremists, and more likely to be either Protestant like King James and Queen Elizabeth. (They could have also been Roman Catholic, evidence for that comes later).

“But”, you say, “weren’t Puritans the ones persecuting witches at the time?”

Yes and no.

In the Americas, Witch Hunts will forever be linked to Puritans, but in Witch Hunting long outdates the Puritans. King James himself, was a witch hunting fanatic, he personally oversaw hundreds of witchtrials. He wrote books about finding witches, and it was specifically the King James endorse translation of the Bible that features the infamous “thou shalt not suffer a witch to live” (in many prior translations the word witch is something more along the line of “sinner” or “evil doer”). By many estimates, upwards of 1500 people were executed for witchcraft as a result of his reign. If we are going with Masha’s 1613 timeline, the brothers would have left England smack dab in the middle of his reign, right after the King James Bible was published.

(^this GIF has nothing to do with the Owl House, I just love sassy Gay King James in his bird mask, look at this cocky ass bastard, you know him and Belos would have been genocide buddies)

However, I can’t pretend to be focused on some semblance of historical accuracy and take Masha’s information at face value, even in the context of the show it wouldn’t add up because according to the sign we see in Yesterday’s Lie, Gravesfield was established in 1635.

(Granted there is a difference between a settlement and a town, it is possible that 1635 was when Gravesfield was officially acknowledged as a town and the boys just lived there pre-establishment).

However, in the name of historical accuracy, I have to assume Masha got the date wrong, because the English didn’t even settle in Conneticut until the 1630s. The Conneticut Witch Trials began in the 1640s. By this timeline and demographic, the likelihood of Caleb and Philip being Puritans goes up by a lot.

However, if we look at Philip’s clothes an his goals, there are still signs that don’t point to Puritanism. First look at the clothes Caleb and Philip wear as children:

Philip’s pants are red and Calebs are green. While it is a myth that Puritans could only wear black, the colors that they were allowed to incorporate into their wardrobe were typically still neutrals (dark yellows and beiges). Green would be pushing it, and red would be unbelievably bold.

Additionally, the ruffles on Philip’s shirt in the journal and Jacob’s book, would have been seen as incredibly vain.

The blue/black coat that Caleb wore in the puppet show, and Philip later wears in Elsewhere and Elsewhen and King’s Tide has gold buttons and gold embroidery. Gold and Silver accessories of any kind would have been considered incredibly sinful and conceited.

Which would also make it really weird for a Puritan to choose gold to represent himself. Infact his whole emperor authentic is much more reminiscent of the Catholic Pope. His own role as the messenger of the Titan’s will is also very papal in nature.

Finally there is the term he uses, “Witch Hunter General” is an illusion to “Witch Finder General” which was a rank made up and used by Protestant Matthew Hopkins and not really used by any Puritans. Such a title would also probably have seemed pretty vain.

Now you might say, “It’s a fictional story, why does any of this matter?”

The answer is: It does not, but I am high and have ADHD and this was the rabbit hole I fell down.

#the owl house #owl house #toh #wittebros #wittebane brothers #philip wittebane #caleb wittebane #witch trials #witch hunts #history #belos #emperor belos

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gay-wh0re-slut · 6 months

Note

Heyy, I just wanted to know if you could write a story with rhea x Fem! reader where they decide to bake cookies together and while they are waiting for them to bake reader decides to tease rhea and the results of that are reader and rhea banging on their kitchen table😛 smut pls 🙏

stop this is so cute. i’m gonna do it for halloween if that’s alright hehe those cute lil ghost and pumpkin cookies you know the ones eeek i’m so excited thank you for the request!!!!!!

Scream

rhea x fem!reader

content: soft rhea at first but then *surprise* sexy hot top rhea, fingering, praise, slight degradation, slight knife play, slight mask kink

Rhea finally had a day off so she wanted to spend it with you, of course. She’s been requesting since basically August to have a halloween movie marathon and you couldn’t be happier. Though you got scared easily, you knew the buff goth woman would be able to save you if Jason walked in the front door.

“I thought we could start with Scream and watch as many as we can and then move onto something else, I mean we have to start with the classic,” she claimed.

“I’m down for whatever, but the deal was that we had to make the pillsbury halloween cookies,” you giggled, “the ghosts and the pumpkins.”

“Yes, yes of course,” as she opened the freezer and pulled out both boxes, “should we make popcorn too?”

“Nah,” you say as you’re already setting the oven to the right temperature.

“You just… have that memorized?” she looked at the back of the boxes, then to the numbers on the oven, then to you.

“They’re my favorite cookies, of course I do,” you scoffed jokingly.

“Shoulda known,” she opened the boxes, “get two cookie sheets out then please.”

You do as told and set them on the counter. You grab a damp paper towel to wipe off the pans of any debris. “I’ll do these if you go find the movie?”

“You got it, baby,” she sets the boxes on the counter and gives you a soft kiss before she walks to the living room.

You neatly place the frozen cookies 2 inches away from each other as you continue to carefully pull the proportioned dough apart. She’s taking a while, you thought. You finish up placing the cookies just as the oven beeped, telling you it was at the correct temperature. So you open the door snd slide them onto the rack using your ‘Witch Please’ oven mitt. You set the timer then go find your girlfriend.

“Baby?” you start to walk to the living room. You were immediately blocked, “Oh my god.”

Standing in front of you was the tall wrestler but she was wearing an all black body suit that showed off her muscles perfectly and the famous Scream mask. She leaned on the doorway with her arm above you as her other hand held a very real looking fake knife.

The flood gates in your pants were immediately opened, “W-when did you get that?”

“Last week,” she said calmly, “you like?”

You didn’t think you had a thing for masks, but here you were, “mhmm,” you bit your lip to prevent any ungodly noises to come out.

The knife was dragged down your neck to your chest before dropping to the woman’s side. You didn’t think you had a thing for knives either but here you were. Maybe it was the two together? Maybe it was her doing it? All you knew was that you needed her… immediately.

“Yeah?” she walked you backwards by holding the knife gently to your neck, “who knew?”

“Y-yeah,” you gulped. Your legs hit the kitchen table so you couldn’t go any farther but she kept pushing. So you leaned backwards as far as you could.

“Crazy what a lil danger can do, huh?” she whispered centimeters away from your ear.

You let out a small moan.

“Why don’t we,” she drug the knife down to your chest once more, “have some fun while we wait for dessert, hm?”

You nodded your head. You couldn’t think of any words whatsoever, you were surprised to understand what she was even saying looking like that.

“Then lay down,” she growled as she dug the knife into your chest. Though it was plastic, it still hurt a little bit but you didn’t mind at all.

So you laid down, on the kitchen table, your legs hanging off, under your knife wielding masked hot buff goth wrestler girlfriend, I won, you thought.

“Good girl,” her accent said.

That could’ve made you cum right then, to be honest. The whole vibe of her was different, it was crazy and it was making you crazy.

She shifted herself between your legs so you wrapped them around her locking your ankles as you sat up on your elbows eyeing her toned body up and down.

“Like what you see, baby?” she cooed as she drug the knife down your torso.

“Very much so,” you bit your lip.

“Mmm,” the knife was now caressing your thigh and slowly moving to your inner thigh, “how long do we have?”

Assuming she was talking about the cookie timer, “a-about 10 minutes?” you struggled to see the timer.

“Plenty of time then,” and with that she dropped the knife and stripped your pajama shorts and underwear in one go, leaving your bottom half bare on the kitchen table in front of her, “And look, you’re already ready for me.”

“What did you expect?” you chuckled, “but please take off the mask now, I want to kiss you.”

She let out a long exaggerated sigh, “if you insist,” and slipped it off.

Almost as soon as she did, you sat up, grabbed the back of her head and pulled her in for a kiss. So she bent down on top of you bracing herself with one hand as the other found its way to your soaking folds easily caressing.

You moan into her at the sensation when she begins to form slow circles on your clit. As more moans and whines come from you, she quickens her pace. She kisses down your neck, “didn’t know you’d be such a slut for the mask.”

“Me either,” you choke out.

“And the knife?” she bit at your neck, rolling your skin in her teeth.

“Fuck…love that too,” the pressure in your hips quickly began to rise.

“I guess I should use that more often then,” her free hand clasped around your neck as she stood back up, then easily slipped her fingers inside of you.

Your breath hitched as your eyes rolled back and your back arched, a quiet “god,” came from you. You gripped the edge of the table, white knuckling it as the knot in your stomach grew even more.

She smiled down at you, slowly pumping into you, “if that’s what you want to call me,” she joked. She quickened her pace as her grip on your neck tightened, “you look so pretty my baby,” she admitted.

One of your hands gripped on her toned forearm in front of you, groaning at her praise. Your hips worked against her perfectly, hitting everything just right, “fffffuck…right there,” you whine.

“C’mon baby,” she was pounding into you, the kitchen table was squeaking as you rocked your hips. She let go of your throat so she could squat down to lap at your clit while her hand worked its magic.

“Holy fuck,” your hand tangled in her hair. It didn’t take much longer for the pressure to finally release. “GOD,” your back arched hard as your eyes rolled to the back of your head once more, spilling out all over her hand. Moaning loudly, she let you ride it out as her free hand kept you from closing your legs.

Your legs shook a bit as she finally took her hand away, cleaning you up with her tongue. You finally relaxed, breathing heavily when the timer started beeping.

She stood up and smiled at you as she sucked her fingers cleaned. She left you wide open as she turned the timer off and took the cookies out. “Perfect timing,” she threw the mitt down on the counter.

You sat up on your elbows, “well… we have to let them cool,” you cocked an eyebrow at her playing with the knife at your mouth.

“God you’re such a whore, I love it,” as she hungrily rushed back to you.

#rhea ripley #wwe #rhea ripley x reader #scream #halloween #sexy halloween time hehehe

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invisibleanonymousmonsters · 5 months

Text

chapter xxiii – gust & flame

Eris Vanserra x Reader

Eris Vanserra has been a prisoner in his own home since the day he was born. He has done what he had to in order to survive and protect the few he loves. And he is playing the long game. Waiting, waiting, and waiting for the right time to make his move, to usurp his wicked father and become High Lord of Autumn Court. But things become even more complicated when a human girl drops into his life. Perhaps Eris can wait no longer to take his throne.

Word Count: 4,500+

masterlist

“You are being awfully quiet, my dear.”

Y/N blinked, getting mentally awoken by Leonora’s comment. “Sorry, I just…I don’t think the hand-made gown tailored specifically for me was necessary.”

Leonora looked confused. “And why is that?”

Y/N’s gaze couldn’t lift from the floor as she answered, “I do not think it is wise for me to attend the celebration.”

All of the servants and seamstresses froze from the statement and subtly looked at their Lady of Autumn for indication of how they should react.

But Leonora, calm and collected per usual, just gave Y/N a gentle smile. She nodded to the seamstress that was kneeling at Y/N’s foot to continue her work.

Then she looked up at Y/N without judgment or worry, but with an encouraging smirk and soft eyes. “Why would it not be wise for the mate of our new High Lord to attend his coronation, Y/N?”

The witch finally looked up from the ground to meet her gaze. “Will it not give the people of his Court the wrong idea? I am not the next Lady of Autumn, nor have I accepted his bond. I do not wish to put Eris in an uncomfortable position.”

Leonora gave a sad nod. “I see…” she sighed.

She turned around and gave everyone in the room a soft request to leave the two of them.

Y/N’s heart started beating faster as she watched them all quietly exit.

Was Leonora about to scold her? Yell at her for refusing to accept her son as his mate?

No, that couldn’t be it.

Leonora had been nothing but kind to Y/N since they met. Never once did she pressure her on behalf of Eris. She hardly ever brought up their relationship. Most of the time, Y/N felt like Leonora was just happy to have a new female friend in the Forest House, especially after so long of being a prisoner here.

Leonora offered Y/N her hand to help her off the platform she was standing on for the seamstresses. Then she held both of her hands gently as she told her, “You forget, Y/N, that you are more to Autumn Court than simply the mate of its new High Lord.”

Y/N’s brow furrowed.

Leonora smiled. “You are their savior. Yes, it was Eris who slayed Beron in the end. But he would not have had the courage or strength to do so without you. Most in this Court despised and feared Beron Vanserra. You have given this Court a chance for change.”

Y/N’s face grew hot from the praise.

Leonora gave her a sympathetic look before adding, “But also I cannot say that as Eris’ mother, I do not also have selfish motives, as well. You make him stronger. I worry how he will be if he if he goes through such a coronation alone.”

“But you and Lucien will be there,” Y/N tried to argue.

Leonora tilted her head and gave her a look. “It is not the same, and I think you know that, my dear.”

Then she looked down at the beginnings of the dress on Y/N’s body that the seamstresses had begun.

“As for the dress, Eris wishes to spoil you with finery and I can’t argue with his intentions,” Leonora teased with a smirk.

But her expression sobered. “However, I know neither he nor anyone else will fault you for avoiding such a celebration. So much has been thrust upon you, and in so little time. You must do what is best for you.”

