#I was put on this earth to make content for the little fandoms truly | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

archived-kin · 3 years

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solomon deserves a husband so i'm giving him one (it's you)

note from kin: i don’t know HOW i’ve managed to get this out so soon after my last piece but i do know that it is a miracle (now watch me disappear for like a month lmao)

anyway there’s a severe lack of content for the boys in this fandom and therefore i am here to try to mitigate that!!

(as a heads up, this is sort of an au version of obey me’s story?? there’s no exchange program, and the general human world doesn’t know about the devildom or celestial realm, apart from sorcerers and similar special cases. solomon and simeon both still visit the devildom, though - solomon because he has a sort of job at the r.a.d., and simeon as an ambassador sort of thing for the celestial realm. the r.a.d.’s also less of a school and more of an organisation?? i haven’t really fleshed it out haha)

fandom: obey me!

character(s): male! reader, solomon, mammon (briefly), simeon (briefly)

pairing(s): solomon/reader

warning(s): blasphemy??? solomon disses god really briefly and that’s about it

genre: fluff!!!!!!!!!

As a general rule of thumb, Solomon doesn’t believe in destiny.

He’s lived long enough to know that, no matter what he does, the universe does not care about him, much less have some sort of plan for his future. The course that the world takes isn’t affected by some grand puppet master pulling the strings; one has to force the so-called path of fate in the direction they want it to take if they want something. Solomon knows this better than anyone.

It’s as much a downfall as it is a strength - as much as power as he’s amassed over the countless years, his constant need to challenge the universe’s power has lead him down a path far from humanity. There had been a time when he was like every other human on the Earth, when he was still young, full of hope and determination and promise, believing earnestly in some God high in the sky who would guide him through his life.

He shudders to think what sort of insufferable fool he’d been back then. An almighty God? Don’t make him laugh. The ruler of the Celestial Realm is incompetent at best, and a downright childish brat at worst. He doesn’t know how the angels put up with him - though he supposes his realm-smiting power is part of it. Why the universe chose to place such power on such a being’s shoulders will always be beyond him.

Long as it has been since he had been so naive, Solomon has learnt his lesson, to say the least. He’s seen people come and go, witnessed kings and queens reign and fall, watched on as friends and family live and die. It’s a truth that he’s been forced to learn across the years of his long, long life, a curse that he brought upon himself the moment he gave up the purity of his soul in pursuit of magical arts.

He supposes he’s always had an insatiable thirst for the unknown - to play all his cards out front, to tempt fate’s hand, to jump into the void and hope to find ground beneath his feet when he lands. It’s that sort of reckless abandon and hunt for knowledge that has led him so far down this path, through so many years, across so many sleepless nights. The world continues to swirl around him, always changing, but Solomon refuses to be swept away. Because, even in the tumultuous movement of the universe, there has always been one constant that keeps him anchored - you.

The night he'd first met you isn’t as clear in his mind as he would have liked. He wants to be able to remember everything - the way the soft blue light of the will-o’-whisps had lit up your eyes in the dark of the night, the way that your hand had felt in his as you greeted him with a handshake, the way that you had said his name for the first time - in sharp detail, but Solomon knows better than to hope to recall something so long ago so perfectly.

He’d still been relatively new to a sorcerer’s life at the time - excited and determined and a little too full of himself. You… well, he doesn’t remember exactly, but he does remember thinking that you must be the most handsome being to exist. The you of today would probably shake your head and dismiss the past you as an obnoxious high hoper, but Solomon has loved you for so many years that he’s never been able to think of you as anything less than perfect.

There are times when he wondered how he managed to stumble upon such luck. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that Solomon has has had truly insufferable periods over the years he’s known you, and he’s always considered it a miracle that you still chose to stay. Even through all the restless nights and the exhausting trips, even after all of the clashes and vexation, you have refused to give up on him.

He had asked you once, in the aftermath of an argument spurred by his inability to confide in you and your own frustration with his refusal to communicate. He remembers that night so vividly that it might well have happened just yesterday - the frustrated shouts, the shattering of glass, the warmth of your arms around his shoulders as he finally collapsed on himself. He doesn’t know what your face had looked like as he stuttered the question out in stuttering breaths, head buried in your shoulder in an effort to conceal his tears, but he imagines that it had been soft.

“I’m not going to leave you to yourself,” You had told him matter-of-factly, stroking his hair with such fondness that it still sometimes brings a tear to his eye when he remembers it on particularly long nights. “And I’m not giving up on you, either - not now, not ever.”

Solomon had been unable to speak, too choked up by his feelings and the sudden, overwhelming love spreading through his entire body to reply. He’d only sunk deeper into your embrace, wishing that the moment could last forever.

I wonder if he still remembers that…?

“...lomon! Anyone home?!”

He jolts up from the table he’s sitting at so abruptly that he nearly knocks his head right into Mammon’s chin. The Avater of Greed, however, reacts quickly, and hops back before Solomon can break his jawbone.

“Jeez, you’re off on a different planet today,” He comments, setting his hands on his hips as Solomon shoots him the sort of look that tells him that he’s not particularly enthused about his presence at the moment. “What’s up with ya?”

Solomon isn’t quite sure how to answer. Sorry, I got distracted thinking about how perfect and lovely my husband is and how I’m the luckiest man in the entire world - nay, the universe - to have him. He nearly physically shudders at the thought of how much teasing he’d receive if he answered like that.

Instead, he chooses a much safer and still technically true option. “Just thinking about going home today.”

Mammon nods in understanding, pulling up a seat next to him and throwing himself down into it without much grace. “I feel ya. S’ been a long day.”

“You’ve barely done anything today,” Solomon quips flatly, not particularly impressed by the demon’s attempt at… empathy? Relatability? Either way, it isn’t working. “I doubt it’s been that hard.”

“Now, now, Solomon, let’s not be rude,” interjects a soft voice from behind them. Simeon is still dressed in his fancy envoy cloak - the one so long and heavy that it trails along behind him like a bridal train, decorated with a number of elaborate golden charms that jingle as he moves.

Solomon attempts to shoot him a slightly annoyed look, but it’s kind of hard to stay irritated by one of the literal embodiments of holiness and light, even if he wakes you up at very unholy hours of the morning to help him figure out how to answer an email. Solomon isn’t ungrateful for the new age of technology descending on humanity, but he’d like it a lot better if it hadn’t somehow reached the angels as well. The amount of times he’s had to tell Simeon that he needs to actually turn his D.D.D. on before he starts calling someone is… embarrassing, to say the least.

“You’re back in the Devildom, I see,” He observes as the angel pulls up a seat and sits beside him. “Did Michael send you down again?”

Simeon nods with a smile. “There were some arrangements that needed to be made with Lord Diavolo. Naturally, I volunteered.”

“Naturally,” Solomon echoes, raising a brow at his friend. “I don’t suppose your biases had anything to do with your decision?”

“Well, they may have had some effect,” Simeon answers with a shameless smile and shrug, beginning to undo the tassels of his heavy cloak and draping it on the back of chair he’s sitting on. He’s still wearing all of his regular clothes underneath it - including the other, much smaller cloak. Solomon wonders how he hasn’t somehow melted in the heat.

“When’re you gonna start heading home, anyway?” Mammon asks, beginning to pick at a loose thread on his jacket sleeve. “It’s gettin’ late.”

Solomon blinks and looks up at the clock. “...ah, you’re right. In that case, I'll get going now.”

Mammon shoots him an odd look as he pushes himself up from the table and reaches for his bag, managing to hoist it onto his shoulder with some effort. He’s never been particularly good at heavy lifting - you’re usually the one helping him carry everything around the house.

“Oi, oi, what’s the rush?” the demon asks as Solomon adjusts the weight of his bag and starts heading for the door. “You on a timer or something?”

“I promised [Name] I’d be home earlier tonight,” is Solomon’s slightly absent-minded reply as he fiddles about in his pocket to find his transportation charm, nearly losing his balance and dropping his bag in the process. “I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

Mammon watches him in clear confusion for a moment as he pats down his pockets, mumbling a quiet curse under his breath as he realises that he’s left his charm at home again. How many times this month does that make it now...? He supposes that he could always perform a teleportation spell, but knowing his luck with those, he’ll probably end up somewhere in Morocco again.

“Oi, Simeon,” Mammon hisses to the angel, who cocks his head slightly to the side and leans over so as to hear him more clearly. “Who’s this ‘[Name]’ Solomon’s talkin’ about?”

“You don’t know?” Simeon blinks at him in blatant perplexion - as if he can’t even fathom the idea that Mammon might not know who Solomon’s talking about. “He’s talking about his husband.”

There’s a long moment of silence. Then—

“Solomon has a HUSBAND!?” Mammon practically shrieks, completely flabbergasted. “I thought he was totally, like, the forever alone type!”

“Don’t tell me you’ve never noticed?” is Simeon’s bewildered response. “Who do you think Solomon is always talking about buying groceries for?”

“I thought he was just buyin’ them for himself!” Mammon fires back, looking far more ruffled and shocked than he probably should be. He whips around to look at Solomon, who’s flicking through the little packet of blank charms he keeps on him at all times in an effort to find the right one to create a temporary transportation charm. He’s had to do it so many times this month that he’s already beginning to run out. “You’re married?!”

“Of course,” Solomon answers vaguely, briefly raising his left hand, allowing Mammon to spot the soft glint of a ring around his fourth finger. “You’re not?”

“Wh— ‘course I’m not!” Mammon exclaims, positively scandalised by the very concept. “Why would I get married, huh?! It’s a waste of time and a waste of money!”

“Think whatever you like,” Solomon dismisses him easily, which only seems to irritate Mammon further.

Finally having found the right blank charm, he plucks it out and begins carefully tracing patterns onto it with a single glowing finger. He’s dimly aware of Mammon furiously whispering to Simeon in the background, with the angel responding in kind, most likely sharing some exaggerated story from back when the three of you had worked together - when Solomon had accepted a job from the Celestial Realm. The details of the whole thing are a little fuzzy to him now, long as it has been, but he’s almost completely sure that Simeon somehow still remembers the whole thing flawlessly.

“How old even is he?!” He hears Mammon hiss.

“I’m not so sure myself,” Simeon replies, placing his chin in a thoughtful hand. “Let’s see… their two millennial anniversary’s coming up in about two years, and I remember Solomon saying that they got married when he was around two hundred or so… which means he’s about twenty-one hundred years old.”

“Holy shit,” Mammon mutters in disbelief, turning glance at the sorcerer as he starts folding down the corners of his charm into the right shape. “Humans aren’t supposed to live that long. How’s his husband still alive, then?”

“That isn’t really a question for me to answer,” Simeon shakes his head slightly. “I suppose you can always ask him yourself if Solomon ever brings him to work with him.”

“I doubt it,” Solomon speaks up for the first time since announcing his departure. “He’s usually busy during the day. Besides, transportation charms make him queasy, and I’m not making him walk all the way down here.”

“Aren’t you a wizard?” Mammon asks, scratching his head. “Just do one of ya fancy teleportation spells. Why d’you need a charm?”

Solomon sighs. He hates to admit it, but he can’t be bothered to make up some other reason to cover up for himself. “I’m afraid that teleportation spells aren’t actually particularly accurate. We could end up somewhere in the Pacific if I’m not careful.”

Mammon looks thunderstruck. “Then what about all those times you’ve teleported us?! Don’t tell me we coulda ended up in, like, the Archaic Pit or something?!”

“Well, it was always a possibility,” Solomon shrugs in reply, finishing the charm with a deft flick of his hand. “You’re a demon, I sure you could have handled yourself.”

“But…!” Mammon crosses his arms and turns away like a grumpy child. “Hmph…”

“Do say hello to [Name] for me, will you?” Simeon requests as Solomon turns to open the door, ignoring the sulking demon sitting beside him. “We haven’t been able to talk for a while.”

“You text him every day, don’t you?” Solomon asks, shooting him an unimpressed look. “I’d say that’s conversation enough.”

“Now, now, there’s no need to be stingy,” Simeon countered with a smile, tilting his head slightly to the side and leaning forward. “Besides, one misses the presence of an actual person after a while of nothing but electronic communication... especially texting is so difficult. Tell him he’s always welcome to come around for some tea - Luke would be happy to see him.”

Solomon shakes his head, but makes a sound of affirmation nevertheless. You had mentioned that you’ve missed seeing Simeon since he’d started the whole negotiator businesss, and he isn’t the sort of person to deny you the company of a friend. “I’ll let him know. Anyway, I should really be going now…”

“Have a safe journey!” Simeon calls after him as he swings the door open and sweeps out. Solomon waves a hand over his shoulder in response, then disappears down the corridor, most likely to a quiet spot in the courtyard to use his charm. He’s been banned from using them indoors ever since he accidentally shattered one of the fancy artifacts in the assembly hall and sent hundreds of shards flying everywhere. Apparently Barbatos is still finding tiny pieces of glass in the crevices of the floor.

“Why didn’t Solomon ever say anythin’?” Mammon asks Simeon after a moment of quietude. “Seems like the sorta thing you’d mention.”

“Solomon’s a private man,” Simeon says with a shrug. “Besides, he and [Name] have made plenty of enemies over the years, and you’d be shocked by how quickly names and locations can spread…”

“Does he mind us knowin’ about it, then?”