Y/N frowned and looked down at herself. “I will let them finish the dress – if only to please everyone. I would feel bad for throwing away all their hard work they’ve already done.”

Leonora nodded. “I think that is a wonderful idea.”

–🍁–🍁–🍁–

In the following weeks, the Forest House was bustling with activity.

Apparently, the coronation included inviting every High Lord and Lady of of Prythian.

Which meant the servants and cooks were frantic with preparations. Lucien had explained to her that the staff saw this as an opportunity to show why Autumn Court should be considered the best of Prythian. With a new High Lord came a new chance to prove that Autumn Court could change for the better and they were not to be overlooked.

Therefore, Y/N tried to stay out of everyone’s way. She either hid in the library, continuing her personal research or she was in her workshop, keeping herself busy with spells and potions.

However, on the day of the coronation, she stayed hidden in her bedchambers, scared that leaving would only bring attention to the fact that she would not be attending the festivities.

Maids and seamstresses had knocked on her door early in the morning. But Y/N simply ignored them, not wanting to see the looks of disappointment when she told them she would not be going to the coronation.

Y/N tried to distract herself by the fire, sitting on a chaise lounge with a romance novel in hand when more aggressive knocking came at the door.

She planned on ignoring it again, but then she recognized the group of voices on the other side.

“Y/N, if you do not open the door, we will break it down!” Nesta threatened loudly.

She jumped up and hurried to the door to whip it open.

On the other side, were her three Valkyrie sisters: Nesta, Gwyn, and Emerie.

Not only that, but they clearly dressed and done up for the coronation.

Nesta wore a simple black, velvet dress. But it was not simple in the way that it fit her body like a glove and edged toward risqué. Y/N had always appreciated how Night Court attire never strayed from being seductive and showing skin. Gwyn wore a more elegant black dress, which made Y/N wonder if Nesta was using her mate’s money to buy her friends luxurious gowns. Emerie wore leathers, that could have been a warrior’s uniform, over pants. Though less feminine, they were still formal and lavish in their own way.

When the Illyrian saw Y/N eyeing her outfit, she shrugged. “I was never really one for gowns…”

“You all look beautiful,” Y/N muttered. “B-But w-what are you doing here?” Y/N gasped in shock.

“We’re here for you, obviously!” Gwyn urged and pulled Y/N into a warm hug.

“Eris invited us,” Emerie confirmed with a smile, also walking into her rooms.

“Why aren’t you dressed?” Nesta asked, looking Y/N up and down as she closed the door behind them.

Y/N frowned. “I…I am not going.” Her eyes stayed down, scared to see their reactions to such a confession.

But, without hesitation, Gwyn announced, “Then we will stay in here and drink ourselves silly!”

Y/N’s jaw dropped at how unfazed her friends were. “B-But you will miss the festivities. And you all look so lovely.”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “This will not be our last opportunity to dress up. We would much rather hang out with you than all the stuffy High Lords and their nobles.”

Then Emerie nudged Nesta. “But we must still tell her our plan.”

“Plan?” Y/N questioned, eyes scanning all of them.

“Helion Spell-Cleaver will be in attendance!” Gwyn squealed.

Y/N’s brow furrowed, immediately thinking of Leonora and Lucien. She wondered if the Lady of Autumn would ever reveal to her past lover and her youngest son of the secret relation. Or if Leonora would ever follow her heart and return to Helion.

“Yes, all of the High Lord’s have been invited…” Y/N muttered, not understanding their clear excitement.

“Helion is the sole owner of the last of the pegasuses,” Emerie explained.

Nesta rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “And he makes sure to remind everyone of it, using them as his transport to any event he possibly can.”

Y/N’s amusement dropped for concern. “Please, please, please tell me you do not plan on stealing Helion’s pegasuses.”

“Don’t be silly,” Gwyn brushed off. “However, we do plan on sneaking into their enclosure to give them some pets.”

“And perhaps seducing Helion into giving us one or two…” Nesta added while looking at her nails. Y/N gaped at her. “What? He’s already propositioned me to join an orgy once when I visited Day Court.”

“Yes, before you accepted Cassian as your mate!” Emerie pointed out.

Nesta quirked a brow. “Who said Cassian would not be participating?”

“Those smutty books of yours have given you too many ideas,” Y/N laughed.

“More like inspiration,” Nesta corrected. “And inspiration that my mate is very enthusiastic about trying.” Then she pointed to the book Y/N had been reading when they arrived and quirked a brow. "Do not pretend you are above them."

“OK. Enough about your bedroom habits!” Gwyn interrupted. Then she turned her attention to Y/N. “Are you in or are you out?”

The witch smiled. “Of course I’m in.”

Minutes later, they were sneaking around the Forest House, Y/N led them toward where she assumed any guests horses would be quartered for the night.

But before they could reach it, a gust of wind wrapped around the females.

“He…needs…you,” The wind whispered to Y/N. “Go…to…him. He cannot…do this…without you.”

Y/N froze in the hallway.

“What? What is it?” Emerie asked.

“I-I’m sorry,” Y/N whispered. “Eris needs me. I will catch up to you later.”

“Oh, for Cauldron’s sake!” Gwyn cried. “As if we would make you go alone.”

“She’s right,” Nesta added. “Someone needs to do your hair and makeup.”

–🍁–🍁–🍁–

Eris swore his back had a metal pole along his spine with out tense and stiff his posture was. He knew his expressions were cold and unwelcoming. But he was in a room with too many people he had yet to decipher friend or foe. The nobles of Autumn Court smiled at him, but most only wanted good favor with the new High Lord. And for those that weren’t smiling, there were plenty that looked at him with fear or uneasiness, trying to gauge if he was just as bad as Beron.

His mother kept giving him tense, but encouraging smiles every time he spotted her in the crowded hall.

When to use his mask and when to reveal his true self, Eris did not know.

It was easier when Y/N was by his side. She eased him, reminded him of who he truly was. The mask never felt needed when her scent surrounded him.

But his mate was not here, nor was she coming.

And Eris couldn’t blame her. These events of politics and groveling were conniving at their best and boring at their worst. If he could skip it too, he would have. But that was no way to officially take over the throne of a broken court that needed mending.

Eris once again caught sight of a group of courtier daughters. They whispered and giggled at him, hardly even bothering to subdue their staring. And it hadn’t gone unnoticed how they seemed to edge closer and closer as the night went on.

Yes, Eris was handsome and powerful. Female attention was not something he was unaccustomed to. But he knew what those females were truly after were the wealth and power being married to a High Lord would bring. It didn’t matter that everyone knew of his mortal witch mate. They wanted him for themselves regardless.

His attire did nothing to help him blend in to the crowd. New, custom armor glinted against the thousands of candles and faelight surrounding them. And the blood red cloak stood out – even in Autumn Court.

Eris threw back the rest of his faerie wine, hoping he could get drunk enough to keep his wits about him, while also making the evening go by faster.

“Another?” A male voice offered from over his shoulder.

Eris turned to see Rhysand handing him another full glass, Feyre glued to his side with a knowing smirk.

“I promise I did not poison it,” Rhysand added.

“At this point, you would be doing me a favor,” Eris grumbled, taking a sip immediately.

Rhysand smirked. “Already over being High Lord, Eris?”

“I became High Lord to make my Court a better place, not to rub shoulders with nobles and courtiers who wish to use me to gain favor…”

“And I’m sure being away from Y/N is only making your mood more sour,” Feyre muttered more teasingly.

“She may do what pleases her. I’m sure her Valkyries have found her by now and are keeping her company.”

“Are you quite sure about that…” Feyre asked as she looked behind Eris.

The High Lord of Autumn Court quickly turned to follow her gaze.

At the entrance of the great hall stood Y/N.

Eris felt the invisible string attached to his heart go taut. A feeling Y/N had not experienced, and probably never would.

Despite her entrance not being formally announced, many had gone quiet and began to stare.

Someone had pulled Y/N’s hair up and done her makeup. Though Eris found her beautiful regardless, the level of glamour around her made her magnetic.

Meanwhile, Y/N held her head high as she slowly, yet confidently, walked further into the room. She was doing a good job of ignoring the scrutiny, but Eris could tell that she was more than aware of the staring.

Her dress fit her perfectly. And while most attendees wore green and the rustic browns of the court, Y/N had not strayed away from vibrant red, almost looking as if she were glowing like fire itself. Eris realized it matched with his own cloak. There were strips of black in her gown that felt like a call out to her short time in Night Court, where she had already gained respect and acceptance.

Eris wanted to go to her immediately. But he had to hold himself back. There was a reason she was late and walked in alone, instead of on his arm. It was clear that she worried about making his court believe she had accepted the mating bond.

But if Eris had his way, he’d use his magic to shove everyone out of the path from Y/N to him. He’d stop any conversation he was having – no matter how rude or undiplomatic it was – to give her his full attention and affection.

“Will you not go to her?” Feyre asked, concern obvious in her tone.

Y/N’s friends of the Night Court were unaware of the the change in her relationship with the High Lord of Autumn. They did not realize how far the two had come, how much had changed. Everything was so much more complicated than how it had begun: a male desperately hiding his mate in a court that was not his.

–🍁–

Y/N felt the eyes on her. She wondered if all of them were judgment or if there was also just innocent curiosity.

She wished she’d forced the Valkyries to drink heavily with her before leaving her bedchambers, because being sober for this felt like a cruel torture.

The three of them convinced Y/N that she needed to walk in without them. That she needed to walk in confident and independent.

But Y/N underestimated how many stares she'd receive in return.

So, she decided to straight line to where refreshments were being served. Feyre had once warned her away from fae wine, for it is far too strong for mortals to consume in the same manner as fae.

But right now, Y/N didn’t care.

Of course she couldn’t make it there without overhearing a group of females. Whether they had noticed her arrival, she had yet to discern.

“Now that his dreadful father is dead, I wonder where the High Lord will find his…entertainment,” one female said somewhat quietly.

Another chimed in with, “I once heard he would only bed harlots at pleasure halls in other Courts, in fear that Beron would kill any female who could sire a child from him.”

“But now he has a mate. Surely that means any and all of our efforts will be wasted,” a third female added.

“Oh, please.” The first female scoffed. Y/N didn’t have to look at her to know that she was rolling her eyes. “She is not even a fae. Truly, how long do you believe we will have to stay away before her mortal life ends?”

This is a terrible mistake, Y/N thought. She should have never shown her face here. This was exactly what she had been wanting to avoid.

Obviously Eris was a desired male – High Lord or not. And who was she to get in the way of him finding a suitor that was of his Court, of his own kind?

But, suddenly, the females stopped talking abruptly.

Had they finally noticed Y/N’s presence? Did they even care enough to make sure she didn’t overhear such things?

“High Lord Eris,” the first one greeted overly sweet. “How lovely of you to join us.”

Y/N whipped around to find Eris’ eyes already locked to hers as he stood a few feet away from her.

He ignored the female High Fae entirely, not even glancing in her direction.

Y/N didn’t know how to address him in such a setting. She looked around before starting to lower her head into a bow.

You do not bow to anyone, Rhysand’s voice suddenly snuck into her head.

With her dress and fanciful jewelry, Y/N had removed her protective amulet that stopped any daemati from entering her mind. That meant the High Lord and Lady of Night Court were free to speak to her mind freely.

Ignore them, Rhysand added. He has been waiting for you all night.

Eris didn’t greet Y/N verbally. Because nothing would’ve felt right.

But his eyes said everything.

And slowly he offered her his hand.

Y/N’s chest heaved as she put her glass down before stepping forward and lightly placing her hand in his grip.

Without breaking eye contact, Eris lowered his mouth and kissed it.

Without hesitating, he pulled Y/N to him and tucked her hand under his arm so it gripped his bicep. Then he placed his other hand over it, securing her further to his side.

Without asking for direction, Y/N quietly followed him as he guided them to the center of the room.

There was suddenly a female gasp from behind them. Eris didn’t turn, but Y/N looked over her shoulder to see that the first female from the group was covered in red wine. So much so that it was dripping off of her fine gown.

And there was Nesta… holding an empty glass with a smug, but melodramatically innocent look. Gwyn and Emerie were trying to hide their amusement.

"My mistake," Nesta gasped deviously.

Y/N didn’t know when her friends had joined her, but clearly it was early enough that they had caught the dreadful things those females had been saying about her and her mate with their fae hearing.

Then there was a screech of fear and a soft growl.

She looked down to see that her new little pet fox, Ronan, was nipping and growling at the group of rude females. How he escaped from her bedchambers was beyond her. But clearly he didn’t like being away from her.

Y/N bit her lip to stop herself from laughing at the sight.

Then she whistled softly and Ronan’s head snapped in her direction. He didn’t need another command, so he floppily ran to her and Eris, trotting along beside them.

When she turned forward again, Y/N realized Eris was leading them to the throne.

And with the wave of his hand, Eris pushed his throne over a foot and a second one appeared magically beside it.

Y/N’s head whipped to him, wanting to ask him what in the Cauldron he was doing.

But then she realized he was making a statement. There were some who would question her and her relationship with their new High Lord. But Eris was announcing to everyone that she was to be treated and respected as their High Lady, whether she accepted his bond or not.

“Eris,” she whispered in a hiss.

Her anxiety was skyrocketing at the statement he was about to make.

But he ignored her subtle plea, and instead just said, “Head high, little witch.”

He guided her carefully up the steps that led to the throne and waited for her to sit before he took his own.

The room quieted and turned their attention to Eris.

Y/N controlled her expressions, but her heart was racing from confusion of what she was meant to do.

They will crown him now, Rhysand’s voice entered Y/N’s mind again. He wants you at his side, therefore you belong there. Act like you know it.

Y/N found both Rhysand and Feyre in the crowd, which was fairly easy since they were the only people wearing black in a sea of mostly Autumn Colors – except for the other High Lords that were in attendance.

The couple gave her encouraging grins. Then she found Cassian, Nesta, Gwyn, and Emerie standing next to them, doing the same.

Cassian gave her a proud and beaming smile.

Y/N listened as one of Eris’ advisors started speaking the ritual of crowning the newest High Lord.

It was shorter than she expected. Though she struggled with paying attention, too focused on maintaining her posture and composure while being put on the same display as Eris.

Then the advisor was standing behind Eris, slowly lowering a rustic golden crown atop his head. It was in the shape of fallen leaves, with subtle hints of autumn red and green in the detailing.

As soon as it settled on his head, Eris turned to Y/N with his hand outstretched to her.

Without hesitation, she took it.

Together they stood.

The room immediately lowered into a bow – except for the other High Lords, who only subtly bowed their head in respect.

Y/N found Leonora’s gaze amongst them and she had a proud smile on her lips, but it was not only directed at her son.

Eris helped Y/N sit once again.

People started moving closer toward the throne.

Y/N realized the courtiers and lords were swearing their allegiance now.

A male high fae stepped forward first, bowing his strawberry blonde head deeply.

“Lord Foley,” Eris greeted indifferently.

The male bowed his head again and then turned his gaze to Y/N, opening his mouth to formally introduce himself to her.

“You are Eoghan Foley?” Y/N asked him before he could speak.

The males eyes widened in surprise.

“You own the majority of farms in the south east territory, correct?”

The male looked even more surprised.

Eris smirked at his mate, deciding to let her speak while he watched.

“You are known for paying your farmers the most, even when Beron underpaid you in an attempt to raise competition amongst other lords.”

Eoghan bowed his head. “My workers deserve a fair wage, Lady Y/N. When treated with respect they are more inclined to stay and there is less loss.”

Y/N then turned to Eris, having a silent conversation with their eyes.

“And for that, you shall be rewarded,” Eris’ voice came out strong and confident. And the entire room could clearly hear it. His gaze moved about the room. “The days of exploitation are over. Those of Autumn Court deserve to be paid for their work. Such competition only turns us against each other.” His eyes moved back to the lord. “A bonus will be delivered to you before nightfall tomorrow, Lord Foley.”

The male looked taken aback at such a decision. He half-expected to find that Eris was no better than his tyrant father. But he was instantly proven wrong.

“T-Thank you High Lord Eris,” he said with another bow. Then he looked up at Y/N before turning his gaze to the floor. “And to you, Lady Y/N. Our people are already indebted to you for bringing Autumn Court back into the light.”

“I hear your wife is a talented sculptor, Lord Foley.” Y/N noted with kindness in her eyes. “I hope to see her work for myself someday.”

“Any time you wish, Lady Y/N.”

“Enough business and politics for tonight,” Eris announced once Lord Foley had moved back into the crowd.

Then he eyed the other High Lords who were in attendance. All of them had been studying him and his interactions carefully. “Otherwise, we shall be spilling Autumn’s secrets to our guests who have their own Courts to govern.”

His courtiers laughed lightly at his joke.

With the swipe of Eris’ hand, the lighting in the room darkened to a moodier setting. And the symphony took their signal to begin playing music.

The guests started coupling up to dance.

Once again, Eris stood and offered Y/N his hand.

She took it, but moved close to his side so she could whisper, “I do not know these formal dances.”

Eris squeezed her hand tightly. “Trust me,” he simply whispered back.

When they entered the center of the dance floor, Eris pulled them into the proper stance. “I will lead. Just relax and do not overthink it.”

And Y/N did just that.

Either the steps were not as complicated as she had presumed or Eris was good dance partner. But they swayed across the floor. And despite hundreds of eyes watching them, the room disappeared around them, and it was just them.

“Thank you for saving me,” Eris whispered in her ear as he pulled her even closer.

Y/N knew this closeness was more immoral and informal, but she needed it. And if it was improper, Eris didn’t seem to care one bit.

“I hardly did anything,” Y/N admitted softly.

“You did more than you could ever understand,” he countered quickly. “You continue to be my savior, Y/N.”

“I didn’t want you to be alone,” Y/N confessed softly. Her lips quirked as she added, “The worst loneliness is felt while surrounded by others.” Repeating her past statement from the night he had confessed how lonely he'd once been in this court.

Eris stopped abruptly, pulling their dance to a halt.

His eyes slowly went from her eyes to her lips.

Y/N knew he wanted to kiss her. She could feel it. And she would be lying to herself if she said she didn’t want him to, as well.

Eris was calculating how safe it was to show such affection to his mate so publicly. Another voice in his head was telling him he should to whatever he damn well pleased.

A deep voice cleared their throat behind her.

They turned to see Cassian standing with his hands clasped behind his back.

He gave a polite bow to them. “I was hoping to share a dance with my favorite witch.”

Y/N smiled at his playfulness. But she also saw the hidden message in his gaze. Her friend was trying to save her if she so wanted it.

She turned back to Eris, half expecting him to be giving the Illyrian a death glare. But the High Lord only nodded, and slowly removed Y/N from his grasp.

“She has much to share with her friends,” Eris offered him.

“Shall we?” Cassian asked her with his hand offered.

The Illyrian's dancing just further proved how skilled Eris was. But Y/N didn't mind Cassian's clumsy feet.

“I am the only witch you know,” she glared playfully at him.

“Yes, but if I were to ever meet any more, you would still be my favorite.” He spun her sloppily, ignoring the steps everyone else was following.

He lowered his voice as he said, “I only wanted to offer you an escape. It seems tensions are high between the two of you…”

“Thank you,” Y/N told him with a frown. “I fear I am lost.”

His brow furrowed as he turned them. “How so?”

Her eyes surprisingly welled with tears. “Cassian…I-I-I love him.”

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

I know it took me a long time to update. But I worked really hard on this. And I loved putting together everyone's outfits. 🥹

Please leave a lovely comment. You know I love a book report. @pancakefancake

#acotar #gust & flame #eris #eris acotar #eris vanserra #eris x reader #eris vanserra x reader #a court of thorns and roses #autumn court #high lord of autumn #lady of autumn #cassian #nesta archeron #gwyneth berdara #emerie of illyria

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deanbrainrotwritings · 3 months

Text

— HAND OF BLOOD

SUMMARY : “Hey can i request one where the reader is Dean Winchester wife and she just found that she is whatever supernatural creature and him just cuddling with her and help her using her new powers?? something fluff and cute” - anon

PAIRING : dean winchester x powered!reader (f.)

CHARACTERS : unnamed villain, sam winchester, castiel

WARNINGS/TAGS : fluff, angst, comfort, trauma

WORD COUNT : 1.0k

A/N : bullet for my valentine song title. trying some new ways of writing bc university sucks, anyway, you can imagine the reader to be whatever magical/super-powered being from the show, I didn’t specify x

“Stop holding back, you could… you know… do something for me and I will let you go, alive,” the dark voice of the monster before you made a shiver run up your spine. Your stomach churned nervously, but you gave in anyway.

“Do what?” You sobbed, tugging helplessly at the chains around tour wrist.

You felt a warm breath by your cheek and you inhaled sharply, your body instantly tightened with stress.

“A little bit of magic,” the words brushed against your ear and neck. And you didn’t think you could shiver any harder than you already were, but your body shook with a shudder and your muscles clenched tighter, somehow.

“I can’t do magic,” you whispered with defeat, trying not to cry when a hand squeezed around your throat. “I’m not a witch,” you struggled to breathe through the tight grip.

Whatever the thing was that held you captive, squeezed your throat so tight you could feel your frantic heart beat against its palm. Then, the grip loosened with a frustrated growl, an impatient sound, desperate.

“But you are something,” it insisted through clenched teeth, “something very powerful.”

“I’ve never even… I think you’ve got the wrong person,” you argued weakly. Your body slowly relaxed and you accepted whatever your fate was.

You didn’t bother letting your eyes fall shut, you didn’t bother trying to squint and making something out of your surroundings. The pitch black room revealed nothing to you. All you could smell was dank air and dirt, hear the echo of yours and your captor’s breath against concrete walls and floor. The occasionally clink of the metal that bound you to the floor, the rustle of leaves with the shuffle of feet.

“I don’t have the wrong person. I think you’ve been holding back,” the voice grinned and two hands pressed against either side of your temples. “Why don’t we go back to the biggest hits? To all those times you’ve felt powerless?”

“You know… this doesn’t change the way I see you,” Dean promised, kissing your forehead. He absentmindedly played with a strand of your hair and kissed your cheek when you sniffled.

“I can’t… what if I can’t control it?” You whispered, wiping away tears with your sleeve as they flowed from your eyes with no end in sight.

“Hey, you’re such a control freak, I doubt you’ll let your powers beat you,” Dean grinned in attempts to cheer you up, but you were barely able to muster up a smile. You generally found Dean hilarious, something he knew well enough to find a way to cheer you up easily. Even when you had no idea what he was saying, he always made you laugh. It was always that dorky, boyish grin of his that made you crack up.

Dean shimmied down on the bed so he could face you. He sighed and gave you a weak smile. You were embarrassed of your wet eyes and swollen lips, but you knew Dean wasn’t judging you, and that’s why letting yourself fall apart was always so easy to do when you were with him.

“We’ve gone through worse and we’ve come out pretty damn alright.” His hand landed gently on your flushed, hot cheek. You finally looked into his gentle eyes, through watery vision and sticky lashes he still looked beautiful. “I promise that I will help you in any way that I can, sweetheart. So will, Sam. And so will Cas. We’re a family, you’re not gunna do this alone. Okay?”

Dean waited for you to nod. You almost couldn’t breath with the way he looked at you. With his soft green eyes glowing with determination, and kindness, and empathy. It hurt so much that you just nodded, and buried your face in his chest so that all the emotions in his eyes wouldn’t get to you and make you break down again.

He held you close to him and chuckled softly. He pressed his lips to the top of your head and soothingly rubbed your back while you clung to the warm layers on his body.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Dean gasped out a laugh, hunching over with his hands on his knees. “You’re not dangerous at all, you just suck at this. So… don’t be nervous.”

You glared at Dean as he struggled to breathe and wheezed out another laugh. Sam sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with one arm crossed over his firm chest. Even Cas seemed irritated with Dean; he rolled his eyes and let his hands slap against his thighs in defeat, his powers slowly fading.

“This isn’t easy and you’re doing great,” Sam encouraged you and squeezed your shoulder reassuringly when he made his way across to you. “Cas, again,” he tipped his head towards you and returned next to Dean to elbow him in his ribs.

Dean squirmed and wiped tears of laughter from his eyes, his eyes shimmering with flirtatiousness when they opened back up to you and the glare you sent his way. He wiggled his brows and smacked his tongue above the roof of his mouth, and you couldn’t resist the tiny smile from growing on your face. Or the blush that began to heat up your face, the skipped beat of you once fearful heart, the clench of your stomach. Yup, Dean still had it.

“Try to… um, just don’t hit us… well, you can hit Dean,” Sam snickered, ignoring the glare Dean shot at him. You grinned when Dean glanced back at you and you picked yourself. He sneaked behind Sam to hide from you and the way you unfortunately sucked at using your abilities. Most of your anxiousness disappeared, and Cas smiled reassuringly when he powered up.

You didn’t think things could be any better, all things considered. New powers, new you. But most importantly, your relationship with Dean, Sam, and Cas seemed to get better in the past seven months, like this one bad thing that happened to you didn’t get between you… instead, it wove the four of you together, and squeezed tight like a knitted blanket. Despite the fear, the anxiety, the uncertainty of what you were now, you felt warm, safe, and secure. With the people you call your family.

You had Dean to thank for that. And everyone else’s for falling into your life so perfectly.

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#dean winchester x you #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester comfort #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean x reader #dean x female!reader

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myvampyrez · 1 month

Note

'Ello luv, it's been a while since I saw someone writing for DMC ugh, miss when dmc(5) was trending... What a good time!

I don't know if your requests are open or not, but catch up with me!! Our pretty girls and boys with a vampire!reader! Or or— A WITCH! BOTH

Like, you choose if it's a bunch of headcanons, blurbs, a full one shot with a character or not, I just really want to see it!