“Well, personally, I’ve known for a while,” Simeon answers, “And I’m sure the others will have worked it out by now - Solomon’s always finding ways to mention [Name] in passing. But no, I’m sure he doesn’t mind. He’d say something if he did.”

Mammon nods and goes silent for a little while. Then he asks, “What’s this [Name] like, then? Must be some guy if Solomon liked him enough to put a ring on him and keep him for that long.”

“Well, let’s see…” Simeon drums his fingers thoughtfully against the tabletop. “He has quite the penchant for raising deadly plants, he hasn’t gone more than a full month without exploding something or another for about five centuries, he takes clocks apart in his spare time, he likes his coffee with a touch of vanilla, he collects cursed books, he makes a lovely butterscotch-cinnamon pie, and he works as a curse breaker for hire.”

It takes a moment for Mammon to process all of the information that’s just been dumped on him. “...sounds like the kinda guy Satan would get along with.”

“I thought so as well,” Simeon agrees. “Their house even reminds me of Satan’s room, in a way… [Name] is quite the avid reader.”

“What, you’ve been?”

“Only once,” Simeon’s eyes flutter closed for a moment as he reminisces. “Quite a long time ago now. I wouldn’t know where to find it even if I wanted to go again, though - it’s always moving.”

“Do they move house a lot, then?”

Simeon shakes his head. “Oh, no, no. They’ve lived in the same house for centuries - it’s the house that moves itself.”

Mammon pauses. “...what?”

“The building,” Simeon clarifies. “They’ve got an enchantment on the whole thing that makes it change locations every couple of weeks or so.”

“But… why?”

Simeon shrugs. “[Name] doesn’t like staying in one place for too long.”

“Still, isn’t that a bit much…?” Mammon pulls a face. “They could always just travel, ya know…”

“As Solomon said, transportation talismans make [Name] feel queasy,” Simeon explains. “And he prefers not to use teleportation spells when it comes to him, just in case they end up somewhere dangerous.”

“And he doesn’t care about the rest of us ending up somewhere dangerous?” Mammon huffs and collapses forwards onto the table.

“Well, you can’t really compare the two,” Simeon says patiently as the demon continues to mutter indignantly under his breath. “He’s his husband, and we’re essentially just his friends from work.”

Mammon opens his mouth to make a rebuttal, then thinks about it for a moment and changes his mind. After a moment, he comments, a little less resentfully, “Well, you’d think he’d at least introduce us.”

“He’s been planning to for a while, actually,” Simeon tells him. “Give him some time and he’ll probably bring it up on his own.”

Mammon nods. “He’d better!”

“I’m home.”

You look up from the book you’re reading and hop down from your seat on the roof just in time to see Solomon emerge from the back garden, looking noticeably dishevelled, with leaves decorating his head like some sort of fancy accessory.

“Welcome back!” You greet him happily, setting the book aside and moving forward to start picking the leaves from his hair. Solomon smiles softly at you as you take his bag in one hand and start pulling him to the front door with the other. “You forgot your talisman again, by the way.”

“I noticed,” He laughs, gently removing your hand from his upper arm and wrapping his fingers around it instead. “Why else do you think I ended up in the hedges again?”

“It’s a wonder that you’ve had to make these temporary talismans so many times and you still haven’t gotten one right yet,” You tease in reply, nudging him in the shoulder. “How many points is that on the tally now, then?”

“Ten for the basement, seven for the roof, and eleven for the hedges now,” He answers with a small pout as you laugh. “Honestly, you’d think I would have learnt my lesson...”

“You never do, love.”

The door creaks as you and your husband enter the house, only to immediately be greeted by a bundle of scales hitting you head-on. You manage to keep your footing and steady yourself on the doorway; Solomon isn’t so lucky, and ends up laying spread-eagled on the floor with about two hundred kilograms of excited adolescent dragon purring on his chest.

“Looks like Triton missed you,” You comment with a bright smile, setting Solomon’s bag down beside the umbrella rack and leaning over to give the dragon a scratch behind his left horn, just the way he likes it. He rumbles happily and jingles the little bell around his neck at you. “Isn’t he getting big?”

“I saw him this morning, [Name],” Solomon wheezes from his position on the floor, somehow managing to reach up and tickle Triton’s chin with one hand despite the dragon’s weight. “He can’t have grown that much in ten hours.”

“You never know!” You tell him, reaching up and wrapping your arms around Triton’s neck. He coos in a delighted fashion and raises his head, setting it heavily on your shoulder. Solomon uses the brief lightening of the weight on him to take in a deep breath as you allow your dragon to nuzzle furiously into your neck. “Dragons are unpredictable, you know.”

“Believe me, I do,” He sighs tiredly as Triton blows out a pleased puff of hot air and knocks the clock off the wall again. “Now, if you wouldn’t mind, Triton, I’d quite like to get back up again.”

The dragon blinks and raises his head from your shoulder, glancing down at the sorcerer that he’s crushing under his weight. Then he huffs and turns away again.

“Oh, you—!” Solomon curses as the dragon seems to press even harder into him. Your laughter rings out across the hall, and while he’d normally take a moment to admire the sound, he’s a little preoccupied. “[Name], stop laughing and help me!”

“He’s like a rebellious teenager!” You splutter helplessly in reply, voice still trembling slightly out of mirth. Triton makes a happy noise as you reach up and rub his scaly cheeks, his ears fluttering slightly. “Awww, you’re really growing up, aren’t you, baby? Your poor dads are really going to have their work cut out for them, huh?”

“Hey,” Solomon calls reproachfully from beneath Triton’s enormous chest. “Your husband’s still being crushed down here.”

“Oh, right!” You click your tongue and give Triton a meaningful look. He grumbles but obeys nevertheless, hopping off of Solomon (though not without knocking all the air out of him by using his chest as a launchpad) and scampering off, most likely to go play with the salamanders that have set up shop in the storage room again.

“I’ll never understand how you manage him so well,” Solomon sighs as you bend down to pull him to his feet, rubbing at the sore spot on his chest. “He never listens to me.”

“Aw, he loves you, really,” You reassure him, taking his hand and pressing a comforting kiss to his knuckles. “He just likes roughhousing with you.”

Solomon shakes his head, wanting to complain further about the big lizard that the two of you had adopted six months ago after the last one grew up and flew the nest, but then he sees the smile on your face, and he feels the flicker of irritation in his chest die down almost immediately. It’s at times like this that he’s really reminded of how absolutely worth it all of the nonsense he has to put up with at work is - because, at the end of the day, you are here, with your warm eyes and your lovely smile, with your comforting hands and your warm embrace, and there is no road too long to walk if you are waiting for him at the end of it.

“I know,” He sighs, tugging off his shoes and stepping into his favourite pair of slippers - the ones with the little cat faces printed on them that you’ve charmed to always maintain a perfect temperature for his feet. He glances at your own feet and notes that you’re wearing your matching pair as well.

The two of you have long since set up a routine for this sort of occasion, and you both fall into it with unconscious ease. Solomon changes into something more comfortable while you put the kettle on in the kitchen, and the two of you inevitably spend so long snuggled up together on the largest armchair in the living room, unwilling to leave the warmth of each other’s presence, that the water cools down, and you end up having to put it back on again. Then you sit together at the table, you with a coffee with a dash of vanilla and him with his favourite chrysanthemum tea that you always brew just the way he likes it. Sometimes you’ll sit side by side, shoulders pressed up against each other as you show him the specifics of your latest curse-breaking commission, and sometimes you’ll sit across from each other, holding hands across the tabletop as he tells you about his day.

Today it is the former, but Solomon can’t help but zone a little out of the detailed deep-dive you’re giving him about the intricacies of the spell that’s cursed this teapot to shoot its contents at anyone who attempts to fill it. It isn’t that your explanation is boring - quite the contrary, in fact; Solomon could probably listen to you describing the most mundane or trivial of things on loop for the rest of his life and be perfectly content with it. No, it’s more to do with the fact that this is the first time he’s been home before dark in a long while, and he can’t help but revel in the fact that he can spend time with you like this again. Of course, there’s something wonderful in coming home to be able to collapse into bed beside you and bury his face in the crook of your neck, drifting to sleep as you burrow closer to him even in your sleep, but Solomon can’t run off of that forever - he needs to see you with your eyes open as well, after all.

“You’re not listening to a word I say, are you?” You ask as you note the far-off look on your husband’s face. You’re not offended in the slightest by the way he starts at the directed question, evidently guilty, but you are a little puzzled. “Is there something wrong?”

Solomon’s mouth falls open slightly, then shuts again. There’s something about the way you’re looking at him so earnestly that makes his heart stutter like nothing else. Honestly, you’d think he’d be used to this after nearly two thousand years, but it seems that he’s still as weak for you as he was on the very first day of your marriage. “...I suppose I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”

“You always have a lot on your mind,” You counter softly, giving his hand a brief squeeze. “Come on, you can tell me.”

He laughs quietly, bringing your linked hands up to his face and gently holding yours to the side of his face; you, in turn, unfurl your fingers from around his and rub his cheek affectionately. After a moment, a fond smile pulling at his lips, Solomon replies, “I’ve… missed you a lot this week.”

You pause in mild surprise, but it quickly turns to endearment as Solomon presses his body even closer to yours. The hand that you’re using to hold your mug of coffee moves to settle on his shoulder as you pull him closer. “Really now? What a coincidence. I’ve missed you lots as well, love.”

He chuckles a little bashfully, his cheeks flushing. It seems that your ability to fluster him hasn’t declined even a bit over the years. He’s still well and truly besotted.

You can’t help but find it rather amusing that, despite already having spent a good hour and a half or so in the living room, bundled so close together in the blankets that you could feel his breath on your skin, the two of you are still nestling so close together now. You suppose it’s the effects of a week with much less contact than usual.

You lean forward and press a kiss to his jaw before pulling back again, reaching for your coffee and taking a sip. Solomon exhales softly, pulling his own drink towards him and draining the last of the tea in a single mouthful.

“You know,” He says, setting his empty cup down on the table. “One of my coworkers was asking about you earlier.”

“‘Coworkers’,” You snort at his choice of language, earning a reproachful poke in the side as punishment. “Come on, just admit that they’re your friends.”

“Fine,” He sighs. “One of my friends, then - Mammon, the one that Lucifer’s stringing up all the time.”

“The one with white hair?” You recall, thinking back to the group photo that Simeon had sent you a while back. “He’s the Avatar of Greed, right?”

“That’s the one,” Solomon nods. “Apparently he never noticed that I was married.”

“Well, you can’t really blame him,” You say, giving him a playful nudge. “Honestly, the way you keep your mouth shut, you’d think I was some shameful secret or something.”

Solomon looks scandalised by the very idea - it had only been a little joke, but his eyes flash with such affront that it’s almost as if someone has genuinely called you such a thing. “Of course not! I’d never—”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, I was joking,” You cut him off before he can get more riled up. Solomon calms down quickly once you set a comforting hand on his knee, though he still looks a little indignant. “I know why you don’t like talking about us much, but really, it’s okay. They’re your friends, aren't they?”

He hesitates, then nods, releasing another deep sigh soon afterwards. “I suppose. There isn’t much I can really do about it at this point anyway… according to Simeon, most of them have somehow figured it out already.”

“They’re probably a lot smarter than you give them credit for, Sol,” You hum, reaching up and brushing a stray lock of hair out of his eyes for him. “They’re demons, after all. They’ve lived even longer than us.”

“Believe me, they really aren’t.” Solomon shakes his head, a frown pinching at his brow at the very memory of the amount of things that his coworkers have done recently - some of the most notable being Diavolo setting an entire flock of geese free in the courtyard for an ‘experiment’, Levi quite literally throwing himself out of a window just to win a bet against Mammon about who could get down the stairs faster, Asmo causing a stampede in the main hall by dropping and shattering a bottle full of a powerful aphrodisiac potion that became even more powerful once released into the air, and Lucifer accidentally breaking one of Solomon’s favourite cauldrons when he’d transformed into his demon form and inadvertently smacked halfway across the room it with one of his upper wings.

“I’d really love to meet them some day,” You sigh, swirling the contents of your mug around. “They sound like fun.”

“Trust me, the trouble isn’t worth it—” Solomon attempts to reason with you, but he gives up laughably quickly as you pout at him in protest. “Oh, fine. But don’t blame me if you get sick because of the charm again.”

“We don’t have to use the charm,” You shake your head. “Just do a teleportation spell!”

“You know that that’s risky,” Solomon sighs, chucking you under the chin and leaning forward to kiss the tip of your nose. You laugh as he draws back again, a pleased smile rising on his face at your reaction. “We could end up anywhere.”

“You’ve teleported them a bunch of times, though, haven’t you? And you haven’t ended up in Texas or the Sahara Desert any of those times!”

The resemblance to his earlier conversation with Mammon and Simeon is almost uncanny. “That’s different. I was still teleporting them within the Devildom, not across an entire realm barrier… and besides, I can afford the risk with them. You’re a different story.”

You pout again, shoulders dropping in defeat, though it doesn’t escape Solomon’s notice that his sentiment seems to have appeased you at least a little. “...guess we’ll just have to use a transportation talisman, huh…?”