Well, obviously if you can do it honey, if you can't it's fine <3

dmc crew dating a vampire 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

devil may cry x reader

┊ ˚➶ notes ｡˚ 🎼

this was actually my first request on this blog!! i don’t know why i put it off for so long bc it’s literally so cool?? i ended up just doing a vampire instead of witch/vampire witch so i hope you guys enjoy considering my phone crashed trying to copy n paste this from my notes to tumblr 💋

┊ ˚➶ warnings ｡˚ 🎼

blood (but in the vampire way ykyk), fangs and mentions of sharp teeth, intended lowercase, kinda spoilers for dmc5 in v’s,

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ 𝓓ANTE — 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

❥ you are literally so hot in DANTE’s eyes, you could honestly do no wrong.

❥ i think you guys already know what i’m gonna say..

❥ if you feed on blood or need it for some sort of sustenance, dante will gladly volunteer. he thinks it’s the hottest thing ever.

❥ although, i’m not sure if vampires much like demon blood..

❥ eh, oh well. dante will still think it’s attractive, especially if you have fangs or some sort of sharper canines.

❥ only downside to being a vampire and dating dante is that you’ll occasionally hear a super bad transylvanian accent. like.. really bad.

❥ but!! if you’re also a demon hunter like him— and you have some cool freaky powers like draining blood or energy from empusas or really just any ability that’s useful, it’s heart eyes all around from him.

❥ you could be covered in blood or feasting on something and then you’ll spot dante in the corner wielding devil sword dante after defeating like seventy fuckin other demons and he’s just.. mesmerized.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ 𝓥ERGIL — 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

❥ VERGIL’s much more curious about your species. do you have any weaknesses? are the fictionalized versions of your kind portrayed accurately? what are you exactly?

❥ luckily he’s a lot more quiet about his curiosity compared to, maybe— nico. his staring is intimidating, though. when he sits with you or near you, he’ll usually just study you. maybe it looks like he’s judging but he’s really just analyzing your appearance. especially if you have any distinctive features.

❥ if you have that dark ruddy aesthetic, he’ll likely admire from afar even if red isn’t exactly his favorite color.

❥ if you really needed it, he’d let you feed off of him although it’s definitely not his first choice. he’s not really a fan of being bitten, especially if you need to bite his neck or something like that.

❥ probably finds some esoteric artistic poem or painting with an underlying meaning of having to do with vampires and thinks of you every time he looks at it.

❥ his gothic poetic side is showing

❥ ugh i just wanna kiss his scowl so bad but i also wanna punch him.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ 𝓝ERO — 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

❥ nero literally thinks it’s so cool.

❥ he might be a little wary once he first meets you? like are you gonna tackle him rn and sacrifice him with your own lil blood ritual?

❥ but once he finds out you’re docile or that you pick and choose on whom you feed on, he’s like, “oh okay that’s cool”

❥ probably like dante where the only version he knows of vampires are the hollywood adaptations of them. so like.. he’s confused if you can go into sunlight? or you can eat certain foods? or if you can go near churches??

❥ he, too, thinks you’re super hot. however!! very iffy about you drinking blood or feeding in front of him. not like it grosses him out but it’s kinda.. weird to watch for him?? idk.

❥ another thing is that he doesn’t want you biting him at all. he’s like vergil where he’ll be baffled if you even ask, except he’s super hesitant to offer himself unless you’re super injured and in dire need of it.

❥ just step on him to shut him up atp

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ 𝓥 — 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

❥ V’s goth ass won’t shut up about how divine your species is and how fascinating he finds you.

❥ curious on your feeding habits and what you essentially need to survive, tries to find any and every book that he can about vampires so he can learn about you even more.

❥ he’s like those people who romanticize the 1800s or the salem witch trials or greece or ethel cain or lana del rey while kicking their feet and posting about it. he will find a way to make the situation poetic, trust me.

❥ finds it amusing if you’re annoyed by griffon’s teasing and threaten to eat him first if you were to ever go rogue, you might even be able to get a close mouthed chuckle out of v.

❥ utterly fascinated by just your very being, even if it’s just mundane traits. especially loves to see your fangs, dunno why but they’re just aesthetically pleasing to him.

❥ considering he’s kinda like a deteriorating human that’s basically turning into a husk, i wouldn’t recommend feeding on him unless you plan to kill him—which who would wanna murder our emo bae right here? (capcom)

❥ the type of person to roll his eyes at false folklore and representation because he’s literally in love with an actual vampire?? how dare they portray you like this??

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ 𝓛ADY — 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

❥ LADY also finds you super hot!!

❥ also interested because she’s probably never seen a vampire outside of media— so it’s a nice change of pace rather than being face to face with demons all day.

❥ despite all this, after the initial introduction, i’m not sure she’d care too hard? like— sure, you’re considered a supernatural being and all that.

❥ and although she thinks it’s super dope, i feel like it wouldn’t matter as much to her. she’s seen and done a lot of things at such a young age, i feel as though she’s almost desensitized?

❥ she’s so badass she can’t even care. she’s literally respected by dante, whom is titled ‘the legendary devil hunter’. (dmc5 did her dirty with her lack of part in the storyline 💔)

❥ she’ll respect any of your needs, and ngl also thinks you biting into her neck is hot.

❥ kinda surprised that you’re able to go out into sunlight even if she’ll never tell you that 😭

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ 𝓣RISH — 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

❥ another one who doesn’t care that much. it’s not like TRISH is dismissive of your species and where you come from, but she’s literally a full on demon who’s probably seen everything.

❥ you guys r so hot though, like the ultimate power couple.

❥ oh, and if you’re a devil hunter, too? you guys r gonna kick sm ass together. she’ll invite you to roll around with her for a while rather than with dante, although if you’re associated with devil may cry then that’s fine too. she’ll put up with dante’s ass just to visit you more often.

❥ i don’t recommend feeding off of trish?

❥ idk how vampires take to drinking demon blood

❥ but shit, if you have that red aesthetic and are just a total femme fatale (or other gender equivalent to that), trish is in charge of your outfits now.

❥ don’t even fight it, you will end up in the outfit regardless.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ 𝓝ICO — 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

❥ oh boy

❥ if you’re lucky enough to survive the first meeting with NICO and you end up actually being in a relationship? you are def a trooper.

❥ when you’re first introduced, she bombards you with questions.

❥ where did you come from? do you have powers? are you like a demon and are there more of you? if so, can she harvest parts for a new bio-weapon? do vampires reproduce the same as humans? are you gonna suck her blood??

❥ she’s just a curious lady cut my girl some slack

❥ she thinks you’re so cool though!! wants you to tell her everything you know about vampires so she can log it. even if you’ve been in a long term relationship, she still can’t help but ask more questions.

❥ but!! as cool and hot as she thinks you are— like nero, she does not wanna see you feed and does not wanna be fed on!! (except.. maybe just one time to see how it feels.)

❥ ugh she just loves you sm please indulge her

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sanjoongie · 2 months

Text

𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝕋𝕨𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕪 𝕊𝕖𝕩: 𝕋𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕒𝕔𝕝𝕖𝕤

🥀Pairing: Jeong Yunho x Reader (f)

🥀Genre: Smut

🥀Rating: 18+, Minors Do not Interact

🥀Au: incubus au, Victorian au, witch au, historical au, demon au, supernatural au

🥀Trope: s2l

🥀Summary: an incubus thinks you're a tasty witch snack as a widow, and it's about to turn your day around

🥀Kinks: tentacles, triple penetration, breast and nipple play, fingering (f), anal (f), oral (m), penetrative sex with no barrier, colored cum, erotic electroshock, headspace, squirting

🥀Word Count: 1,715

🥀Betas: n/a

🥀Day Twenty Five: Free use/ Spit Play 🥀Mini Masterlist 🥀Day Twenty Seven: cuckolding

A crash in your dead husband’s study pulled you from a nap in your boudoir, not bothering with even a robe to cover your white chemise. No one had been in that room for years, and that got your heart pumping in your throat. Was there a burglar? A monster didn’t seem likely in the dead of day. Either way, you scampered in, curling your hands, preparing to weave a spell.

A handsome man, with his boots up, was sitting behind your dead husband’s desk. His arms were crossed behind his head, casual, as if he had every right to be in here. “Now, what do we have here?” He said in a melodic, low voice.

“Shouldn't I be asking you the same thing?!” You demanded.

“I knew something was drawing me to this house but I wasn’t sure who. You’re a sight for sore eyes, sweetheart,” The man proclaimed.

You put both of your hands on your hips. “Listen, there are no magical artifacts in this house. There’s no reason for you to be here. Leave.”

“The name's Yunho,” Yunho introduced himself, ignoring your command. He stood up from the desk and began to walk around.

“I don’t care who you are or what your name is. You should leave. Now.”

“Now why would I leave when I could provide you with a very important service that I believe you’ve been lacking for quite some time.” Yunho smirked.

You felt heat move up your face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Yunho circled you, like a predator after his prey. His words seemed to wind about you like a spell, curling something inside of your stomach that had lied dormant for many years. “I bet I could have you whimpering for me the minute I bend you over this desk, sweetheart.”

“How do you know?” You demanded.

“Your skin practically screams touch-starved,” Yunho whispered against your skin.

“I--I haven't been touched since my husband died,” You admitted barely above a whisper.

Yunho’s hands skimmed your curves over your white nightdress. “That's too bad. Your body is made for a lover.” He squeezed your breasts, your thighs, your ass. Anything he could get his hands on, he appreciated.

You whined in the back of your throat. “I…I can't!”

“What's stopping you, Sweetheart?” Yunho said in a deep voice.

“It's unbecoming of a lady witch,” You replied as Yunho’s hands slowly began to pull up your skirt.

“No one has to know,” Yunho tempted you, tongue hot on your neck, sucking and licking.

“They'll know!” You lamented. “They'll whisper behind their hands. They'll smell it on me.”

“Oh sweetheart,” Yunho chuckled, “the only people that will know that I fucked you good will be me and your pussy.”

“I… I want this so badly,” You whimpered.

“I can give you unlimited pleasure that you’ll never experience with a human. I just need your go ahead, lovely.” Yunho stood in front of you, flowing shirt and tight pants a temptation itself. You were thrown off by the human comment, however.

“What are you?” You demanded.

Yunho’s form wavered for a moment, like his body was emanating enough heat to mimic a heat wave. And then he gained certain features the bespoke of what exactly he was. He had horns that curled around the top of his skull. He had a tail that ended in a spade. His eyes had a ring of yellow around his iris. He screamed ‘incubus’ to you and you shivered.

“There is more.” Yunho’s eyes tightened in worry. “You can say no but I promise you, they will only give you pleasure.”

“More?” You said in awe that he had more hiding away that could give you pleasure. Your eyes immediately moved down towards his nether region.

Yunho couldn't help but laugh. “No, that one is obvious. Although you’re not exactly cold either.”

“Show me,” You said, some thrill-seeking nerve in you speaking out.

From behind his lower back came two long, black tethers. They moved of their own accord, one on each side of Yunho. “These are my tentacles. Succubus’s chose to receive wings as their extra feature, but us incubus's have these. They secrete their own viscous fluid, so you needn’t worry in that area. They provide me with some pleasure as well. If you must know.” Was Yunho… nervous about revealing his tentacles?

“Will you have me?” Yunho asked again. “Your body is drawing me in. Your magic is flirting with mine. I can’t stay here a moment longer if I can’t have you.”

If the allure of the demon himself hadn't been enough, that sentence sure was. Who could say no to an incubus that proclaimed that he would die without your touch?

“Oh-okay, Yunho. You have my permission. Take me as you will,” You stuttered.

Yunho smiled endearingly at you. “Okay, you asked for it.”

Yunho swiped everything off the desk and made you sit on it. He informed you that all you had to do was tap his arm, once ‘okay and twice ‘stop’. You might have wondered why you needed nonverbal communication until Yunho stuck one of his tentacles into your mouth. He moaned as your tongue naturally curled around it. He shallowly fucked your cheek and cursed.

“For someone so out of practice…” He gasped. He pulled out his tentacle, and you flicked the straps of your nightgown like you were both of the same mind. His two wet tentacles went straight for your nipples, swirling around the areola until your nipples pebbled, and then they wound around your breasts, squeezing them, the tips of the tentacles casually flicking your nipples.

You smiled wickedly. “How do you think I kept from pushing out brats for the old Warlock I was married to?”

You moaned as Yunho leaned in, cupping your cunt under the skirt of your chemise. “Oh, you’re wet and trembling, lovely.”

“This feels so gloriously good,” You admitted.

Yunho played with you with his fingers while his tentacles continued to play with your breasts. You pouted and panted at being stimulated so much. “I know… I need to… be spoiled… but! Don’t--oh god, right there!” You grabbed Yunho’s wrist and pressed his fingers in you further. “Fuck yes! Don’t forget--hnnnnnn--about yourself!”

Yunho was surprised for a moment before lifting an eyebrow at you. “Did you really enjoy my tentacle in your mouth that much?”

The heavy weight on your tongue had been one of your only pleasures in life. Yes, you did miss it. “Please put your nice tentacle in my mouth, Yunho?”

Yunho released one of your breasts to maneuver his tentacle into your mouth again. He was taken by surprise again when you wrapped both your hands around it and moaned. You added a sharp little zap with your magic and Yunho was the one moaning.

Your orgasm was approaching but Yunho didn’t want your first one to be with his fingers. He slowed his fingers inside of you and you whined.

“Gonna fuck you, sweetheart, don’t worry,” Yunho assured you.

Yunho yanked you by your thighs and brought you flush with the end of the desk. He easily squeezed into your wet cunt and you let out a choked cry. It had been so long, too long. The one tentacle that had been playing with your breast left your boobs slick with the liquid that kept the tentacles wet. It teased your puckered hole and you gasped around Yunho’s tentacle.

Yunho tilted his head cutely. “I told you that I’d give you more pleasure than a human ever could. My tentacles are perfect for your little virgin hole.”

You nodded your head and Yunho moved his tentacle like it was a tongue playing with your hole. He played with the sensitive nerves on the outside first until your muscles untensed. Meanwhile, your mouth and cunt were getting stuffed and you couldn't be happier. However, when Yunho pushed his tentacle in your puckered hole, you were driven to the ultimate pleasure, just like Yunho promised.

You squealed as you were fucked so throughly. Yunho looked wicked above you, his horns curving around his head and his tail curled around one of your ankles. His hands replaced the tentacles around your breasts. His nimble fingers played with your nipples, still slick with the tentacle's wetness. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head. You slipped into a place where only pleasure existed.

Yunho moved his mouth close to your ear to whisper, “When you come, it will be the most delicious feeding I’ll have ever had. Will you do that for me? Will you come hard for me? Let me feel pleasure in all of your holes with all my appendages?”

You weren’t sure if it was the fucking in your ass that you had never experienced but was nontheless a pleasurable expereince, or the way that Yunho’s curved dick stroked a place inside of you that you never even knew could be reached, but either way your climax was hard, just like Yunho wanted. You screamed around his tentacle and blacked out for a few minutes. Yunho squirted inside all of your holes, excreting a black, viscous liquid down your throat and in both of your lower holes. He came with a long, drawn-out moan, that honestly, if you had been able to focus on, just might have made you come a second time with how lovely it sounded.

Yunho removed all of his appendages from you quietly while you slowly but surely came back to earth. “Yu-yunho,” You gasped.

Yunho smiled brightly. “Good, right?”

You frowned when you saw a clear fluid on your thighs. “Did I?”

“You gave me the greatest honor. I made you squirt. It was glorious,” Yunho said with a boyish grin.

You pulled your straps up over your shoulders and summoned your robe with a flick of your wrist. It made it as far as the door before collapsing. Had Yunho fed from you so deeply that he had drained your magic reservoirs as well?

“You’re my new favorite snack, sweetheart, that’s for sure,” Yunho winked at you. And with a poof of sparkly smoke, he was gone. Well, he knew where you lived. You were sure he’d be back for more.

🥀Day Twenty Five: Free use/ Spit Play 🥀Mini Masterlist 🥀Day Twenty Seven: cuckolding

#joongfryefff24 #kvanity #kwritersworldnet #pirateeznet #cultofdionysusnet #mfu-net #ateez smut #jeong yunho smut #yunho smut #atz smut #jeong yunho x reader #topaz's work #ღatz

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strangerstuffandthingsimagines · 2 years

Text

The Gallows (Hangman x Fem!reader)

Summary: They call you Angel, sometimes you wonder if “of death” was too long. When tasked to join the best of the best, you are forced to confront your past.

Warning’s: descriptions of injuries (reader is a medic), mentions of sexual content, semi-steamy?,cursing, mentions of sibling death, ptsd (the reader and Hangman both have shared trauma), alcohol consumption

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Call sign: Angel”

It sounded like a nails of a cat clinging to a chalkboard, slowly, painstakingly trailing down the black slate, dragging each syllable out like a taunt. An-gel.

The office felt stuffy, like one of those old silver-screen detective films your grandma would make you watch whenever you visited for Christmas, though there was nothing comforting or warm about it.

Vice Admiral Beau "Cyclone" Simpson is across from you, flipping through your entire naval career in a package of papers. “Quite an impressive portfolio you have here.”

“Admiral Kazansky vouched quite heavily for you. I don’t know if that should delight or terrify me.” he sighs, scanning through the pages without so much as looking up at you. “You’ll be working under the command of Captain Pete “Maverick” Mitchell, I’m sure you’ve heard about him.”

Slapping the folder down, Cyclone rises from his seat with the the sound of leather creasing and wheels rolling against the linoleum. “Follow me. I’ll take you to the debriefing room, maybe you’ll be good at keeping Maverick...grounded.”

Orientation never sat well with you. You stopped bothering to focus your vision on the pilots and WSO’s before you; To take in their faces or remember their names. It became a bad habit that morphed into second nature, instinctual to the very structure of your DNA. It was easier that way.

There was an eeriness to the echo of Maverick’s voice as it reverberated throughout the aircraft hangar, his eyes flickering to you for a moment.

“This mission will be physically demanding on your bodies and minds. That is why we have brought in Lt. y/n “Angel” y/l/n. One of the best flight surgeons the navy has to offer.” It’s all so formal that it feels forced. Undeserved. Unwarranted.

The walk from the entrance of the hangar, to where Captain Mitchell stood was gruelling. You pictured yourself being ushered to the gallows, or maybe a pyre like a witch, either way, both of those situations seemed more appealing than this.

“Thank you.” you saluted back - It was muscle memory at this point, not respect. “It an honour to work with you Capt. Mitchell.”

“We’re down three of our best today to G-tolerance training. Don’t worry, you’ll get well acquainted soon enough.” he grins, looking your way for a moment. He could practically feel the tension radiating off your body in a cold heat.

Orientation went by in a haze, you hadn’t paid much attention to the formalities and empty social interactions, not when everything in the very fabric of your being told you “No, you aren’t ready. Run. Run. Run.”

“Phoenix.” a firm, but eager hand reaches out to you, breaking your daze like a slap to the face. Your palm meets her’s and you think maybe, just maybe, you can do this. Maybe you can try.

Before you are even aware you’ve spoken, you agree to meet at the Hard Deck for drinks. Then you remember you haven’t touched booze since you got so drunk they had to pump your stomach. Then you remember why you had gotten so drunk in the first place. Then you kind of want to scream, and you kind of want to cry.

But you don’t. You never do.

~~~~~~~~

A stale breeze ocelots throughout the room as you lay in the dark, alone in a loose tee and your underwear. Giving a grunt, you roll onto your back and run a finger across the creases of your sheets, that imprinted into the flesh of your cheek, pondering how you might muster the strength to get up and dress for the bar tonight.

You move in thoughtless motion, tugging on the loose blue jeans that are too hot for California, and a white tee you’d probably stain at some point throughout the night. You take your time on the ride over, even the twinkling lights of gazebos and restaurant patio’s seem so bleak.

With a quick movement, you switch off the radio and settle for the sound of tires grinding against asphalt. Music wasn’t enjoyable anymore, not like it used to be, not when you were sixteen in your brothers jeep, cruising around with his best friend and it’s all so easy.

Your eyes felt painfully heavy, you almost feel stupid for getting behind the wheel. You want to give in and close your eyes, to just float and forget.

~~~~~~~~~

“There you are, fuck! We were about to send out a search party,” Phoenix laughs as she slides of the barstool with a rum and Coke in hand. It’s all so exhausting. Socializing, growing close - friends even, and then the inevitable doom of being disappointed.

“Hey.” You smile softly, suddenly feeling so small. The gazes of your new crew consumed you and you hold your breath. “Thank you for inviting me out, it’s nice to…”you wonder where exactly you were going with that sentence, then settle on sounding like a moron. “…get out.”

“No, thank you for being the one to lug one of our sorry asses out of the sea one of these days.” Laughs another, your eyes shift toward the name badge. Payback. “My bets on “ol Fanboy here.”

“You realize if she’s pulling my ass out of the water, you aren’t far behind.” Fanboy counters, elbowing his pilot in the ribs. “Right?”

“Hey Rooster!” Phoenix shouts over the loud chatter of the bar. “Come say hi to our new doc!”

You’d forgotten how ingrained peoples callsigns were into their identity. Land, sky, or sea, their callsign was more valuable then their real name. It hadn’t been quite as intense when you were working in the hospital, but they did exist.

“Hu-heyyy,” he drawls out, a little drunk already no doubt. You couldn’t help but smile when you saw him. It were as if the literal sun had been captured in his body, its light threatening to rip through the seams of his tacky Hawaiian shirt. “Nice to meet ya!”

He looked for your name tag, only to realize you had been the only one not in uniform. Civvies was a strict rule you had made for yourself, no matter how tired you were, you never wore your uniform off the base. Plain and simple.

You tell him your name, but he waits for the name that really counts. You clear your throat as you brace yourself with the back of a chair. “They call me Angel.”

“We gotta hear how you got that name.” Payback presses before taking a swig of beer. “I bet it’s one hell of a story.”

The politics of a call sign was just another example of military machismo. It made sense logically, why they were necessary but you had heard your fair share of awful ones to take them too seriously - T-bag, Tiny (last name Richard’s) and Hot crotch to name a few.

Truth is, Angel had been misogyny, thinly veiled as a joke. It’s such a clear memory, you remember it better than your cousin’s wedding that was only a few months ago. The men of the element you’d been assigned didn’t think of you as an equal, but a young, naive girl.

A pet name. A patronizing pet name, the very same ones women had become accustomed to since the dawn of time. When you were quiet, wide eyed and new, you were “princess”, “baby face”, “darling”, “sweet cheeks”, when you stood up for yourself, or commanded the way the others had, suddenly you were “woman”, “bitch” or reduced to just simply “female”.

Lieutenant James “Big Bird” Larson was the worst of them; his taunt’s never took a day off - you weren’t sure if he was capable of ever shutting the fuck up. It wasn’t until shrapnel blasted through his throat, slitting his carotid artery that he was quiet. The blood had spurted like an Italian fountain, the kind you would find in the romantic stretch of Venice that was riddled with wishes in the shape of coins. You had pinched the vein and listened to his gurgled prayers before his wound could be stabilized by back up medics on route.

They still called you Angel, but at least now they had a reason. At least it felt earned.

The comment lingers in the air, you avoid the bait like the plague before gladly taking the hard seltzer Phoenix handed your way. The burn made you cringe as it slithered down your throat like salt in a wound. The last time you’d drank alcohol also happened to be the first and last time you got wasted beyond comprehension.

“Well?” Urges fanboy - damn, so close - with a sigh you give in.

“This guy was bleeding out, so I was pinching off the gash. If I let go he would’ve died…so he said I was his guardian angel.” You over simplified as per usual. “Just medical shenanigans.”

“Dope shit right there.” Fanboy beamed, grateful it wasn’t ironic or an omen that your platoons didn’t have a high rate of survival.

Meandering chatter continued amongst your new comrades, your eyes flickering to the door here and there just to confirm you still had an exit. It felt…insincere. Somehow, you were doing them a disservice by pretending to be present.

You wanted to care about the light hearted jokes, the pool games, the songs they sung at the top of their lungs, but it felt physically impossible. So, alone you sat at the table, more focused on the tiny bubbles of your drink that float periodically to the surface, than joining their game of pool.

“Hangman! Coyote! Get over here so we can kick your ass at pool.” one of them shouts, it didn’t matter who had yelled the name, it mattered who answered the call.

“In your dreams, Rooster.” his voice is the same as you remember, still dripping with cockiness and oozing with cool. Your fingers curl around the cool glass in your hands, pressing your fingertips into it so hard your nails could have snapped clean off.

Water blasts through the windows with a shriek of breaking glass, flooding the bar, uprooting chairs and tables, carrying bottles and bodies. It’s cold and all consuming, and you’re back. Most times it came to you whilst you slept, vulnerable and defenceless, that’s when those memories invaded your mind and possessed your body.

The water is red, a frighteningly, bright red, and it leaves the taste of pennies on your tongue. The body floats. You fought the water with every muscle in your body, and your throat burns as a mixture of salt water and blood sting your lungs. You nearly have him in your arms but it’s just so hard, you almost have him, his parachute ghosting at your finger tips as you reach, desperately trying to cling to him.

“No” It’s horrible the way it comes out, like a strangle in the back of your throat. “Please, no, please!” And suddenly you’re praying, and wondering if God exists at all in the same breath.

“Angel, you good?” Phoenix asks, resting her chin on the que, concern washes over her face.

Hangman’s attention shifts from the pool game onto Phoenix for a moment, following her gaze he settled on you. A look of confusion falls into a soft, sullen look.

“No.” you squeak out, your head shaking ever so slightly. He doesn’t move, he doesn’t dare move until you do. Digging your heels into the varnished wood floor, your chair screeches as you get to your feet. It’s more of a whisper this time, but it slips out again. “No.”