“That’s your only option if you really want to visit, yes.”

You go quiet for a moment or two, nose wrinkling and face scrunching as you think it over. Solomon doesn’t mind the lack of conversation - he entertains himself by studying your features, wondering for perhaps the millionth time how he managed to find someone like you.

Finally, a determined look rising on your face, you nod and proclaim, “Then I’ll do it!”

Solomon cocks his head slightly to the side. He can’t say he’s surprised by your eagerness, but he had expected it to take you longer to make up your mind. He opens his mouth to say something, but tou answer his question before he’s even asked it, a skill that you’d managed to pick up within the first year or so of knowing him.

“I really wanna see what you actually get up to when you work,” You explain, looking a little sheepish. “You’ve had a job there for nearly two years and I’ve never even said a word to the people you work with.”

Solomon laughs. “It isn’t usually a requirement in the workplace. Wear appropriate uniform, bring any equipment you need, introduce your husband to your coworkers within the decade…”

“Still, I’d feel bad if I didn’t at least meet them,” You say. “Besides, I want to see Simeon as well. You said he’s working down in the Devildom for a bit as well, didn’t you?”

“Why are you so eager to see him, huh?” Solomon’s tone is light and teasing, so you know not to take him seriously as he puts on an hurt expression. “I’m offended. Your dear husband’s right here and you’re thinking about some angel.”

“Oh, stop it, you,” You shake your head in slightly exasperated amusement as he runs a finger down his cheek in lieu of a tear. “You know it’s not like that.”

“Isn’t it?” He pulls an exaggeratedly petulant face and pretends to turn away like an upset child. “Sometimes I feel like you love him more than me.”

“Simeon’s a lovely guy, but you’re still the only guy for me, you doof,” You tell him, tapping fondly at the cheek he’s turned to you with your free hand. Solomon obligingly turns back around to look at you, a grin pulling at his mouth. “Why would I marry you and then stay here for two thousand years if you weren't?”

“I guess I always assumed it was out of pity or something,” He jokes in response, leaning forward and briefly brushing his nose against yours. “And, just so you know, you’re the only guy for me as well.”

“I’d better be,” is your lighthearted reply as he pulls away. After a moment, looking at him expectantly, you begin tentatively, “So…?”

He sighs, but gives you a smile nevertheless. “I’ll ask Diavolo. He probably wouldn’t mind if I brought you without asking first, but Lucifer definitely would.”

“What’ll we do if they hate me?” You ask. “Do demons actually eat humans?”

“They wouldn’t dare,” He replies firmly. “Not if I have anything to say about it. Besides, they won’t hate you. I doubt anyone could.”

You laugh and drop your head to rest on his chest. “You’re too nice to me, love.”

Solomon turns to wrap both his arms around your shoulders, setting his chin on the crown of your head. You smile into his jumper, looping your own arms around his waist and pushing yourself closer to him.

“I’m not just being nice. Honestly, [Name], you’re kind of the most perfect man in the universe.”

#obey me #obey me imagines #obey me x reader #swd solomon #swd mammon #swd simeon #solomon x reader #reader insert #male reader #fluff #domestic sorcerer husbands #planning on turning this into a series if i can haha

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angelicyoongie · 4 years

Text

desolate (14) - M

— summary: you just wanted a cute little normal cat to keep you company. so, you're not really sure how you ended up with the grumpiest hybrid on earth that seems hellbent on making your life difficult.

— pairing: cat hybrid yoongi x human reader

— genre: angst, fluff, smut

— word count: 7.4k — warnings: 🔞 this chapter contains smut; unprotected sex (don’t do that tho), fingering, knotting, etc.

— tag list: @mrcleanheichou @btstxtgenre @ladymidnightt @cheese123344 @xanny91 @dinorahrodriguez @best-space-boy @dulcaet @moccahobi @keijaycreates @staytrillswag @xsmilebitesx @serendipityoreuphoria @jiminot7 @beyond-the-swag @nananaum1 @mult1wh0re @faithsummers11 @twomilkmen-gocomedy @theonewholovestoread @karissassirak @veryuniquenamegoeshere @yourlipssoirresistible @ayoo-bangtan @murderyoursoul @btsxdoll @see3milyblog @gukiyi @mtgforall @narcissism-iskey @sp3ak-yours3lf @cesthoney @imluckybitches @hd-junglebook @sugarrimajins @multifandomgirl29 @beach-bitch-bitch-beach @bangtansleftnut @theresa-nam-nam-me @angeltothecore @ghostkat23 @deathkat657 @awixxx @httpmedxsa @veronawrites @bubbletae7 @serious-addiction @chogiyeol-utopia @nomimits7 @lorielulu7 @1am9root6 @sana-b @diamonddia-mond @jiminiessipabo @myhearttteu @rainbowmagicpixecorn @lidda @rosiethefairy @lovinggalaxies @midnight1199 @trinityautumn @linniewritesficz @fearhoshi @ess-place @juniesoftbot @kingalls00 @toribug2020 @daydreambrliever @moonlight-mochi @sleepyje0n @yoonie-bby @alltimeyoongi @honestlyfuriousharmony @itsoktheresbts @suzziequeuie @miss–insanity @illnevertrustmyselfagain @annoyingpessimist @lovelikeyouwant @originalpersonawobblerduck @cigarettes-after-tears @kookie-vuitton @thefangirlsoul @lmna990 @luvshorses08 @marvelstuck @kissmeimwitchy @crazyxforxmyself @hxsxxk-180294 @ratking101 @brittaney341 @shameless-army @yuukihime2097 @adoorinyourheart @heimdoodle @kissing-fear @toripeix @horanghae18 @redperson58 @awsome-small-k @salomea27 @johnnystolemywig @mihto @jisoosbitch @lyrxbz @forever-once-gone @sugalarity @out-of-jams @ithinkileftmycoatoutside @witchxlove @chocoflagcutii @alyboo-jpeg @ladyartemesia @tatiiz24 @boinko-boye @kaceyxmarie74 @fuckthatfeeling @makepastanotwar13 @airiguk @justliketheoceann @strawbewymiwk @skswriting @kofikats @rainbow-zebra-unicorns @mhmbrigitta @forever-yoongis @prybts @phatbussyincorporated @itsmethepancake @alterlovess @boredoomfm @furblrwurblr @moments-of-melancholy @barbikatherine @crookedstarlitnight @moonlightjoonx @ibsenova-nora @aphroditis-world @ramaali1 @inhalebts @gguksfilter @kerikaaria @paradise-writings @yoongisabby @childcorrectionfacility-school @eriiiichan @baka-chanismyname @sugaesthetichoe @junasaurusrex @fluffreader @justzeera @swoozleee @beansplz @aestaeticbts23 @slut-for-fandoms @joyful-jimin @phasephoenix @nanananisstuff

Part one Part two Part three Part four Part five Part six Part seven Part eight Part nine Part ten (M) Part eleven Part twelve Part thirteen

For the first time in weeks, you actually feel refreshed when you wake up. You let out a soft sigh against Yoongi’s sweater, the material soft and warm underneath your cheek. You let the sleepiness fade away bit by bit, enjoying the sunlight peeking into your apartment and the steady rhythm of Yoongi’s heartbeat thrumming against your ear. You would be content with staying here forever, in the quiet and peaceful morning all wrapped up in Yoongi, but the quiet rumbling in your stomach lets you know that you might have to change your plans.

Yoongi lets out a low grumble of displeasure the moment you try to slip away from him, his arms tightening around your waist to make sure you won’t leave. Yoongi buries his nose deeper into your hair, the rumble in his chest melting into a softer purr as he inhales your scent. Your heart does a little flip at the action, a grin tugging at your lips as you press a quick peck to Yoongi’s chest. It takes a few minutes, but you eventually manage to wiggle out of Yoongi’s hold, careful not to wake him.

You wince as you open the door to the fridge, the barren inside mocking you. There are still a few days until you get paid, but hopefully this will last you until then. You decide that some scrambled eggs and toast will have to do - and you make quick work of getting everything ready. You’re leaning against the counter, watching mindlessly as the eggs start to cook and fluff up. You can’t believe you even entertained the idea of adopting Yoongi last night. You grimace, eyes gliding over to the stack of bills on the other side of the counter. You can’t even pay for your current living expenses, how the hell are you supposed to take care of Yoongi too?

You stir the eggs with a little more force than necessary, eyebrows pinched tightly as you try to run through all the possible options you have. Yoongi needs an owner – it’s the law. Even if he wanted to apply to become a free one, he would still need to be owned during the process. And if you won’t adopt him, he’ll be forced to find someone else. He’ll likely be brought to a shelter whether he wants to or not, and you have a feeling that the next person that adopts him won’t exactly see him as an equal in the same way that you do. If Yoongi leaves, there’s no guarantee you’ll even be able to ever see him again. It won’t be up to him, it’ll be something for his new owner to decide. And you don’t want that. You don’t want Yoongi to go back to the same situation he just escaped from. But what choice you do have? Especially now that your current job is hanging on by a thin thread.

You’ll just have to pick up two jobs, maybe even three if you can make the shifts match up. You managed to survive on five hours of sleep a day back in university during your exams, so it can’t be that hard to do it again, right? Sure it will probably be exhausting, but you’ll deal with it if it means that Yoongi can stay.

“What’s wrong?” You nearly jump out of your skin as Yoongi’s breath fans across your ear, his chest flush to your back as he wraps his arms around your waist. You had forgotten just how quiet Yoongi could be, truly living up to his cat genetics. You hesitate, unsure if it’s worth sharing your troubles with Yoongi if it’s only going to make him feel bad. You don’t doubt he’ll tell you it’s okay and find someone else if he thinks it’s too much for you to manage.

“Tell me, kitten. I could smell your anxiety from the living room,” Yoongi’s voice is ladled with sleep, the slight rasp making your legs feel weak. The soft fur of Yoongi’s ear brushes against your chin when you hesitantly bite down on your lip, his enhanced hearing picking up even the smallest of sounds.

“Yoongi, are you sure you don’t want to be a free hybrid?” You feel his arms stiffen, his fingers digging into the material of your – his – hoodie. “I just want to make sure that you’re making the right choice. Not to say that you can’t become one later! I just .. don’t want you to do something you’ll regret.”

“I don’t really have the necessary funds to help you with the process, and it might take a while for me to save up if that’s what you want. I know Mr. Yang had some options for you that might be better if you want that in the near future,” You mumble. If Yoongi relies on you to become a free hybrid, it will probably take you closer to ten years to save up what he needs with the meagre paycheck you have now. That is, if you even get to keep your job for that long.

“Y/n,” Yoongi turns his head, lips meeting your throat in a chaste kiss. “I’ll tell you this as many times as you need to hear it, but I really don’t want to become one. I have more protection, more rights, as an adopted hybrid than I would ever have as a free one. It doesn’t matter what the government tries to portray it as – it isn’t true,” He lets out a low hiss.

“I just want some stability, someone I can call home. And I really want that to be you,” Yoongi murmurs.

“I want that too,” You rest a hand on top of Yoongi’s, tilting your head to lean against his. You want it so, so bad. “It’s just –“

“The bills?” Yoongi continues. You give him a weak noise of confirmation, gaze unwillingly straying over to the pile of all of your problems.

“Don’t worry about it, kitten. It’s my turn to take care of you now after everything you’ve done for me.”

You suck in a surprised breath, quickly turning around in Yoongi’s hold to properly look at him. “What do you mean, ‘take care of me’?” You ask carefully, eyebrows pinched with confusion as Yoongi’s lips curl into a blinding smile.

“Exactly what I said,” Yoongi tugs you closer, your hands falling to rest on his chest to keep your balance. Yoongi’s tail brushes across your calves, trailing up your legs until it settles around your waist, gently curling around it just above where Yoongi’s hands are resting on your hips.

“Apparently when that fucker was fined a hundred thousand dollars, it was a hundred thousand to each of his victims,” Yoongi’s lips curl with displeasure as he utters the last word. “He had made so much money on trading us that it wasn’t even an issue for him to pay up right away. He’s probably going to try to reduce his sentence by being good and paying everything he’s required to.” He lets out a humourless snort, the tail around your waist giving you an involuntary squeeze at his flaring anger.

“He’s not going to get out Yoongi. Even if they do reduce it by some years, it’s not going to be enough for him to actually get released,” You say, gently moving a hand up to cup Yoongi’s face. The cat hybrid leans into your touch the moment your skin makes contact with his, eyelids fluttering closed as you run your thumb across his cheek. There’s no way Mr. Park is ever going to get released, and even if he against all odds should, you’re going to make sure you’ll put him right back where he belongs. You mull over Yoongi’s words as he rubs his cheek against your palm, one word jumping out at you.

Us.

“Yoongi, when you said us, do you mean your .. siblings?” You watch as Yoongi’s face stiffens, the fingers on your hips digging in a little deeper, before he breathes out a low “Yes.”

You can’t even imagine how hard it much be to know that you have family out there, but having no idea where they are or how many. Considering there even was a list, and Mr. Park had been running his breeding business for years before he got caught, you don’t doubt that it has to be long.