Jake Seresin had run through your life like a tornado through a small town, and you’d spend far too long digging through the debris and picking through the pieces that broke apart in the chaos , to put yourself through that again. You slap a five, or maybe it was a ten, you couldn’t be sure or really give a damn, down on the table. It’s a sickly feeling that creeps up from the pit of your stomach and radiated throughout yours nerves, seizing your spine and rendering you fingers numb.

“Sorry.” You choke, a lump forming in the back of your throat. “Sorry I just have a headache, erm, I guess I forgot to eat today.” You realize in that moment how terrible of a liar you are. Fibs never came easily to you, it was something you wished you worked on, like a fine skill you could hone when necessary.

Gently Bob taps the cup to your arm, now convinced you are famished beyond compare. You yield, taking a few peanuts in your hand.

“Thanks.” You don’t even like peanuts, but you force them into your mouth and chew, and chew and chew until it’s mush. Make them believe you take care of yourself, you remind yourself. “Hey tonight was really fun-” you begin, realistically you’d spent all of what you rounded up to as ten minutes at the Hard Deck. “But I’m not feeling so good, so I think I’ll just head home.”

“Yeah, no, no of course.” She knows it’s a lie, but she smiles anyways.

The second you slip out the back door you gasp for air, taking in as much as physically possible. It almost hurts how far you push your lungs. You brace yourself on the patio ledge, thankful for the privacy of such a pathetic moment. Your head pounded like you’d just been on a three day bender despite having but a lick of alcohol. The bile rises faster then you can even realize what’s happening. Emptying out what little you have, you stifle a sob and heave and heave and heave.

Upside down, the world felt simpler somehow. Perhaps it was due to the fact you couldn’t physically think for a moment, but you weren’t going to waste a moment of peace going over the logistics.

The blood rushes back to your brain as you straighten up. Like divine intervention, your vision clears suddenly, and you set your sights on an unopened bottle of water. Had it not been screwed on so tight, you wouldn’t have trusted no one had put their lips to it. There were worse things, you thought, there were definitely worse things. Taking the warm water in your mouth, you swish it about and pretend it’s not the flavour of melted plastic in the California sun.

Your face buries into the palms of your hands as you lean your elbows on the rail, the sound of waves crashing did well to ease some of your nerves that had been drawn taught.

~~~~~~~~~

Scrambling for your keys as you round the Hard Deck, you freeze just before the drop of the curb. He’s taller then you remember, but perhaps you’ve just forced him out of your mind so often, you simply forgot what he really looked like in person. Even the way he leans against your car is self righteous. It’s your beloved army green jeep, but Jake Seresin could have convinced you it belonged to him had he spoke it into existence.

“You’ve grown up. Christ it’s been forever hasn’t it?” The cool and collected nature of his tone had all but shrivelled and died, what was left was something you couldn’t quite decipher. “I thought our reunion would be a bit more explosive.”

“When have I ever been explosive?” You asked, patting around your jeans for your damn car keys.

“I can think of a few times.” He smirks, but it falls when he see’s how frantic you are to find a means of escape. “Really, are you that desperate to avoid me?”

You ignore him, patting at the denim of your pockets over and over as though the keys might magically appear.

“Look at me, please.” Jake pleads, but you don’t.

It isn’t until you hear the sound of metal meeting metal that your eyes snap up to catch his gaze for the first time in two years, dangling the key ring in front of himself. Coaxing you to step closer like he were holding a string of yarn out to a kitten.

“You left them on the table inside.” He answered before you could even think to ask.

“Oh.”

Twirling the key ring around his finger, he quickly retracts them into his palm. You couldn’t recall ever putting them down. “Can we at least talk?”

“I’d rather not.” It’s empty. You’re empty. It physically pained him not to reach out, to touch and comfort you. He thinks of the Claremont Motel.

Jake’s jaw sets in a hard line, grinding his teeth ever so slightly. “You can’t avoid me forever. I’m inevitable.” His words struck you like a freight train, knocking the wind from your lungs.

“Why? What more is there to say?” You ask, the moon catching in the teary glow of your eyes. You leaned against the hood of your car, stabilizing yourself as the world spun and your stomach flipped.

“It doesn’t even have to about that. I just wan’t to talk. I literally would settle for a discussion about the goddamn weather…how’ve you been?”

“I’m fine.”

“God you’re such a shitty liar.” he conjures a low laugh, with a grin that stirred something you didn’t want to acknowledge.

“Fine, I’m not fine.” You shakily concede. The last time you’d been fine was a time you weren’t sure even existed. “Jake, I-I don’t know what you want from me? If you want to talk, there’s really nothing else to say.” Something clicks in your mind, like a puzzle piece you had spent ages trying to place in it’s spot, sliding into the curves and aligning the edges. “Nothing that couldn’t have been said two years ago.”

Jake had knocked the wind out of himself before, at least three times if he were to count, but this was nothing any physical push could cause. This was a wind he’d held onto in the chambers of his lungs for so long, never thinking it would be stirred again.

“I just want to talk. Please, can we just talk.” His walls are reinforcing, stubborn determination trickling through his demeanour. “Christ, I’ll settle for a chat about the weather…I just miss you.”

“No.” Your teeth grit together, ready to spit, throttle and scream at him. But you breathe out, it’s slow and focused. “The weather is lovely, with zero humidity and a light breeze, and you, Jake Seresin, do not miss me.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Trust me, I’ve spent a long time coming to terms with the ugly truth that you don’t.” It visceral, it’s somewhere between depressed and furious, but it’s so calm that it confuses him.

Waiting, and waiting and waiting, so much time waiting on Jake.

You would have been happy with an e-mail, a voice mail or just any trace of proof that you weren’t just a vessel for his guilt for one night. You hated how badly you wanted him to want you - but you put that dream to rest.

Dreams were silly, and you’d grown far too familiar with nightmares to really mourn the loss.

~~~~~~~~~

Drunk off boxed wine you picked up at a overpriced market on the way home, you sat on the floor of your bedroom, sinking into the lush, fluffy white rug you’d spent way too much money on. The pale blue glow of the television offering the only light you would allow. Anything could of been flashing across the screen, you would have been none the wiser.

There’s a small part of you, it’s minuscule, but you find yourself praying to hear a knock at the door. To have someone hold you and let you sob. Your eyes close and you find yourself pretending the muffled voice on the tv are a crowded room, and you aren’t so incredibly alone.

~~~~~~~~~

Hangman fucked up. Badly.

It was such a small interaction but it stuck to him like glue. The smile your way, the the meeting of gazes, the air of hope that maybe, just maybe, you would give him an inch, but you resisted by a mile. To make matters worse, you’d been so excruciatingly warm to Fanboy. The pressure of G-force had royally wrecked his neck, and Jake could not tear his eyes away, watching as you pressed and prodded the tender flesh at the nape of his neck, feeling for displacement or injury that was worse for wear - you were practically jacking him off.

You even laughed at something he said. What the actual fuck?

It played over and over like a scratched disk, repeating and repeating, anxiety building in his chest. It was a stupid mistake, it was such a colossal rookie mistake. Nearly clipping Phoenix’s wing, Hangman lost control for a moment after getting caught in the jet wash, descending into a terrifying flat spin. White noise fills his ears, the radio fell on deaf ears, someone was hollering his callsign frantically - Rooster maybe? No, no maybe it was Coyote, or Payback?

“Hangman pull the fuck up!” Alphabet’s voice jolts him back into a plane of existence neither here nor there, that for a moment he’s alive, and Hangman’s flying a two seater. “Pull-up!”

And he does. Just hardly recovering from the death spin.

The debrief that followed was tense, uncomfortable and could have been avoided had he just focused.

Had he not gotten Alphabet killed.

Finally dismissed, his fellow TOPGUNS stretched and yawned as they rose from their seats, meandering toward the exit but lingering about the room as they slipped into conversation. A chorus of “I need a drink after that” and “Let’s get wasted” filtering out of their mouths.

It wasn’t often Hangman was criticized or his technique critiqued, more often than not because he didn’t screw up, but led by example. He couldn’t make anymore mistake from here on out, he refused to, but that started with you.

“You’re going to get me killed.” He sings, striding toward you with . there’s hint of anger interlaced with the smoothness of his voice. “But I guess you wouldn’t hate that, would you?”

You quirk a brow his way, hands deep in your medic bag. It’s so ridiculous you almost don’t acknowledge it. “Sorry?”

“This whole cold shoulder shit? It’s getting in my head. We need to talk this shit out, right now” It’s just above a whisper, not wanting the others who lingered around to hear.

“You can’t be serious.” You sigh, zipping up the bag without so much as meeting his eyes.

“Look, I get it. You hate me. I’m a horrible person. But we need to leave that shit outside of the base, it’s affecting my work.”

“You are the one that keeps bringing it up. Just stick to your own shit and I’ll stick to mine.” your throw your hands up in bewilderment - It sounds simple in theory but it was far more complicated than that. “I’ve literally not said a word to you today.”

“That’s what I’m fucking talking about!” It’s louder than he’d hoped. Rooster’s attention now drawn to the two of you. Phoenix and Fanboy take notice soon after. Bob had noticed long before the others, but dare not get in the middle.

“You good over there?” Rooster asked as he stepped away from the group.

“It’s nothing.” Hangman snaps, looking over his shoulder with a venomous look in his eyes.

“Look, if we’re going to be working together, we need to at least try to-to come to an understanding” he offers, the sound of his voice reverberating throughout the room as he focuses back on you.

“Jake-“ you start, but he’s still going, wound up like a toy car that’s only started his race.

“I mean, with all due respect, I just want to be able to do my job and not be distracted.” He continues, your knuckles pale at your sides as they ball up the material of your uniforms.

“Jake.” You make another attempt, but it’s futile.

“But I can’t, because you’re acting like a child.” Now he’s really getting riled up, but you were no stranger to that. “You’re being selfish, you realize that don’t you? How long can you hate me for?”

“Hangman!” You bark it out like an order, and it takes him by surprise. You don’t give him a chance to overpower the conversation. “I don’t hate you.”

The truth punches him in the throat, you swear his face softens from the hardness he usually carries.

“I never did, but it’s so hard being near you. When I look at you, I see him dead. I hear him every day. I hear his screams. I hear the static of his com being crushed. I look at you and it all comes back.” The words break apart with a sob, you pout your lips with a twist - a feeble attempt to not cry. “When I look at you it makes me physically fucking sick.”

“Woah, woah guys, chill out!” Phoenix advances on the situation, ready to pull you out. “It’s been a long day, let's just cool off.” Phoenix tries but you dodge her touch, swerving around her attempt to peace keep.

“Hurting him wasn’t enough, was it?” you hiss - it’s cruel and you know it is. Protecting his conscience was no longer a concern.

~~~~~~~~~

The hot steam of the shower seemed to soothe the tension you’d developed in your muscles after your little run in with Jake, but the thought of him grazing near death today set your stomach in painful knots you were struggling to ignore. The cool tile brought relief to the headache you’d developed as you couldn’t stop reliving the horrible, stupid, awful fight in your head. The rhythmic thud-like heart beat in your temples was growing louder by the second.

Thud.Thud.Thud.

Pushing off the shower wall, you feel around for the tap, carefully listening as you weren’t sure if you were going crazy - sure it felt like a percussion was sounding off in your skull, but that was not just a headache.

Grabbing a towel, you quickly wrap around your check and tuck it into itself, securing it atop your breasts as you stumble out of the shower. Sliding your feet into the dry, cotton slippers you wore about the house post shower, and crept out of your bathroom.

Your heart raced, keeping with the frantic pace of the knocking. “Hold on!” You holler, discreetly tip toeing around furniture so you didn’t alert whoever was waiting outside the door of your proximity - a skill you mastered from the countless times your neighbours tried to invite you over for wine.

Peeking through the peep hole, you freeze.

“Jake?” You ask, the distorted fishbowl view of him was almost humorous. You unbolt the chain, and slide it across before turning the main lock. Just a crack, you open the door and peer out. “Sorry I didn’t hear you over the shower…”

“Can I come in…and talk?” God, he really wanted to do that huh?

“I’m not really dressed.” You almost laugh, but he’s so serious that you can’t bring yourself to.

“Don’t worry, nothing I haven’t seen.” He purses his lips matter-o-factly to the side. He’s looking at you, waiting for permission, and against all better judgment you let him in.

“You-how do you know where I live?” It’s squeaky, not at all how you wanted to convey the question.

“The jeep.” It’s not original to own a four door jeep in army green, not in a town that is etched into a naval base. But you know how he knows. It’s the same way dog tags all feel the same, but if you blindly felt through a pile of silver names, you could pick his out every time. You’re brother had that effect on people. His soul stashed away into little pieces of a life left behind.

You linger in the entrance of your small apartment for a moment, not quite sure what to say or do. Protectively fingers clutch the tucked knot of towel, and you feel his eyes stealing glances.