“Do you want to find them?” You ask carefully. It must be hard, painful even, for Yoongi to know that he’s not alone; that he has siblings out there who knows what he’s been through, and likely has been in the same terrible situation as he has, or maybe even worse – but that’s also why you’re not really all that shocked when Yoongi’s eyes flutters open, his gaze firm as he takes a deep breath and then, “No. I have all the family I need right here.”

And that’s more than fine. You can’t blame him for not wanting to relive his old life through every sibling he would meet. He doesn’t deserve it. What Yoongi needs, is to move on and put it all behind him, and you’re more than willing to help him do just that.

“Okay,” You nod, stomach fluttering at Yoongi’s words. Aside from Jihyo and Sana, Yoongi is the only family you really have. You don’t see yours too often, maybe once a year, and it’s always tense, always filled with You should’ve studied this or You’re still living there? and that’s not what family should be. It’s not what Yoongi is.

“You got me side-tracked kitten,” Yoongi grumbles, nipping playfully after your hand as you slide it down to rest on his shoulder. “What I meant to say was, I have money now. For once, let me take care of you and pay you back for everything you’ve done for me these past months,” Yoongi looks down at you earnestly, hopefully, and it just makes you heart bloom even more.

“I want you to use the money to find a new place for us to live, somewhere that’s a little safer,” He takes a step closer, pulling your chest flush against his as he ducks his head down to look at you. “I’ve got no use for the money on my own, I can’t even use it without an owner–“ Yoongi pouts, his eyes sparkling as he can see your resolve begin to crumble in front of his eyes, “– so if you’re really that apprehensive about it, just think of it as doing me a favour.”

It sounds tempting. You do want to adopt Yoongi and you do want to move you both somewhere nicer, but there’s still something gnawing at your conscience.

“If I adopt you –“ The tip of Yoongi’s tail flicks excitedly along your stomach at your words, “then you have to promise me that you’ll keep your money for yourself. You can pay half, and I’ll pay half. I’m not going to exploit you.”

“Okay, deal,” Yoongi doesn’t miss a beat as he closes the last distance between the two of you, his plush lips finding yours easily. You bring your hands up around his neck, carding your fingers through the soft hairs at the nape of his neck. It’s getting long again, and now would probably be a good time to finally take Yoongi to a proper hairdresser to get it cut. A loud purr rumbles from Yoongi’s chest as you intertwine your hands in his hair, the sound echoing in your little kitchen. You pull back, letting out an enamoured laugh as you see the faint flush in Yoongi’s cheeks.

Yoongi’s eyes narrow at your amusement, his mouth opening to shoot back a retort when he stops to wrinkle his nose, head tilting to the side to look at something over your shoulder. His tail quickly detaches from your waist as he lets out a snort, and says, “I think the eggs are burning.”

“Shit!”

Your eyes shift warily around the office as you make your way inside, the cold weather still lingering in your bones as you quickly shuffle over to your desk. Jihyo doesn’t even spare you a glance as you sit down, her mouth slightly agape as her eyes stay glued to the screen in front of her.

You sweep your gaze across the office as you remove your coat, surprised to find that most of your co-workers seem to either be doing the same thing as Jihyo, or whispering quietly amongst themselves.

“Jihyo? What’s going on?” You murmur as you take your seat. Jihyo shakes her head as she mouths out email, her gaze still locked on to her computer. You frown as you quickly boot up your own, a sudden sense of urgency making you desperate to get into the system.

You tap your fingers impatiently against your desk as the computer logs you in, your hands flying across the keyboard to open up your mail. You bring up the email that says ‘URGENT’, eyes flying across the screen as you skim through it. You can feel your own mouth falling open in shock as you reach the bottom, a wave of relief hitting you so hard you might actually cry if you don’t pull yourself together.

“Jihyo?” You breathe, and Jihyo finally meets your eyes, her surprise mirroring yours.

“I can’t believe he got fired!” She hisses, and you can’t do much more than shake your head in disbelief. You can’t believe it either. All the anxiety and worries you’ve had for your future that suddenly seemed so bleak is .. gone, just like that.

The email doesn’t say how your boss got exposed for sabotaging cases, just that he got found out, and that resulted in immediate termination. Not only that – but apparently the higher ups in the company has decided to merge with another firm that specializes in the same field; expanding the company and making it so that there won’t be one boss to oversee everything, but rather new team leaders and smaller groups working together.

You suppose the thought behind it is that it’ll make it easier to see if anyone is trying to exploit their positions or somehow foil their cases. Perhaps the thing that stood out the most was the fact that anyone who has worked at either of the two companies for three years or more can apply to the new positions, and you’re qualified to do that.

Jihyo seems to be following your train of thought, because she lets out a low giggle, her eyes sparkling as she says, “You’re going to be such a good team leader.”

“Jihyo!” You scold, “You don’t even know if I’ll get it. There are lots of people who as just as qualified as me.” But you can’t help but hope. Getting a promotion would solve so much, and it would make both yours and Yoongi’s life so much easier.

“Maybe, but I don’t think anyone is going to try as hard as you,” Jihyo gives you once over, her eyebrow quirking as she sees the small tug at your lip, a faint smile you haven’t been able to wipe off ever since you fell asleep yesterday.

“I take it that you worked things out with Yoongi?” She grins. Her smile seems to grow impossibly wider at your embarrassed nod, and she lets out an extravagant sigh, hands clutches to her chest as she says, “Ah your poor competition, they definitely don’t stand a chance now.”

“I’ll go get the last one,” Yoongi says, his tail brushing against the back of your hand as he walks past you. You huff in agreement, in box in your arms feeling like it’s going to tear them clean off as you quickly shuffle into the living room. You drop it onto the nearby table with a groan, rolling your shoulders to get the ache out of them as you step back.

Your new living room is littered with boxes, everything from your old apartment crammed into one room. You’ve brought no furniture along aside from your old coffee table, the other pieces so old and worn you and Yoongi both decided it was time to invest in something new. Your new couch and bed thankfully arrived the day before, so everything was ready to move into as soon as you brought all of your belongs over to the new house.

These past months still feel so surreal. You got that promotion you fought tooth and nail for, making both your hours and your pay much better. You even have the option to work from home a few days a week now, and that’s something you’ve been taking advantage of as much as possible. Your promotion also meant that you could finally find a new place to live now that you could split the cost fifty-fifty with Yoongi. It was the cat hybrid that had showed you the listing for a quaint little house on the outskirts of the city, and you knew right away that this was the right place for the both of you. The house is everything you’ve ever dreamed of. It’s not anything grand, but it’s more than enough for you and Yoongi, a pretty little home with a garden you just know will bloom beautifully once spring rolls around.

The large windows in the living room gives the house so much light, and you feel like you can finally breathe properly for the first time in months. Especially after being confined in your little shoebox apartment for years. It was a good home, but you had outgrown it long ago – long before you even met Yoongi.

Not to mention, you officially adopted Yoongi a few weeks after he came back, not wanting to drag out the inevitable even longer. It was weird–and it still is–signing the papers that meant you now had complete and utter ownership of another person, of Yoongi, but despite all that, you know deep down that it’s for the best. That Yoongi finally has the protection and safety he craves, and if he ever wants to become free, or leave, it’s never something you’ll use against him. The papers are nothing more than a formality to keep Yoongi safe, and that’s what you cling to whenever you wonder if you’ve done the right thing or not.

One thing you don’t think you can ever get used to though, is the stares. It’s been a little over three months since the trials, but people don’t seem to have forgotten about Yoongi just yet. You suppose it’s not that weird considering it isn’t often hybrids are represented on TV, but still, it keeps catching you off guard. It doesn’t matter if people look at him with interest or thinly veiled disgust, you can’t help but feel defensive when you catch people staring. So you don’t even think twice anymore before you switch places with Yoongi as you walk, or tug him along to another area in the supermarket under the guise that you saw something new you want to try. You’re pretty sure Yoongi has caught on long ago to what you have been doing, but he never complains about it – just follows along with a smile and a squeeze to your hand, and so you take it as permission to continue.

“Last one,” Yoongi grumbles as he brushes past you, the tight-fitting sweater leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. You watch, transfixed, as his biceps strain under the weight of the box he’s carrying, the sight making your mouth run dry.

“That’s great,” You feel your cheeks flush at how affected you sound. Not only has Yoongi finally gained back all the weight he was missing, but he has also been working out, a lot. While you might not have initially pegged Yoongi as someone who enjoys heavy exercise, you’re not all that surprised that it’s a hobby he’s grown fond of either. You know it’s something many hybrids enjoy, because for a lot of them, it’s the only thing that yields any results. And so, hybrid friendly gyms aren’t only a place for them to exercise, but to make friends too. You’re sure his heightened interest has more to do about the people he trains with more than the actual training itself, but it makes him happy, and that’s all that matters. And it’s not like you mind seeing Yoongi growing buffer either, but that’s sort of the issue. Because if you thought it was hard keeping your hands off him before, it’s almost torture now.

Yoongi’s head whips around at the breathless tilt to your voice as he puts the box down, the concern in his gaze transforming into something darker as he realizes why you seem so flushed.

“See something you like?” Yoongi teases, his biceps bulging against his sweater as he crosses his arms over his chest.

Rude.

“That’s not– I’m just tired,” You awkwardly clear your throat as you shift you gaze elsewhere, anywhere, that doesn’t put you in danger of making yourself drool.

“I’m sure you are, kitten,” Yoongi hums. You can feel his dark gaze burning into your face as he steps closer, but you refuse to meet it, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of watching you squirm. Yoongi doesn’t stop until he’s directly in front of you, a puff of air fanning across your cheek as he leans in closer. Soft fur brushes against your exposed ankles, the feeling so unexpected it makes your breath hitch. But Yoongi doesn’t comment on it, only presses a soft kiss to your cheek and murmurs, “You did well today. Go get washed up and I’ll start putting things away.” And then he leaves, the soft echo of footsteps making their way to the kitchen making you snap out of your daze.

The thing is, you haven’t been .. intimate with Yoongi ever since his rut. It wasn’t that either of you regret it, because you sure don’t, and Yoongi has made it very clear that he doesn’t; but you both agreed that you went about it a little backwards. So you both decided to take things slow. To do things right this time. It’s not like you don’t touch – because you very much do. You get all the hand holding, hugs, cuddles and gentle kisses you want, but Yoongi always pulls away before things can escalate into something more. And well, you always feel a little wave of relief go through your system every time he does.

You think you both might actually be a little nervous to take it any further. I do want to, but, you’re scared. Scared that Yoongi might not want you in the same way that he did during his rut. You know ruts are only supposed to amplify the needs and desires that are already there, but what if that goes for Yoongi’s enjoyment too? What if you’re not enough without his rut heightening his emotions? You know it’s silly – stupid – to think so, and that Yoongi keeps proving those thoughts wrong all the time, but still, just because you know some things are silly doesn’t mean it’s easy to let go of them.

You’re not sure why Yoongi keeps backing off, but maybe he’s worried about the same thing? Must be. You sigh, running your fingers through your tangled locks as you decide to take Yoongi up on his offer. You do really need a little pick-me up, and taking a shower sounds divine. As you make your way over to your bathroom, you can’t help the smile that graces your lips as you listen to Yoongi shuffling around in the kitchen. You know you’ll have to face those silly fears sooner rather than later, but for now, you’re happy to just push those feelings down and pretend they don’t exist.

But as always, things never turn out the way you want them to.

“Yoongi,” You pant as teeth nip against your collarbones, a rough tongue swiping over the marks to soothe the sting. You swear you have no idea how you ended up here. One second you were just relaxing on your new couch next to Yoongi after a long day of moving, and the next you’re caged in underneath his body, experiencing the most action you’ve had in months. You’re already breathing hard just from the intense make-out session you had, your lips bruised and raw from all of Yoongi’s nibbling and biting.

“What kitten?” Yoongi purrs against your neck, his fluffy ears twitching back and fourth to make sure he doesn’t miss any sound you make. The vibration against your throat makes you choke, your hands flying up to tangle into Yoongi’s soft locks.

“Are you sure about this? I don’t want to r-rush if you’re not ready,” You stutter halfway through as Yoongi licks a long stripe up your neck, his sharp teeth grazing the shell of your ear. There’s a confused huff of air, Yoongi reluctantly pulling back from your neck to properly look at you.

“Why wouldn’t I be ready?” Yoongi asks.

“Because you kept stopping whenever things started uh, heating up?” You wince at your poor word choice, Yoongi cocking his head to the side as he watches you carefully.

“I did that because of you, Y/n. You were practically choking my senses with how nervous you were – I was trying to take things slow and not make you uncomfortable.”

Oh.

“So I think I should be asking you if you’re okay, kitten, not the other way around. We can stop now if you want to,” Yoongi leans down to press a quick peck against your nose, the gentle smile on his face making your heart skip a beat.

“I’m nervous,” You admit. “The last time we did this was during your rut, and that was multiple supressed ruts combined into one, and so I’m just scared that you won’t enjoy it as much now that it’s just .. me,” You mumble, diverting your gaze to Yoongi’s shoulder.

Yoongi lets out a low growl, his tail winding around your knee as he leans in closer, forcing you eyes back onto his face as he says, “When will you learn to stop assuming things, kitten?”

“My rut doesn’t dictate anything, Y/n. What I feel during it and after it stays the same. Ruts just makes me horny for a longer period of time,” He grins at the faint flush in your cheeks, tail slowly parting your legs until he can situate himself in between them. “This–” Yoongi rolls his hips, ears perking up at the breathy sound you make as the hardness between his legs brushes against your core, “–is all you. Want you so bad, kitten. Rut or no rut.”

The slight desperation in his voice combined with the feeling of Yoongi pressed up against you, is just what you need to throw your worries out the window. There’s no need in denying yourself something you’ve wanted for so long when Yoongi obviously feels the same way that you do.

“Me too, want you too,” You rush out, eager to have Yoongi’s lips back on yours. You pull him down, fingers still tangled in his hair as he meets you halfway. It’s doesn’t take long before Yoongi deepens it, lips moving hungrily against yours as you anchor yourself in the locks between your fingers, the slight tugging only spurring Yoongi on even more.

You whine as Yoongi runs his tongue along your lips, your mouth parting automatically to let him in. Yoongi shifts his weight, the motion freeing up one of his arms. Yoongi slowly trails his hand down your chest; the unhurried touch such a juxtaposition to the feverish movement of his lips that it makes your body tremble. Yoongi lets his hand rest on your stomach for a moment, the warmth of his hand burning through the material of your shirt.

“Yoongi,” You whimper when it doesn’t seem like he’s planning on moving his hand any lower, your core clenching around nothing with how desperate you are to get his fingers where you need them.

Yoongi pulls back with a low chuckle; the sound quickly bordering on a growl the moment he sees your spit slicked and bruised lips. “Bed first,” Yoongi pants, the hunger in his eyes setting your body on fire.

Yoongi’s lips are back on yours as soon as you get up front the couch; slender hands holding your face steady as he starts backing you out of the room. You fist your hands into fabric of his sweater, tugging impatiently as Yoongi bites down on your lower lip, the low vibration from his chest a clear warning of have patience, but you’re far too needy to care. You let out a surprised squeak as the room suddenly tilts, your knees buckling against the side of the bed.

You scramble to pull yourself up further, your hungry eyes drinking in the smooth paleness of Yoongi’s body as he quickly rids himself of his sweater. You choke back a moan as he steps out his jeans, the newly defined muscles in Yoongi’s thighs making your mouth water as he crawls up the bed. You make quick work of your own clothes, Yoongi’s eyes nothing short of predatory as his gaze trails all over your exposed skin.

“You’re so pretty, kitten,” Yoongi purrs as he nudges you down, resuming the same position he had on the couch as he cages you back in. You’re both still in your underwear, Yoongi’s length straining against the material as he places his hand back on your stomach. You slide your hands up Yoongi’s shoulders until you can twist your fingers into his soft hair again, and this time Yoongi doesn’t need any prompting before his fingers slide further down your stomach, fingers hooking into the side of your underwear as he beings to peel it down.

The damp patch on your underwear only serves as evidence of how soaking wet you are already, and Yoongi’s eyes seem to grow darker, wilder, as he realizes just how ready for him you are. Yoongi surges down to capture your lips, his harsh breaths intertwining with yours as his fingers find their way back to your core. Yoongi swallows down the gasp that leaves your lips as his fingers drag between your folds, the slow friction bordering on torturous before his thumb starts doing lazy circles around your bud, your hips buckling up for more pressure.

“Don’t be impatient kitten,” Yoongi clicks his tongue, but the smugness on his face is wiped away by a sudden groan as he removes his touch from you completely, expression almost pained as he sees how his fingers are glistening with your juices. “Fuck, you’re so wet,” He growls. You can’t help the embarrassingly loud moan that escapes your lips as Yoongi starts lapping up the wetness on his fingers, his tail shuddering being his back. If you weren’t aching for Yoongi to sink into you, you probably could’ve orgasmed just from watching him. “Taste so sweet too,” Yoongi rasps.

He watches you through hooded lids as he brings his fingers back down to your core, the first finger barely even stretching your walls from how turned on you are. Finally having some friction against your walls is delicious, but one finger isn’t enough to sate the hunger burning in your belly. Yoongi adds another before you can even ask, the feeling making you mewl as you harshly tug Yoongi down for another kiss. Yoongi adds a third once you give him the clear, his fingers hitting you just right every time he pushes them back inside. You have long since abandoned Yoongi’s hair for the opportunity to explore his body, and the lean muscles seem to jump out against your fingers as you drag them from his chest to his stomach, and back up again to settle on his shoulders. You’re not sure when your bra disappeared, but thank god it did, because Yoongi’s soft lips wrapped around your nipple is enough to make your back arch, the dual stimulation almost too much.

“Need you Yoongi, please,” You beg, one hand quickly releasing his shoulder to reach down between your bodies. You let your fingers slip beneath the waistband of his underwear, Yoongi letting out a choked moan as you wrap your hand around his length. You only get to slide your hand up and down in a few quick pumps before Yoongi grabs your wrist, pulling your hand away as he rids himself of his boxers.

“I won’t last if you do that, kitten,” Yoongi grumbles, seemingly just as on edge as you are. You whine at the loss of his fingers moving inside of you, but the sigh of Yoongi’s cock straining against his stomach is enough to distract you momentarily.

“See something you like?” Yoongi echoes his words from earlier, the smirk of his face widening into a full grin as you can’t do much else but nod, your mind not having room for any thoughts except for the need to have him inside of you.

“Please,” You whimper. Yoongi grab your legs, wrapping them around his waist before he places a hand on your waist, the other guiding his cock to your folds. He keeps his eyes trained on your face for any discomfort as he begins pushing inside, the slight burn making you moan. You squeeze your legs to make sure he doesn’t stop moving, Yoongi filling you up so well you can barely think. Once he bottoms out, hips flushed against yours, he gives you a moment to adjust – and to collect himself – your walls are taking him so well that he won’t be able to last if he doesn’t try to calm down first.

“Shit,” Yoongi hisses as he draws his hips back, your tight heat around his cock making him see stars after practically blueballing himself for months. He wraps his other hand around your waist as well, giving your sides a squeeze before he slams himself back inside, setting a bruising pace straight from the start.

“Fuck, Y-Yoongi,” You moan as he shifts his hips, the next thrust hitting your sweet spot straight on.

“You were made for me kitten, you take me so well,” Yoongi’s head drops against your shoulder, a growl leaving his lips as your pussy seem to squeeze him even tighter, the added friction only spurring on the both of you even more. You don’t know whether to arch away or press closer as Yoongi begins nipping at your skin, the pressure not enough to break skin, but enough to sting deliciously every time he finds another spot to bite down on.

You cross your ankles behind Yoongi’s back, moving your hips up to meet his every time he fucks back into your heat. The pace is nearly too fast to keep up with, but Yoongi lets out a appreciate moan every time you do. You’re slightly more prepared for the stretch of his knot this time, Yoongi mumbling praises against your skin as you roll your hips against him, desperate to feel him expand inside of you.

You know you’re close, your whole body wound up so tight you feel like you’re going to snap in two. But there’s something else you want before that happens.

“Yoongi,” You bring a hand into his hair, a displeased grumble leaving his lips as you force him to pull back from your neck. “Yoongi –” You repeat, glassy eyes meeting his as he continues to fuck into you at a rapid pace, “– please mark me.”

Yoongi’s eyes grow wide, his hips stuttering to a stop as he stares down at you. “Do you mean that Y/n? You know there’s no going back from it,” Yoongi cups your cheek, the absolute adoration on his face making your heart sing. This isn’t the first time you’ve talked about it of course, you’ve had multiple conversations about it before. So you know it has to be done while Yoongi knots you, and well, you are as ready as you’ll ever be. You want to be Yoongi’s in any way that you can.

“Please mark me,” You repeat, watching as the giddy look on Yoongi’s face grows a little darker again, a possessive glint flashing in his eyes as he looks down at you. “Want you be yours – only yours.”

You only have time to suck in a breath before Yoongi’s hips pull back, his thrusts so powerful they begin to inch you up the bed as he slams back in. You still have one hand tangling in Yoongi’s hair, the other balled into the sheets, trying your best to stay in place and meet his movements. Your whole body shudders when Yoongi’s tail suddenly wraps around your waist, the soft appendage offering an extra hold on your body.

“Close, ‘m so f-fucking close,” You moan as you can feel Yoongi’s knot growing bigger, every thrust making it harder and harder to pull out. Yoongi shoves his face into the junction between your neck and shoulder, his rough tongue laving across your salty skin. It’s too much, and the moment Yoongi’s knot finally swells and locks up inside you, your orgasm hits you like a brick, your vision turning white.

Yoongi hisses as your walls clamp down on him, the added pressure the last thing he needs before his cock throbs, sharp teeth sinking into your neck as he paints your walls white. The bite is painful, but the hot liquid spilling inside of you makes you feel so good–so full–that your mind can’t make up whether it wants to focus on the pain or the pleasure.

You let out a pained whimper as Yoongi finally pulls off your neck, his tongue running over the marks to soothe the sting. “You did so well, kitten,” Yoongi murmurs against your skin, the loud purrs from his chest almost overpowering his voice when he says, “I love you so much.”

The words are barely out of his mouth before he freezes up against you, his purrs cutting off so quickly it would almost be comical if it didn’t feel like your own heart was about to burst. You can tell by how tense his body is that he would’ve fled the room already if it wasn’t for his knot keeping you together. Despite everything, this is the first time any of you have actually said it out loud. You almost slipped up a few times, but you were supposed to take things slow, so you made sure to correct yourself before you could. But now ..

“I love you too,” You whisper, Yoongi’s ears twitching against your jaw as he listens intently to your words. But Yoongi doesn’t move. At all. You use the hand in his hair to gently tug him up, your other hand moving to cup his face as he finally meets your gaze.

“What’s wrong?” You murmur. You can’t help but feel a flash of fear that Yoongi didn’t mean it, that he somehow slipped up and said something he wasn’t ready to share yet.

“I love you,” He repeats, the words seemingly rolling a little weird off his tongue, like he’s testing it out. But you see the corners of his mouth twitch, his smile only widening as he starts repeating those three words over and over. You can’t help but smile along with him, the little doubt you had melting away as Yoongi’s confessions make themselves at home inside your heart. He must sense your confusion at his initial reaction though, because he quietly adds a, “I’ve never said that to anyone before.”

You blink, your voice getting caught in your throat as you swallow thickly. It’s simultaneously the sweetest and most heart-breaking thing you’ve ever heard in your life. But you won’t cry, not when Yoongi looks so happy. Happy to have found someone he finally loves, happy to have found you. So you just let out an “I love you too, so much”, your voice thick with emotion and unsaid words you wish you knew how to phrase.

Yoongi only grins wider as you bring his face closer, peppering kisses to any part you can reach. There’s just something so fond in the way those dark eyes looks at you, like you’ve hung the stars and the moon personally for him and he can’t quite believe it. But, you feel like you’re staring back at your own personal ball of sunshine – someone who makes you feel so warm and loved that you’re sure you must be dreaming. So, you think, maybe it’s only fair that you found each other. That you get to create your own little universe with each other.

“Does it still hurt?” Yoongi brushes a careful finger across the mark on your neck, his eyes swirling with emotion as he takes in the very visible claim he’s been wanting to give you ever since you brought him home.

“Not really,” You say. It’s just a dull ache, nothing you can’t handle.

“Suits you,” Yoongi grins deviously, the smile making your stomach flip excitedly. He dips down again, nose brushing along your collarbone before he presses a chaste kiss to the mark. “All mine,” He murmurs.

And maybe you like the sound of that a little too much, the heat in your belly flaring back up as you involuntarily squeeze around Yoongi’s length that’s still buried deep inside of you. Yoongi lets out a sound that sounds like a mixture of a snort and a hiss, his voice a little rougher as he says, “Do you like the sound of that, kitten?”

“Yeah,” You say, “as long as you’re all mine too.”

“Ah–“ Yoongi’s hips twitch, his eyes nearly black with how much love and hunger and wonder he has for you, as he brushes his lips against yours, gentle fingers resting against the claim on your neck. “I’m all yours kitten. Forever. For as long as you want me.”

You decide that forever sounds just about right.

“I’m home!” You call out as you close the door behind you, a soft gush of warm spring air following you inside. You quickly shrug off your coat and shoes, padding your way into the living room when you don’t get a reply. You’re about to call out for Yoongi again when you find him, all curled up on the large windowsill.

You keep your footsteps light as you approach him, not wanting to wake him up from his slumber. He’s as pretty as always, dark fur glistening in the sunlight that’s spilling in through the windows, his bushy tail hiding his face from view. His ears twitch as you step on a squeaky floorboard, and you hold your breath as his head moves, a pair of golden eyes sleepily peeking up at you.

“Hi baby,” You coo, quickly closing the rest of the distance between you to crouch down in front of him, your fingers gently scratching below his chin as he flops his head into your hand.

“Did you have a good nap?” You get your answer in how Yoongi nudges his head against your hand, the action both a confirmation and a demand for more pets. You let out an airy laugh, leaning down to press a soft kiss against the top his head. The loud purrs start up immediately, the vibrations so intense you’re scared he might fall off the sill if he keeps them up.