The last and only time you’d been so naked in front of him was the night of the funeral. Both on grievance leave for the next three days, you decided to stay in a motel. You couldn’t handle being at home, not without your brother. It was so empty. The absence of his hollering laugh, or the sound of old sixties rock and roll blasting from his speakers as he’d roll up in his jeep - just coming home as you were waking up. It would kill you if you’d spent another second in that painfully quiet house. You were sure of it.

Your feet ached as you walked around the town you grew up in, leaning into Jake, passing back and forth a bottle of whiskey in a brown paper bag, searching for memories of your brother in the streets, and the stop signs he drove through, or in the tree’s he climbed when he was twelve and you were just nine, worrying yourself sick he’d fall and crack his skull. In truth you both drank that night, but not enough to get wasted, just enough to ease the sharpness that made a home for itself in your chest.

For weeks you’d thought about how he reclined you on the hotel mattress, lips on yours, a salty taste on your tongue as quiet tears slipped from his eyes and mixed with your own. His loose tie dangling down and sending shivers across your skin as it brushed your neck. For months you could feel the ghost of his touch climbing up your pantyhose clad thigh, slipping beneath the black skirt of your dress, slipping into you.

You’d spent so long believing he hadn’t given the night at the Claremont much thought, just another drunken escapade for the books, but Jake still felt the imprint of your heel that hooked around his leg when he kissed you against the motel room door; the husky moans that sung at the back of your throat as you ravaged each other in kisses. He closed his eyes more often then not, and tried to relive that moment, to memorize every detail and sensation, to chase that high for as long as possible. He thought about it when he climbed altitudes, he thought the higher he went the closer he’d get to that feeling again - not once, not even close. Not by a long shot.

You could hear the whispers of sweet nothings still humming in your ears when you tried to focus, when you tried to drown out the aching feeling that you couldn’t shake. You think of that dingy hotel room, lit by nothing but the milky glaze of moonlight and the “Vacancy” sign flickering in seedy neon reds. The feeling of his lips on your jaw, down your neck, peppering across your breast, lower and lower, here and there and there.

“Why did you make me go through it alone?” it’s courage mixed with fear and it leaks through the cracks of your voice, like downpour on an old roof.

It’s so vivid in your mind; the morning haze bleeding through motel curtains, seeping onto your bare skin. The nervous excitement that settled in, as flashes of the night came crawling back into your consciousness like a hangover. It’s the devastation of his clothes not strewn about the room, entangles with yours, and the absence of a text - god, you hadn’t been worth a ten second text - and the absence that follows for months, dragged onto two years.

“Because I’m a coward.” It’s the most honest thing he’s ever said. The facade of top gun, machismo, ladies man surrendered, leaving behind the man who stood before you. It was almost voyeuristic, like a sight unseen - a sight you weren’t supposed to see, and yet there you were, baring witness. “I was scared. I couldn’t face you sober. If I stayed I thought you’d realize you hated me.”

His gaze is distant, like he doesn’t want to be there. He can’t be there. A raw pain simmering in the blue of his iris, he couldn’t face you then or and he couldn’t face you now

“I was such a fucking idiot back then.” He sighs, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. Slowly he nodded, settling on the statement. “I was being stupid and reckless, all for a stupid mission I didn’t even end up going on in the end.”

Rivalry was nurtured by the military, encouraged by old men who hadn’t put their lives on the line in decades. They made you feel like you had to be the best, it was terrifying to think you weren’t. It was unbearable how hard the pressure to be the top of the class became, but when Hangman was running out of chances, Alphabet was there to spare another life.

He had been warned they were too high, that the others weren’t on their asses anymore, but it was too late. Higher and higher he made them fly, he wouldn’t be shot down - he wouldn’t allow himself to lose. Jake had surrendered to G-LOC, they both had.

While Jake came to, and ejected when it counted, it was too late for Zach, the timing was all wrong. Tangled in his parachute, slammed against the cliff sides, shattering bone on bone - it was all too gory to even imagine. He knew you didn’t have to though, and that’s what killed him.

“Honestly, I wish it was me.” He stifles a sob, pinching the bridge of his nose as he drops his head.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, it’s all so caring and sweet and he doesn’t deserve it. He knows it. “What I said before, about hurting him…it wasn’t fair.”

“I wish I could go back.”

“We can’t, Jake. We can’t. I think it’s time we stop trying to.” you reach for his hand, still clutching the towel with your other.

He finds himself pressing a kiss to the flesh of your knuckles, it’s hesitant, careful. You pull free before grabbing fabric of his shirt and putting all your faith in the towel, pulling him into you. Pull. Pull. Pull.

You’d spend so much time pushing, you couldn’t stand to waste another second of not being in his orbit. Your lips find his, and a cross between a moan and whine murmurs against your mouth vibrates. It’s messy at first, his reaction time off but he quickly comes to, a firm hand finds your waist and he walks you back.

For so long you wanted to be numb, to rid yourself of feeling. Whether you’d achieved it through booze, or an edible here or there, as long as it let you forget, as long as it could lull you to sleep in the sanctity of your bedroom, that’s all that counted.

But now you wanted to feel everything. The sting of his teeth biting at your lip, the light tug at your hair, the taste of his tongue that had the lingering flavour of his favourite strawberry sports drink - everything, all at once. The strength of his grip dug into your waist, too afraid he’d lose you if he didn’t anchor you in place, he could’ve cried.

“Promise me.” You murmur between breaths, his mouth finding your neck.

“Anything.” He breaks away, cupping your face in the palm of his hand.

“Promise me that you want me.” You almost weep, it’s such a terrifying thought. “That you want me, not just need me right now.”

“I want you,” he breathes, dragging the pads of his thumb along your cheeks as you clutch his wrists. “I want you so much that I can’t breathe.”

For the first time, in a long time, you could look at the man who made you feel this life altering fight or flight, and felt safe.

As dawns kiss painted you in it’s pale golden light, wrapped and entangled sound Jake’s legs, he allowed himself a sliver of forgiveness. Your touch was healing, even in slumber, even when you didn’t try.

There wasn’t a chance in hell that Jake “Hangman” Seresin was running away, not from this, not from you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: This is my first TG:M fic, I hope it’s okay. I literally went off the deep end lol, enjoy! Reblog’s and comments make me feral, I will kiss you if you do. Let me know if you liked it <3

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #top gun maverick #top gun: maverick #jake seresin imagine #hangman x reader #hangman imagine #hangman self insert #hangman x you #hangman x yn #hangman x y/n #glen powell #glen powell x reader #glen powell imagine #glen powell fanfiction #hangman fanfiction #hangman fanfic #top gun:maverick

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love-fictional-ppl · 1 month

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Petite!fem!reader w/ a high metabolism

Part 1

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Summary: this is part 2 to a request. reader goes off on “almond mom” for judging her for eating while out w her man🤞

Pairings: Sabo x reader, Trafalgar D. Water Law x reader

Warnings: language, Karens, mentions of sex, drinking, food (obviously), characters are kinda ooc

A/N: this was requested so long ago and I genuinely feel horrible for how long you have had to wait for a part 2. I hope that you atleast enjoy this @babbiebooc

༚༅༚˳✿˳༚༅༚

Sabo:

Tbh he finds it cute

Is that bitch that compares it to his little brother

Will ask you if you ate or if you’re hungry

Doesn’t fuss too much about your eating since he knows you can handle yourself

The revolutionary army had sent troops to an island village. You and Sabo at the moment had plenty of downtime.

“Sabooooo, I’m hungryyyy,” you whine.

“Let’s go get a bite to eat then,” Sabo replies. Wandering around looking for a tavern or restaurant, you finally spot a tavern.

You and Sabo find a spot to sit, out of the way but able to observe who came in and out. You were especially hungry today having ate nothing all day. You decided you didn’t mind spending money since you had just gotten paid.

Sabo ordered himself something to eat and a drink. You both chat and enjoyed your food and each other’s presence.

After a moment you noticed the slight frown on Sabo’s face. You sat and listened for a second and heard a woman talking with her family.

“It baffles me how some women can’t even have the decency to use proper table manners in front of their men,” you were fuming hearing her words.

Before you could do anything, Sabo spoke up, “And it baffles me you don’t even have the decency to talk about somebody you don’t know out of earshot.”

The woman looked flushed and overall embarrassed, nonetheless she went back to eating silently this time.

You couldn’t help feeling butterflies after seeing Sabo stick up for you.

“You know, that was really hot,” you told him.

“Was it?” He responded, cheeky.

“Why don’t we head on out of here?”

Sabo didn’t respond, he simply set down a sack full of berries to pay. He then, grabbed your hand pulled you and dragged you out the place.

Trafalgar D. Water Law:

He doesn’t really care honestly

In his opinion eating is healthy therefore if you wanna eat a entire buffet, knock yourself out

He only finds it odd that you eat so much but barely put on 2 pounds

Thinks ur stomach is a wormhole

You were hungry and wanted to get something to eat, Law originally wasn’t gonna come but then after 10 minutes he decided to join you.

You browsed the market set up in the town considering cooking something yourself, then you spotted a restaurant with the best looking desserts.

Law wandered off to go find a bar but promised he would return. In the meantime you decided to order yourself almost the entire menu.

While you were busy chowing down on a chocolate cake u hear a woman talking a few little girls. Maybe her daughter and her friends?

You hear the withered looking woman say, “You see how she’s sitting alone, that’s for a reason. Eat like that and you’ll be just like her when you’re big girls.”

You started tearing up out of frustration. “Actually you witch, there’s a reason why I eat the way I do. And I’m not alone, thank you very much, I have a boyfriend who will be here any minute. When he does get here me and him will be leaving to go have sex, have a good day.” You slammed the money on the table, oblivious to the fact Law had just witnessed the whole thing.

You heard Law say something like stupid cunt and turned around to see him glaring at the woman.

You almost started sobbing out of relief to see him. Law stared back at you with a relaxed smile and calmly asked, “so are we gonna go have sex?”

Laughing uncontrollably, you reply, “hell yes.”

Smiling like idiots, you walk back to the ship hand in hand.

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A/N: ok so I was gonna include kid but my tumblr is glitching where every time I save the draft it deletes his part😭😭

#one piece sabo #one piece #trafalgar law #trafalgardwaterlaw #revolutionary sabo #flame emperor sabo #sabo x reader #one piece law #trafalgar d law x reader

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pinejayy · 10 months

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╰┈➤ Scarlet Witch S/O || Demon Slayer Headcanons

Including: hantengu clones and zohakuten // for zohakuten is only platonically

requested by @phoenix-supremecy

summary: clones reacting to their s/o having powers like scarlet witch, and to the clones reacting to reader ripping off sekido’s jaw/lips off for yelling at them.

warnings: blood, reader ripping sekido’s jaw off, some nsfw implied (on karaku’s part) cuss words,

Sekido

Now the red eyed demon is quite impressed with your powers! He’s so amazed on how a human can hold these great powers, and he admires how strong you are. But you’ll never be as strong as him and he let’s you know by his harsh words.

His harsh words are the reason of your guy’s argument. You don’t understand why he’s always talking down on you and that he’s always reminding you that he’s better than you.

One day you were in a bad mood, and you were just relaxing with the other clones and that’s when he came in and started to yell at you and only you. “Why in the Hell are you just sitting around! Get the fuck up, we need to train! If you want to improve on your skills you need to train!”

And you just sat there, narrowing your eyes at him. The other clones looked at you expecting you to listen to him, but everyone was shocked when they heard flesh ripping away from the body and bones popping out of place. And that’s when you were holding Sekido’s jaw in your hand. Blood was pouring all over his clothing, and all you could hear was him choking on his blood.

Aw, you want this back?” You asked him, to which he just nodded and you smirked. “Well if I give this back to you, you have to get off my back.” And he just shook your head which made you shake your head and turn around, and as you were about to turn around you heard him choke on his blood even more.

Looking at him. “Aw, I take that as a yes then.” You say and throw him his jaw at his face and walk away with a huge smile on his face. The other clones are probably laughing at him.

Karaku

Now the green eyed demon is probably turned on by your powers! He loves how powerful you are and honestly with this power you have he thinks your sexy/handsome, and he loves it whenever you use your powers in the bedroom, it makes things more excited.

So you and your green eyed demon love fool around a lot in the bedroom which pisses off sekido alot! Maybe it’s because of the loud moans or noises you guys make, or maybe the fact he doesn’t have someone who can please him. So Sekido is always yelling you and at Karaku.

Today you and Karaku were in a separate room, you on his lap. Both of you sharing a deep and passionate kiss and that’s when Sekido came in yelling at both of you. “Are you guy’s seriously at it again! Y/N shouldn’t you be training so you can improve on your powers! And yet here you are being a whore with your boyfriend.

And that’s when you slowly started to turn your head towards him, your head snapping to the side. You stare at Sekido’s eyes. His red eyes piercing into yours. And that’s when the room was filling with the scent of blood, and fleshing ripping away from the body.

And right there you were holding onto a chunk of Sekido’s mouth on the palm of your hand. You just smile at him. “You want this back huh?” And you could hear was him choking on his own blood. Karaku couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

And you stood up. “Okay then, go get it boy!” You say, and throw his ripped mouth/lips out of the room. “Go fetch!” And with that he ran out of the room. And look at Karaku. “God that was so hot babe.” He told you.

Aizetsu

Now the gentle Demon is so kind towards you, he’s so amazed by your powers. And he’s so happy that you belong with him, and he’s always willing to help you improve on your powers because he believes that some day you can surpass him and the other clones.

Aizetsu is quite clingy with you, he loves you with all his heart. He wants to protect you but he knows that you can handle yourself with your powers. But that doesn’t mean he’ll stop protecting you. With that being said, Sekido hates the fact that you have powers and he hates that maybe one day you’ll be more powerful than him,

So you and Sekido are always fighting and yelling at each other, which makes the blue eyed demon very sad, and it breaks his heart seeing two people he’s close with fight all the time. “Please don’t fight guys, it’s making me very sad.”

And Sekido couldn’t help but snap at him, slapping him across the face and hissing at his comment. “Shut the hell up, I don’t care if it makes you sad. You’re an Upper Moon! Grow a pair of ba-”

You didn’t give him an opportunity to finish his sentence, since he was choking on his own blood. You ripping off his throat with your powers. And he tried getting back his bloody throat which you backed away. “If you ever touch him again, I’ll rip something else off next time. Now get out of my sight.” You say throwing his throat at his face.

You smile and turn back to your boyfriend, he was so shocked as no one ever stood up for him like that. He looked at you with so much love! “Wow you did that for me my love?”

Urogi

Now this chicken nugget is so happy that he found someone who isn’t just a normal weak human! He found you with these beautiful powers! And he’s so impressed with your skills, and with your powers he doesn’t have to treat you like glass, he can roughhouse with you.

Both of you guys love messing around and love playing around the woods, you guys could be playing tag and with your powers and his wings its a very fun game of tag. But with you guys playing around it makes Sekido very upset.

Sekido thinks you shouldn’t be wasting your powers on stupid childish games, he believes that you should be working on your powers and be thinking about improving on yourself!

“Come on Y/N! Stop with these stupid games! You need to improve on your powers if you want to be useful to us!” He said snapping at you! “Stop playing with Chicken Fingers!”

You watched him as he talked down on you and Urogi and you smiled at him, and your left eye twitched soft. And the area was filled with bones snapping and cracking. Sekido stood there with a dislocated jaw, he couldn’t speak. Urogi looked at you, his eyes wide open. He was shocked and he laughed nervously.

Before Sekido could jump you Urogi grabbed you and carried you and flew off and away from the demon. He couldn’t help but laugh nervously “Remind me not to piss you off my dear!”

Zohakuten (PLATONICALLY )

Now he looked at you as parent figure and he does care for you. And with your powers he’s wants to protect you no matter what. You’re the only good thing in his life. The other Clones piss him off to the extreme and he hates it. So yeah!! Please protect him and he’ll protect you.

Now he likes the idea of you improving your powers because he wouldn't have to worry about you getting hurt, he knows your strong and can take care of yourself but still, he worries about you.

As he dislikes the other clones he mostly gets in fights with Sekido. How great right? Two angry red eye demons fighting. So you were enjoying some time with Zohakuten and the other clones. And you don’t know what happened but both Sekido and Zohakuten were yelling at each other. And you didn’t like the idea of Sekdio yelling at him, it made you feel uneasy.

And you could tell Zohakuten was getting angrier by the second and you knew you had to step in, since the other clones weren’t doing anything but just watching. So you did the best option, you ripped off Sekido’s tongue off with your powers, he was choking on his blood. The bloody tongue was on the floor and you spoke up. “Don’t you yell at him, you’re lucky that was only your tonuge.”

The clones were shocked, but Zohakuten looked at Sekido’s struggling as he choked on his own blood. Zohakuten couldn’t help but laugh out loud. A deep laugh filled the room. It made your blood run cold. And the other clones went pale, as his laugh was uneasy.

Zohakuten grabbed your wrist “Come on Y/N, let’s go. Let this fool choke on his blood.”

#demon slayer #kny #x reader #reader insert #sekido #karaku #aizetsu #urogi #zohakuten #hantengu clones #hantengu

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rubyreduji · 8 months

Note

🧸 Woooo happy anniversary/3k! =D May I ask for a Woozi drabble? I'm thinking something along the lines of the reader being a witch/magic user but she's also a witch/magic user hunter, tracking down those that misuse their power against normal folk. She goes above and beyond to hide this from Woozi but he and a few of the members just so happen to be near during one of her fights. Plot twist: he already knew! Fluffy romance, if you please. I hope this is okay, thanks so much!

— sleepover event now over!! 🧸️

the witches in the woods - ljh

summary: being a witch and a witch hunter is not always the easier, having to keep your two identities separate, but it’s the job you have to do to keep from your crush finding out

tags: fluff, witch & witch-hunter!reader, witch-hunter!jihoon, f!reader wc: 1.7k an: this made me miss watching the owl house lol </3 so some of the powers may be based off that…this is a bit more plot than fluff but i hope you enjoy!

“Pull back! They outpower us!” You hear Seungcheol’s call from your earpiece.

You know if your whole team was here you guys would be able to take them on, but your whole team isn’t here, deciding to split up earlier. The thing is your split up team couldn’t take them, but you can. You tune out Seungcheol’s orders, continuing hot on the trail of the five witches ahead of you.

You can already feel your magic coursing through your veins as you start to gain on them. It’s been so long since you’ve been in a proper fight, always relying on your team rather than your powers, keeping them a secret from anyone else.

It’s not like being a witch is uncommon in this day and age, but when you work a job with the title “Witch Hunter” it’s probably best to keep that part of your identity secret. Though you’re fairly sure that even if your team did find out it wouldn’t change anything, you don’t want to run the risk if you don’t have to.

That being said, you quite miss using your powers and you can help but let giddiness overtake you as you chase after the other witches. You can hear their snickers of joy, thinking they’ve gotten away, but you’re not going to let that happen.

You raise your hand, feeling your mind and body connect with the woods around you. You focus your energy into the tree branches before you clench your fist and drag it down, causing all of the branches to grow down into a wall, cutting off the path from the witches. Before they even have time to process what just happened, you throw your hand back into the air, raising vines from the ground to wrap around their bodies and suspend them in the air.

“What the- there!” One of them calls, pointing at where you stand a few feet away.

“A witch!” Another shouts.

“Traitor!” The first one yells. “You’re a witch, what are you doing helping the enemy?”

“Enemy?” You spit out. “The only enemy is you guys. No witch should ever misuse their powers yet you guys run around and do nothing but commit crimes. People are getting hurt because of you!”

The man chuckles. “What’s the point of powers if you can’t enjoy them? Who cares if some people get hurt? That adds to the fun!”

You roll your eyes. You don’t know why you’re standing here listening to them. They’re the ones who are on the unfortunate side of this predicament.

You wrap a vine around their mouths in hopes to shut them up as you reach for the anti-magic cuffs on your belt. You push the vines to the ground, pinning the witches down. You move over to them, snapping the cuffs on the loud-mouthed man who is clearly the leader of them. He curses you out the whole time and you wish you also had tape on you to shut him up.

You’ve clicked the cuff on the second person and are moving to the third when you hear a shout. “Y/N!” It’s Jihoon.

Jihoon, the one person who absolutely can not find out you’re a witch. Not only due to your eensy weensy crush on him, but also due to the fact that he comes from the longest standing dynasty of witch hunters.

In a mere second, your concentration is lost, the vines loosening their grips on the witches, allowing the three uncuffed ones to quickly break out of them. Out of the corner of the eye you see a flash from the trees and you recognize the figure as Jihoon.

Shit.

“Y/N, watch out!” You whip around to see a rock hurtling towards your face. You quickly shoot your hand up, stopping the rock and making it crumble into tiny pieces. A flicker of shock passes the attacking witch’s face.

Jihoon isn’t the only one coming from a long line of powerful people. It’s not common for witches to be able to harness multiple kinds of magic, but you’re a bit special.

Normally if it was just you, you’d be able to wipe all three of the witches out, but you now have to think about Jihoon standing a few feet behind you. You don’t have much time to assess the situation either, with attacks coming at you from three ways. It’s taking all of your energy and focus just to be on defense, let alone offense.

“Y/N!” You can hear Jihoon’s approaching and you quickly create a vine to block him off from the fight.

“Jihoon, stay back! I have it covered.” A fireball shoots past your head right as you say this and you quickly pull your attention back to the fight.

You sweep your arm in one large arc, growing the ground up to trap the witches’ feet. With the few seconds of distress you’ve put them in you regrow the vines around their bodies, trapping their hands to their sides.

You don’t allow yourself to lose focus this time, carefully placing the handcuffs securely on the final three witches’ wrists. They’re all grumbling as you do so, even one going far as to spit at your feet.

Once all five of them are firmly secured again, you finally withdraw Jihoon’s restraints. You don’t look at him as you hear him call Seungcheol through your communication devices, giving him the update on your positions and the status of the witches.

You busy yourself with getting yourself recomposed until Seungcheol and Vernon run up. “Woah,” Seungcheol mutters, looking at the damage of the woods and the vines wrapped around the witches. “Well, uhm, good work team. Let’s gather up the others and get these guys out of here.”

No one speaks about the elephant in the room as your team regroups and waits for the people from the Witch Hunter’s Association to come and pick the witches up. As soon as Seungcheol releases you all, you quickly book it, heading far away from your team.

“Y/N, wait!” Somehow in just two words, dread fills your body. You want to run away, or even use a spell to disappear, but you know you can’t run away forever. You take a deep breath before turning around to face the one and only Lee Jihoon.

You can’t read the emotion on his face and you can’t tell if that’s a good or bad thing. Deep down you know that Jihoon won’t do anything to you, but that doesn’t help the way your throat tightens as you stare at him. You’re both still in your hunter gear and you really take in Jihoon. He looks exactly like his father, the man most notorious for locking away the most witches in the history of witch hunters.

The gear looks comfortable on his body, his boots well worn and his pants faded from prolonged use. His gloves and goggles both stick out of his pockets and his belt is well loaded with gear, Jihoon never low in stock.

You open your mouth, like you’re about to say something, but the words don’t come out and you’re glad they don’t because you’re not sure what you even want to say. You close your mouth instead.

“Can we talk?” Jihoon’s voice is soft, like he’s also unsure of his words.

“U-uhm, su-ure,” you say, hating the shakiness in your voice.

“Let’s walk.” Jihoon starts to walk, walking past you as he does. You’re forced to follow, a few steps behind him. “You know, I was never going to go into this field. I was going to be the first in my family to do something that wasn’t witch hunting, yet here I am. Ask me why?”

“…Why?”

“Because I wanted to be better than my dad. Better than the rest of my whole family.” For a second, you wonder if Jihoon is going to kill you right here on the spot. “My job as a witch hunter is to incarcerate every bad witch, and to protect every good witch from dangers coming from their own people, and from my own people.”

Your pace slows down as you listen to Jihoon talk, eventually stopping just so you can stare at him. Jihoon senses you’re not with him anymore and stops as well, turning to face you. His gaze finally meets yours for the first time since in the woods.

“I’m not mad at you Y/N. I don’t care that you’re a witch, because you’re a good person. You’re my friend, and you’ve proved time and time again where your morals stand. Everyone on the team knows that too, so don’t be afraid. Not to mention you’re a valuable asset to us, we’d be fools to let you go over something as trivial as something you can’t change about yourself.”

Your body is flooded with relief. Your heart lightens at Jihoon’s words.

“I- thank you,” you say, tears brimming in your eyes.

Jihoon walks closer to you, so you’re face to face. “I may have…also known,” he admits.

You go slack jawed. “How?!”

Jihoon chuckles at you. “When you come from a long line of witch hunters you learn to pick up on things, and it’s not like your own lineage is too secretive. I may have also caught you using your powers one day.”

You groan, causing Jihoon to laugh again.

“I don’t know why I was so worried,” you murmur. “I know you and the guys on the team aren’t like that…but-”

“It’s okay. Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad that we’re good.”

“Yeah…good,” you mutter. You and Jihoon stand there in silence for a moment and you wonder if this is your cue to part ways. You’re about to walk away from Jihoon when he stops you.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Actually I uh…if you wouldn’t mind, would you perhaps tell me more about witches? Maybe over dinner one night?”

You raise an eyebrow at Jihoon. “Was that an attempt…to ask me out?”

You try to hide your giddiness at the idea, choosing to tease him instead.

You watch as Jihoon’s ears turn red. “I- maybe. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be focused on the witch thing. You’re so much more than that. So Y/N, will you please do me the honors of letting me take you out for dinner, on a date? And we don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to.”

You grin at Jihoon, wide and bright. “I would love to. And don’t worry, I’ll give you all the details about being a witch. Maybe you’ll even get to meet my parents.”

Jihoon turns even redder, and you’re not sure if it’s from the notion of him meeting your parents, or him coming in contact with some of the most powerful witches of the century. Either way, you’re sure that dating Jihoon is going to be nothing but fun.

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