“I love you too,” You smile, running your fingers over his smooth fur a few times before you rise to your feet. “Take another nap, I’ll come get you once dinner is ready.” Yoongi blinks up at you slowly, your body filling with warmth at how he still manages to look at you so lovingly even as a cat. You wait until Yoongi lies back down, his tail brushing over his face again to block out most of the sunlight.

You take a moment to breathe, your eyes trailing slowly over the blooming garden outside your window, and Yoongi resting peacefully in front of it. You just feel so happy, so at ease, like you could burst with how much love that seems to be coursing through your veins.

You throw Yoongi another glance, the stuttering purrs bringing a soft smile to your face as you inhale deeply, the familiar scents of home bringing a sense of peace over you that you never even knew existed before you met Yoongi.

Maybe forever won’t be long enough. Maybe, you think, you should settle for eternity instead.

- - - -

Thank you all so much for your lovely comments and support, it means so much to me that so many of you have been enjoying Yoongi's story! It feels very bittersweet to be wrapping desolate up, this was the first hybrid story I ever wrote and so it will always hold a special place in my heart. But, I do hope you'll stick around for Abundance and the other stories I will be posting from now on. There's lots more hybrid content coming your way!

Our sweet kitty finally got his happy ending, and I hope Yoongi's luck will rub on to you too if you're struggling with anything right now. Nothing is constant and all bad things will eventually come to an end. :)

If you enjoyed desolate and maybe want to buy me a coffee, you can do so here! 💖 Love you all, stay safe! <3

#hybrid!bts #hybrid bts #cat hybrid yoongi #yoongi x reader #bts x reader #hybrid au #bts smut #bts x you #bts fluff #hybridbtsnetwork

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celestialgaea · 3 years

Note

write a fic(nsfw or sfw its up to you) with Ezio and a teenage girl who fell in love with him(i’d want it nsfw if you’re fine with it)

I'd love to do that! It has been quite some time since I wrote a request, so i’m so excited! Enjoy :)

Pairings: Brotherhood!Ezio Auditore x Reader

Warnings: Mature content, smut, age gap

Disclaimer: Ezio is at the age of 45 at the beginning of the Brotherhood serie as the reader will be the age of 19, so if you are uncomfortable with age gaps then i’d advice you to scroll further. It is not wrong to have feelings for an older man, however, it is wrong if an older person would use it to manipulate you and hurt you intentionally. This was written for the mere entertainment of the AC fandom!

A/N: I am so sorry for letting the requester wait for weeks! I hate to keep people waiting, I swear. But I have been able to finish this piece and I'm so happy! Let it enjoy you, loves

Along the horizon a blemish of darkness formed and began to spread itself along the, what seemed, infinite edges of the earth. The orange sky set her intentions to flee and slowly vanished, causing the natural state of the heaven’s to occur right in front of your eyes. It felt lonely yet so calming.

‘You seem so dazed by the upcoming nightsky, mia signora.’ The grumbling undertone of Ezio’s voice was vibrating inside of his chest and could be felt against your back. It was as though the vibration was spreading from his breast towards your lower abdomen as a warm and tingling flow. 'It's just beautiful.' You said.

'Just beautiful?' You didn't need to face him to know that he'd raised an eyebrow saying that. It was a very typical gesture Ezio always made, even unknowingly, and that small signal was just enough for him to add a subtle layer of promiscuity to himself. Ezio simply wouldn't be 'Ezio' without a touch of promiscuity. That was the secret to his unexplainable aura that made you taste life whenever you were in his prescence and yet all the flavour would get drained from your tongue if he'd leave, as if the gate's of heaven closed abruptly in front of your eyes as his back was turned towards you. He carried temptation and desire with him, to wherever he goes, and even makes the strictly chaste women beg him for a brush against their thigh, an intense look from his smouldering eyes, a hot and lingering breath against their open mouth.

'Yes, just beautiful, Ezio.'

'And what makes it beautiful, bambini?'

'The calm and enigmatic scenery. It's dark and unknown, and yet it's the most intruiging thing i've ever observed. Reminds a bit of you, just a little bit.' Small spots of flaming skin freckled the whole width of your face and there would be no point in turning the other cheek as Ezio's overtowering head already noticed your reddish feature underneath his gaze. He emitted a breathless laugh, a grumbling grin. There was a tendency that whispered in Ezio's ear. This tendency told him to make a teasing remark about your blushing skin. It would've subconciously stretch out his ego, add a bit of empowerment to his pride knowing that even at the ripe age of 45 he'd still be able to make the early flourished flower allow her sweet nectar to be tasted by him, just a small taste of enlightening in return for enlightment.

'And, again, what makes me a bit like that?' Ezio asked, repeating to raise one eyebrow. You stayed quiet, not knowing what to say, and just kept listening to the constant rips and breaks of small twigs and dried up leaves getting crushed underneath the horse's hooves. 'Am I really that closed, huh? I thought the whole of Italia knew about my reputation from waltzing to one flower to the other.' He released a breathless laugh again. 'Yes, they do. But that is because it's the only part of you they see,' You paused to subtly sniff up the drippling liquid that ran down your left nostril just in time before it reached the open door to your philtrum. 'Truly, you are an open book, but written in a cryptic language.' It was troublesome to hide the breath-heaving excitement that hugged your chest tightly as Ezio's body rubbed itself against yours with every gallop and bumpy cantering the horse made. Wether it be his upper thighs softly caressing the backside of your thighs or the warmth of his sweaty robes clinging itself onto your back, it was enough for your mind to wander towards more bare skin.

'Bambini, there are more parts of me that they have seen. And besides, you are still too young to be putting your nose inside of my younger years.' You grinned softly. 'I don't find you that old.' 'Oh?' 'How old are you? 40?' You asked. 'I wish,' Ezio said, almost daydreaming. 'But alas, I am forty-five.' 'forty-five sounds...' 'Old? Don't be shy, mia signora, I won't bite.' The soft rumbly undertone of his voice was melodic. His talk was never mundane.

'Forty-five sounds ripe.' If you were able , or rather, if you dared to face Ezio you knew that he would be taken aback. You continued. 'A perfect age where experience, wisdom and vigor is combined. Well, it depends on the individual, but you have the right combination; You have a lot of vigor,' His arms slightly embraced you tighter. 'You have experience,' He tugged onto the reigns, expertly, causing the fleshy stallion to prance, exposing the strenght and beautiful anatomy of the animal. 'And wisdom.' And he stood halt in front of his mansion. The mansion where he inhabited the role of mentor, brother, son and lover.

'I feel honored, truly. You may be young, (Y/N), but your mind is beyond your years. I have a friend whom you may like to talk to. Nicollo Machiavelli. Do you know him?' You shook your head. 'I have never heard of messere Machiavelli.' 'Understandable,' Ezio handed the reigns over to the stable boy, a meager young man whose hands had more capacity than his head.

The night might have brought a serenity with her for those whom were able to seek it, but for you there was none to find. The only presence that kept you company, sadly enough, was a bird who kept on singing its weeping lullaby. You just wanted Ezio to be here in this guest room, only him and you. It musn't be moans and brushes and kisses and touches, that enigmatic warmth and intimidation that was present around him was more than enough. How you would've regretted it to wake up the next morning, if you had found the will to sleep, only for this place to be without any trace of Ezio's presence.

An onimous silence brooded. Ezio couldn't be asleep, not yet. And you knew that well enough. You had silent hopes on Ezio coming through your door when you took a porcelain oil lamp holder in your hands and hesitatingly threw it onto the floor. The split second of the oil lamp holder being afflicted by deepend cuts that spread itself rapidly all over the object until it shattered into a mess of piercing shrieks made you shiver as the next second was overflowed by the complete silence of the night. It took less than a minute when you heard heavy stomping coming nearer and nearer. The door opened and exposed Ezio, whose chest was heaving and sighs were heavy, in only his loosened chemise and -Oh, how daring- open breeches. He locked eyes with you before turning his gaze towards the sharp mess on the floor.

'(Y/N), oh dolce madre di Gesù. What did you do now, kid. You could've hurt yourself.' Kid. His vague thinking had spat out the truth of how he truly perceived you. A child. A naïve and stupid child.

'I'm sorry, I just wanted to write but I accidently pushed the lamp holder away with my arm.' You bit the inside of your cheek as you tried to hide the dispair that one word brought you.

Kid

'Well, don't let me interrupt your writing, then. And don't you make me worry like that again, understood? My old man's heart can't take that.' He grinned at his own words before silence took a hold again; for him it was a sign to walk away and so he did. He walked out, but you (Oh, you!) couldn't help but stay nailed to the ground, your eyes following the trails of wrinkles on the back of his chemise.

'Besides,' You said hesitantly, breaking the silence and breaking his steps. Ezio was not far from the door before heading back to you, awaiting your words at your door frame. He stood there and it was real. This all was real. You called him and now you were obliged to continue.

'I am not a kid. I am nineteen. I am an adult.' Ezio smiled -unknown if it was to laugh at you or to have pity on you-. soft rimples adorned the sides of his eyes. You had no idea of what to expect from him. And weird enough, Ezio came closer. 'I know. But you're still so naïve. Do not feel embaressed for being called a kid. Actually, forgive me, I should not have called you such. You are much more mature than a kid,' You didn't know how to respond, so you just nodded your head in acknowledgement, your lips curling into a faint smile.

'But do I look like a young girl? And I mean, like, a kid girl.' Ezio squinted his eyes faintly and his face was slightly angled to the side, mildly questioning you.

'In what context?'

'Physical appearances.' He couldn't help but laugh quietly, shaking his head. '(Y/N), Ragazza, Yes you look like a young girl, but not a kid,' Ezio paused in his words. And you couldn't help but stray your eyes away from his dilated pupils to the curvy pathway of thick eyelashes that hung like curtains underneath his bottom eyelids. 'Your skin is youthful and supple, your eyes look dull but they are filled with life. Why wouldn't you want these features while you still have them?' For some reason you couldn't fixate yourself on his words. At that moment you felt intoxicated by the subject and wanted to take it a step further. You yearned to fall into his arms for no reason but to feel him. If it was possible, you would've clung your body onto his. You weren't even able to process his words, your mind was to busy wandering towards sensing Ezio to the fullest.

'No. No, no, no,' You shook your head with every word, saying them vaguely and you felt like whining for comprehension. 'Not my skin nor my eyes nor my hair nor my ears. I meant my body. Does my body look mature?' Ezio's eyes seemed to hesitate, trembling, as if he feared to break an oath of chastity. He bit onto the soft tissue inside of his cheek, knowing that your gown was fairly see through; such was exposed by the protrusion of your soft nipples.

'You're wearing a loose nightgown so it's difficult for me to judge. Still I cannot judge from the formal dresses you wear, that would be perverse, (Y/N), you know that.' How willing you were to get an answer out of him. Just a comment on your hips or your soft breasts or the faint curvature from your elegant ankle. Nothing more. Allowing him to whisper it to your curves, letting the words embrace its soft skin.

You tugged onto the collar of your nightgown to push it down your shoulders. Ezio kept silent, unable to predict your actions, and yet, somehow, he was in awe. The cotton night dress slipped down from your body and the unexpected exposure of wind seared your skin. You noticed how he tried to quietly cover his breeches with his chemise. It brought you a sense of victory, knowing that his breath was unstable as he fought against his desire to hold you, to warm you, to love you. He nearly seemed frozen.

'(Y/N)...' Ezio pierced your eyes with an intensity of his. You took hold of his hand and unsurely cupped them around your breasts, insecure of his big hands not being delighted by the size -How silly it might've sounded to him-.

'Is my body mature? Please, Ezio, don't keep your thoughts to yourself.' You had to laugh while saying that, you didn't know wether it was to laugh away the scorching silence or your own slight embaressment of your impusliveness.

Ezio held the soft flesh underneath your breasts and tenderly touched them, sometimes his thumb caressed your nipples before replacing it with the soft touches of his incinerating breath and hunry lips. This feeling was new to you, new but welcoming. A heavy intoxication of his bodily warmth seared your skin, your veins, your blooming flower. Your womanhood was singing with passion, begging for him to make it reach her sweet melodious notes like the upper string of a lute. Ezio's lips traced across your collarbone and planting soft kisses with tenderness up to your neck. You instinctively opened your mouth for only a melodious heavy breath that whispered to Ezio for more.

'Your body is so mature, from your beautiful breast,' His handpalm enveloped your private part, slightly squeezing it before pressing two fingers against your humid crease and clit. 'To the carnal lust that hides inside of your fullgrown womanhood.' He whispered against the beginning of your cheekbone. With tender kisses he drew from your cheek to your lips, reddened and plumped by arousal. He sucked onto your bottom lip before taking all of you in. The meatiness from the kiss moved waves of heavily emotions inside of you. Before you'd know it you had your tongue caressing his. Ezio smothered a groan in your mouth. He tasted of wine, tons of glasses to drown the loneliness and create the illusion of a company that was just the two-sidedness of his tipsy subconciousness. His shirt was pulled over his head with an impatient tremble and you know how he slowly came to implode by all of the sensory goodness.

He carried you onto the bed. Ezio's body was fit for his age; broad, muscled an yet soft, but not that soft. His hands wandered towards the rim of his breeches to pull them of, but he came to a halt, leaking the trimmed hairs that led to his manhood. A realistion had hit him.

'Bella,' He spoke. 'You're a virgin, true? Pardon me if I'm incorrect.' You nibbled on your lip. 'Yes.' He hummed. The hum didn't seem one of desire nor out of regret. 'I don't want to put myself on display immediately because that would make you uncomfortable as it is your first time.' A warm sensation formed in your heart. He cared. He truly cared. It made you trust him even more and you were sure he wouldn't hurt you, not at all. His mouth opened, wanting to speak further.

'When was the last time you had your menstrual cycle?' He asked. You let out a breath as you thought about it. 'More than two weeks ago, why?' Oh, how limited your sexual knowledge was and how you were ashamed of it. 'To make sure you won't carry my child.'

Ezio came onto the bed to hover you. 'I'll make sure you never want to share the bed with no other man except for me.' He whispered. Ezio flowered blooming kisses onto your neck as his hand began playing with a single breast, giving love and affection to it. You expected the soft trails of his fingers to set its odyssey towards your womanhood, but he stopped, resting the palm of his hand onto your lower stomach. 'Calm down, bella, you are way to tense.' You didn't even realise how the muscles in your neck had moved against his mouth the lower his hand went or how your eyes counted every indivual speck of grayed out plasterwork that was spreaded across the ceiling as a way to escape the anxiety of the moment.

'I'm sorry,' You said with a breathless grin, trying to laugh away the strain that was poured upon your shoulders.

Ezio's fingers slowly slid down your stomach towards your womanhood as he murmered against you neck how it was okay to feel frightened by the idea of a man seeing her so bare and vulnerable. The first touch against your clitoris, so careful and feathery, had the small and swollen pearl craving for more of the sensational ecstacy. He began playing with it; rubbing, turning, licking and sucking. The closeness and scorching warmth of his mouth against your private part was as loving as it was undressing you from your shame. How you were so riled up that even the most repulsive persons could be seen as appealing if they'd stood in front of you as Ezio was making the tension inside of your folds build up. The warmth of his humid tongue against such an intimiate place felt unexplainable good, so good even, both to you as to him, that glistening streaks of Ezio's salive rolled down your fold onto the white bedsheets.

You gripped Ezio's hair. Your pelvis was raised and back was arched as you felt the sweetness of the upper snare of a lute being played on your womanhood. Your mouth opened and a long lasting moan emitted from deep down your throat as the shuddering sensation overwhelmed you.

Ezio's lips curled into a smirk. 'We are not done yet, ragazza,' He said mischievously. 'But firstly I will need to break your hymen, so it'll be easier for me to enter you.' And there was that small speck of anxiousness again, slowly growing. The flushed colour withdrew itself from your face. 'How will you do that?' You asked with a hint of concern in your voice. Ezio's body hovered yours again and he began sucking your neck with the moist of his mouth. '(Y/N),' he whispered against your skin. '(Y/N),' He whispered again. And again. And again. Ezio massaged your jaw with his hands and locked eyes with you. 'I will enter you with two of my fingers so your vagina will get used to penetration, then i'll slowly go in deeper until it will be a tad easier to enter you.' 'Will it hurt?' You asked, unsurely. 'It can feel a little bit uncomfortable, but not painful.' You gave an understanding nod. 'Do you feel ready, (Y/N)?' And You nodded again.

Ezio's torso embraced the side of your body as his lips found their way to the sweet spot at the end of your jaw and let it be overwhelmed by the humid heat of his mouth. You were pushed back on the crooked duvet with the utmost tenderness of his hand and you could feel how alive his erection was as it slightly sunk into the flesh of your thigh. Ticklish strokes were made by his fingers whom were slowly removed from the rounds of your breast to set its journey to bring itself in between your thighs. He opened them, slowly, and as soon as your womanhood was fully unveiled in front for his eyes -again- his warm hand squeezed your inner thigh before immediately cupping your bush.

Ezio's kisses kept growing onto your neck and breast as his other arm had been slithered underneath your back to embrace it, pushing your side closer against the heat of his body. Both his middle and index finger began to move across your slit, and he did that a few times, and then he twirled his fingers against your hot and naked flesh to cover them with your natural wetness. The sweetness of his kisses began to vanish as you were focusing more on the interaction of time and the distance of his fingers that slowly began to emerge into one puddle of subconscious fear and confusion -which you covered by an arbirtrary and unspontanious grin-. Ezio placed the tip of his fingers against your opening and slowly wiggled them not even half an inch inside of you. He looked at you. 'Are you hurt?' You shook your head, scared that an emitted word from your throat would ruin the state of false, but striking, serenity you were able to put yourself in. Ezio slowly pushed in deeper and wiggled his fingers slightly before taking them back to the beginning of your openening, but not out, to cover it with more lube that was the most present at your crease. And so he did that again and again until the feeling of pinched and uncomfortable skin had passed and his fingers had an open way towards the unknown depths of your body.

Ezio let his fingers return to the fresh air and kissed you passionatly on your lips. 'Good girl.' He whispered against them. And that was when it happened. Ezio stood up from the bed and began opening his breeches, the profits of plundered money slid down his toned legs and he pushed the trousers at his ankles of with his feet.

It was intimidating and...surreal. You had seen penisses before, but on statues which were a state of purity and modesty, but this. You were doubting if he was able to fit as the comparison of size between his fingers and his manhood was draconian. It stood erect and a few droplets of precum shone on top of his glans.

Ezio hovered you and his stubble tickled the skin around your mouth as he kissed you. His breath came in heavy and irregular parts through his nose and brushed your top lip as his hands had pressed you against his body. His erection was pressed against your body. Ezio gripped your inner thigh to place it over his back and you could see how his eyes were in a half open state of intoxication, his mouth -also- half open and forming a faint grimace. He took his penis in his hand and guided it towards your entrance and slowly put it inside of you, just a little bit. He used the same method as he did with his fingers until the uncomfortable pushes had vanished and he was able to enter you fully.

You felt filled, literally. At first, the slow thrusts were numb until your wetness had come much quicker and in a bigger amount which made the thrusts more rapid, rougher and painless. Ezio's mouth stood agape with soft grunts emitted from it.

And suddenly you felt it. A slow but emotionally overwhelming sensation of building up ecstacy was present the more he thrusted and the more the warmth and the nearness of his bare pelvis pushed against yours. You let yourself listen and observe the orders of your body and automatically widened your thighs for Ezio to thrust in deeper. He kept thrusting in, and with each thrust you gripped his thigh, underneath the fold of his buttocks, and tried to push him in deeper as the building up sensation became sweeter and sweeter and the private parts began to throb agressively. You felt that you were almost there and so did Ezio.

You arched your head back and the sweet sensation of Ezio's scorching body against yours, his lenght filling you and his face burried in your neck overwhelm you. You thought your womanhood was about to burst as so much power and energy came from it and you kept squeezing your eyes until Ezio's grunts vanished in your neck with the warm seed that had been spilled inside of you.

All of this was intense. Unbelievable even. You were in bed with an infamous murderer, the blood of tens and hundreds of people sticking in between his fingers and dried onto his armour, and yet he was naked and vulnerable and tired in your embrace. A man in his forties skin on skin with a sensitive youth. Both committed and so alive. You wondered if more days like this were going to come or if that would be an illusion for the pleasure of your mind and that this was just the only time Ezio was able to give in to your sensuality. But for the moment you didn't care. You were both naked, satisfied and intoxicated.

#ezio auditore #ezio auditore da firenze #assassins creed fanfiction #assassins creed brotherhood #ezio x reader #fanfiction #writing #fanfic

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enmy-writes · 3 years

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Just Let Me Help You

Summary: Zuko, trying to keep is girlfriend safe, unintentionally gains the trust of the Gaang after a showdown with Combustion Man.

Word Count: 2728

Fandom: ATLA (Avatar: The Last Airbender)

Pairing: Zuko x Fem!Reader

Genre: Mostly fluff, is fluff-angst a thing? Idk guys I’m soft, you tell me.

Rated: 18+

Content Warnings: Profanity, some gore graphics (brief mentions of blood, killing, murder), uhhhh that’s it I think I’m sorry if I forget anything else.

****Huge shout-out to my friends Kenz and Jenna for editing this and hyping me up. Hopefully, since this semester from Hell will be over soon, I’ll be able to write more. Please request things! Thank-you all for supporting this and let me know more of what you want to see in the future :) Also, feedback is always welcome. Enjoy!****

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They had landed the war balloon days ago, stalking the tired and defeated Team Avatar and trying to figure out how the complicated Fire Prince would convince the people he chased for months that he wants to help them now.

(Y/N) was stoking the hot flame provided by the fire bender, making sure the coals were burning a cherry red before she added leaves and herbs into a pot to make a stew for the two to enjoy. Her eyes followed Zuko as he paced back and forth, practicing what he was going to say when he finally decided to confront the rebel group, lips turned upward in an amused smirk.

“Hey, Zuko here…” she heard him say before he started rambling a bunch of nonsense about his past; from his discovery, to Azula, to his father-- all the tragic topics. It took him about three minutes, but he finished with a hopeful look in his direction.

“Well?!” He clenched his fists at his side in a nervous gesture, only wanting to get this right.

The girl on the log cleared her throat before speaking, obviously hiding her laughter from the sensitive boy. “Well… it’s perfect. I especially liked the ‘Hey, Zuko here’ part. I’m sure that Aang and his friends with be very pleased to finally learn your name instead of thinking you’re called ‘Angry Ponytail Hotman’.’’

He groaned loudly, rubbing his eyes with clenched fists. The melodic laughter from his companion tempted him to give up his quest and just run away with her and live a happy life free of his father and his destiny… whatever that may be.

Still laughing, (Y/N) stood from her log by the fire and made her way to Zuko, coming up behind him. Her arms slid right around his slim body, holding on tight as she tried to pull his mind from the depths of his insecurities.

“Zuko, love.” Her voice is soft, but intense. “Just go down there. I won’t lie, they might not take you right away. You have done a lot of damage to them and their goals.”

His warm hands slide down the tops of her forearms and slide between her chilled fingers, entwining them together as Zuko grips her like she’s holding him down on the land they’re on.

“I… I just…” He struggles to get his feelings out, finding it hard to convey how he feels even to the girl wrapped around him.

She shushes him. “I know.” Is all she says, as they stand there in a momentary comfortable silence before she detaches from him to continue dinner.

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Zuko had told her to stay behind, that he’d be back to either get her or because he failed to convince the group that he came to support them, instead of harm them.

“Zuko! I could easily be an alibi for you. A reason for them to trust you!”

“No. End of story. They could attack me and you’re in Fire Nation clothes. You’re staying here.”

A staring match between the two only lasted a few seconds, but (Y/N) let it go; remembering Iroh’s advice that sometimes the boy has to do what eases his mind to grow.

The empty pot gleamed an orange glow from the flames, a light in the dark woods that surrounded the two as they lounged by the fire.

(Y/N) was carding her fingers through the upset prince’s hair while he stared at the sky; confused. His emotions spilling onto (Y/N). He didn’t talk much about the encounter, only enough to tell her that they wouldn’t be helping the Avatar defeat his father anytime soon. Rather than pressure him, she offered her solace with calming actions rather than words.

The two had met in their early childhood, (Y/N)’s father being the leader of the Yuyan Archers and of course the Fire Lord wanted the talented girl to meet his… troubled son. In hope that she could help bend his son into the ruthless leader the nations needed to proceed him. Though they didn’t see each other as much as they should have due to (Y/N)’s schooling, the two quickly became close friends and were often found with Lady Ursa quietly running around the palace grounds.

His banishment led to (Y/N) perfecting her skills, and becoming the master she was destined to be, given there was no more distraction. No one could understand her in the way that Zuko did— they fit together like they were made for one another. Where he was hotheaded, she was cool; Where he was nimble and direct, she was resourceful and hidden. The two were the perfect set of opposites who ultimately balanced each other. And one without the other was a heartbreak everyone could see.

When she heard the news of his return, she rushed to the palace; radiant as ever. In an instant, the two fell back into where they left off; barely any words needed between the two. Her fingers and lips had trailed over his scar often in those few days, brushing away the tears and insecurities that came with it.

Leaving the Fire Nation with Zuko wasn’t even a debate in her mind. She was tired of the life of lies and torment that her nation inflicted upon the world. She had spent the last two years relocating and rebranding people who were targets to the Fire Nation. In total, about one hundred innocent lives were saved from her dangerous missions. Her skill level was better than even her father’s, and she prided herself in her abilities. (Y/N) was truly a professional in her art with the eye of an eagle.

When she caught Zuko writing a letter to her with packed bags on his bed, she instantly went into the shadows and caught up with the boy easily, hiding in the balloon behind the engine for a while until it was too late for him to turn back. It was hot and the most uncomfortable thing she has ever done, but she regrets none of it. She joked with the boy; how did he not question a pile of fabric behind the piece of equipment that holds fire? She let it go after he hugged her close and cried for a while.

“Don’t do that shit again, Zuko.” Her voice was stern, though her voice stern, she held him close. She ghosted her fingers over his tense shoulders; the shoulder that carried such burdens. She pressed her fingers into his shoulders; trying her best to rub the tension from his body.

“I won’t. Never again. Don’t leave me, I need you.”

A rustle of leaves and broken trees in the forest near the edge of their little camp put the two into defense, instantly gripping her perfectly crafted bow and quiver. Her ears pricked at a slight movement and she aimed her bows in the direction of the noise without even looking. Suddenly, green clothes fill the area as a younger girl makes her way into the clearing. Startled, Zuko sends a wave of fire towards the intruder, burning the girl.

Everything happened fast.

(Y/N)’s left foot—her plant foot—sunk into the ground and twisted inward, releasing a loud crack into the air. The Earth girl was long gone now; Zuko had been screaming at himself when he heard the cry of pain and the sickening noise that left the lips of his girlfriend.

The earth has released its hold on her, but the damage was done. She kneeled, trying to hold back tears but failing as they kept streaming down her face in a pain response. Zuko’s own eyes filled with tears as he ran over to her, helping her sit down and take the tension off of it.

The joint was already beginning to swell, black and blue and purple and yellow starting to show up in swirls around the area. Zuko carefully tried to feel the injury, barely touching the girl in fear of hurting her more. (Y/N) sighed, pushing his fingers away and ignoring his protest. She rotated her foot outward, cringing at the pain, but crying out when she turned it the other way. Zuko cupped his hands around her ankle, hands heated slightly to hopefully alleviate the pain.

“Baby… it’s okay—”

“No, you’re hurt! I knew this would happen!” He cuts her off with a panicked yell. (Y/N) places her hands on the sides of his face, forcing his eyes upon hers with a slight wince of discomfort.

“It’s most definitely, at worst, a fracture. I can still move it outwards without a lot of pain. It’s, like, a week off my foot at most and then another week with a splint and a crutch. I am okay, Zuko.” They stared at each other for a solid minute, saying nothing.

"Promise?" Zuko whispered.

"You think I would lie to you, Zuko?" She says as she wraps her pinky his for good measure

They turn in not too long after, (Y/N)’s ankle wrapped up in some extra clothes for stability. Zuko’s arms hold her to his chest as they slip off into the world of dreams.

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Oh shit. She thought from her perch on top of the cliff edge. The assassin that they have also been trying to find has been blowing up the place, really testing the stability of the edge of the cliff in shakes after shakes like an earthquake. Zuko had told her to stay at camp, but unfortunately for Zuko; (Y/N) was never that good at listening to commands.

She was sitting down, watching the Avatar, his friends, and her boyfriend try to figure out how to win this fight against the combustion bender, feet dangling over the edge. She didn’t want any pressure on her foot from standing on it; settling for the dull throbs of pain coming from the force of gravity alone.

Some third eye. (Y/N) thought to herself as she watched her boyfriend get too close to being blown off the edge of the cliff, wincing. She quickly strung her bow, aiming it at the man. She smirked, a devious smirk, and aimed it in a precise location.

Zuko was still trying to talk the man out of it when suddenly, his eyes went blank and the grossest sound he has ever heard reached his ears. Everyone watched the man, confused as to why he just stopped. It’s not until red trails down his forehead and around his nose in a slow trickle that they look at his eye.

In the middle of the red eye, that at one point seemed indestructible; an arrow sat; a perfect shot — his perfect shot. "Bullseye!" (Y/N) howled, her voice resonating in his ears.

In the midst of Zuko's panic, he failed to recognize the cliff he was standing on becoming increasingly unsturdy; turning he locked eyes with the archer. A ghost of a smile graced her lips, pride radiating off of her. Though he was angry, he couldn't help but share her pride. He locked eyes with his girlfriend who was sitting nonchalantly on the cliff edge above them all, waving nonetheless, when he told her to stay back. It’s then that the earth beneath him rumbles and falls, taking him with it.

“Zuko!” She screams, jumping to her feet; a loud crack coming from her ankle, buckling under the pressure and bringing her to her knees.

With a hobble in her step, (Y/N) climbed down the cliffside. The tears ran down her face at a ferocious pace, making her way over to the cliffside, a loud sob relented from her mouth as she saw Aang helping Zuko up over the edge of the cliff.

"Spirits, Zuko!" She breathed, limping her way over to him and hugging him tight. "I should kill you, you fucking idiot!" She sobbed, pulling him into her chest.

Zuko huffed out a laugh, wrapping his arms around her. He took deep breaths, calming his nerves from his near death experience; he focused on the feeling of her hand carding through his hair to grip it tight, and the hold on his shoulders. As he calms down, he remembers that he told her to stay put; and he sharply pulls away.

"I told you to stay at camp!" He huffed, "I told you I was coming back for you!”

She scoffs pushing on his forehead with two fingers. “In case you have forgotten, Zuko, I have authority issues. If I weren’t here, who would be saving your stupid royal ass? No one! You’re welcome, by the way. He wasn’t going to negotiate, Prince Pouty, and you and everyone else here is no good to the world dead.”

“You—You---You could’ve been hurt! (Y/N)! Or worse!” His protest was a whisper, trying to make the scene more private as he’s aware of the crowd around them.

“Zuko, love, I can handle myself. I’m a master at my craft--.”

"—your craft of carelessness, you could've been killed—"

"—but I wasn't Zuko!"

"That's not the point." His voice stern, making it clear that the conversation was done for now. (Y/N) simply nodded, pulling away from him and fixing her clothes.

Aang, Toph, Katara and Sokka watched the two as they argued; watching as they continuously tried to out-care the other. They watched as the two eventually stopped arguing, instead remained staring, as if daring each other to speak

“That was a ... nice shot? I guess?" Aang spoke, clearing his throat and drawing the couples attention to him. "He's definitely you know, dead."

(Y/N) smiles at the boy. “Thank you, Avatar, for helping save this dumb ass from falling off a cliff.” She gets up and bows to him. Zuko suddenly picks her up, the world turning sideways as he put her bridal style in his arms.

“Stop putting weight on your ankle!”

“I’m literally showing respect to the person who just helped you, is that a crime?”

“What if you break your ankle so much that you have to cut it off.”

“Oh, now you’re just being ridiculous.”

“Okay well you were first when deciding to sit on the edge of a cliff with a broken ankle.”

“You’re right! Sitting is dangerous. Next time, I’ll make sure to stand so at least I’ll have a better chance of reacting if the cliff side starts falling from under me. Oh wait, you were standing, and you still fell.”

Zuko sets her down on a broken rock that’s suitable enough for her to sit on. “Will you just shut up already and let me help you.” He reaches for her ankle, but she moves it from his grasp. Their eyes meet again and narrow in competition.

A mess of limbs as the (Y/N) evades the grip of Zuko, occasionally slapping his hands away if they get too close.

Sokka tilts his head in confusion and opens his mouth. “Is he—is he actually caring for someone?”

Aang nods. “I think? I don’t know, they’re kind of fighting a lot.”

Toph cringes, “Guys, I think it was me who hurt her in the first place. Last night at their camp. Zuko instantly stopped trying to help me when I heard her scream.”

“Guys… I think I’m supposed to let him be my master. I mean, he did just risk everything to save us.” Aang says, eyes locked on the one member who he cares more about than anyone.

Katara, still holding off on agreeing, looks to the two Fire Nation kids again.

“Ow! You bit me! Are you crazy?!” Zuko yells, shaking his left hand out.

The stranger girl laughs cheerfully. “Only crazy for you, stupid.”

And a phenomenon occurs. Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation blushes and looks down at the ground, a huge smile on his face.

“I hate you.” Is all he says.

“Yeah, I love you too.”

Katara, seeing the humane side of the prince, finally lets her guard down and walks over to them. Zuko’s eyes widen at her proximity, but the water tribe girl holds his gaze.

“I’ll heal the girl if it gets you two to shut up. And you have to find dinner for tonight.”

Katara’s eyes widen again at the sight of the crying prince who suddenly bows to her feet, thanking her with his whole heart. He then turns to his smiling girl beside him and pulls her into a hug.

“Thank you, (Y/N). For everything.”

“I’ll always help you… stupid.”

#zuko #zuko imagine #zuko x reader #avatar zuko #atla x reader #atla #fanfic #Avatar The Last Airbender #atla fanfic #atla x you #zuko x you #zuko x y/n #x reader #enmy-writes atla

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myloveforhenrycavill · 3 years

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Devastated | Clark Kent x Reader

Pairing: Clark Kent x Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: cancer, angst

A/N: Hey guys! Really hope you enjoy this fic. It’s super angsty. I revisited an old fic that I wrote many, many years ago for a different fandom, but it felt right to rewrite it with stuff that’s going on in my life right now with my dad. Please let me know what you guys think, but please be gentle (me fragile). This is my first fic about one of Henry ‘s characters, but I look forward to getting back into writing. Xxx much love -Stina

My Fic Recs

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Clark stared at the ceiling of his room listening to the clock hanging above his door. To anyone else, this would have been dull background noise, but to Clark it sounded like thunder roaring. It had been a painfully long day working at the Daily Planet and he was beyond glad it was over. Perry had been breathing down his neck all day about a story and his approaching deadline. Relief washed over Clark when he walked through the doors of his apartment building, but something was still missing. All he wanted to do was go see you.

Oh, how much he wanted to see you. You always brightened his day no matter what he had on his mind. The two of you had a complicated relationship. You were technically just friends. However, you tend to do things that only couples do. You've kissed once or twice after a night out and constantly cuddled each other whenever the chance arises, but it never progressed further than that. Neither of you brought up the subject, afraid of the others reaction and afraid to ruin whatever it was you had. Clark wanted to, god he wanted to, but you’ve never been in a real relationship and he hasn’t wanted to scare you away. He cares about you way too much to let that happen. Clark wants to protect you from ever being hurt no matter the cost.

It had been hours since Clark got home. He’s tried texting you around 10 times and has called you five times. This wasn't like you. You practically lived on your phone. You both always update each other throughout the day. Thank god for unlimited texting or else you would both be royally screwed. Clark was starting to get quite worried. What if something happened? Is she okay? were the only thoughts running through his head. He knew you were off from work today and you would have texted him if your job called you to come in. Maybe she's just asleep. She rarely has her volume up ever. Yeah, that has to be it. Clark was tempted to fly over to your apartment to check on you, but decided to text your sister before doing anything rash.

C: "hey, y/s/n. Is everything alright? I've been trying to reach Y/n for the last couple of hours and she isn't responding to me."

Y/s/n: "Clark, can you please go over to her apartment? She's an absolute wreck. I've heard her like this. I'm really worried."

C: "I’m on my way… what happened?"

Y/s/n: "our dad got his results back..."

The text was longer, but that was all Clark had to read before he flew over to your building. He didn’t care if anyone saw him. The whole world could have been burning and he wouldn’t have stopped. Your dad had cancer when you were younger, but he was doing well and had been in remission for quite some time. Recently, he had started to feel the same symptoms as the first time and went to get some tests done. Y/s/n's text only meant one thing. The cancer was back.

If this was true, then it made perfect sense why you wouldn't contact him. You would be devastated. Your dad was the most important person in your life. You loved him unconditionally and looked up to him like he could do no wrong.

Clark reached you within seconds. He knocked on the door and waited. He could hear nothing but silence which surprised him. When you did not come to the door, Clark retrieved the spare key from the top of your door frame. When he didn’t see you on the couch, he made his way to your bedroom and slowly opened the door, careful not to startle you. You laid there on the purple comforter sleeping. You looked utterly exhausted from crying. Your puffy eyes were singed pink. Your cheeks looked wet and sticky from what surely was hours of countless tears flowing. It truly pained Clark to see you in such a state.

Clark climbed into the other side of the bed just like he'd done numerous times before, but this time was different. You looked so broken. He carefully reached over and wiped a few stray tears off your cheeks and placed a gentle kiss underneath each of your eyes. They slowly fluttered open and acknowledged Clark’s presence. You sniffled a few times, but didn't cry.

"What are you doing here, Clark?" you whispered as if just that was taking all your energy.

"Your sister texted me...what happened, y/n? You know you can tell me anything," Clark inquired knowing that she needed to let it all out.

"You don't have to do this, Clark. Go somewhere and have fun. Don't waste your time on me. I know you'd rather be out with your other friends right now. You probably had a rough day and don’t need me to unload my baggage," you spoke immediately biting your lip and blinking your eyes in order to fight back the tears that were already pooling.

"Listen, love. You know that there is nowhere else I would rather be. I'm here for you and I always will be. No matter what happens, I'll be right here by your side. I care about you, Y/n. I care more than you could ever know, just tell me what happened." Clark cupped your cheek as he gently wiped the traitorous tears away with the pad of his thumb.

You broke and told Clark everything that had happened since he spoke to you last. You were a trembling mess laid on the bed next to him. Clark tightly wrapped both his arms around you, never wanting to let go whispering comforting words into your ear trying to make it even a little bit better.

You grabbed his white t-shirt with two fists and sobbed into it which would surely be ruined with your leftover mascara running from your eyes. It didn't matter to Clark though, not even a little. It was worth it. You were worth it.

Once you calmed down hours later, Clark pulled back slowly still holding you securely and stared at you. You looked up at him through your lashes and had the faintest smile across your face.

"Thank you, Clark, genuinely. For everything. You didn't have to lay here with me this entire time. I'm not worth it..."

Clark stopped you instantly. "Don't ever say that, my love. You deserve the moon, the stars, and the sun. Anyone who tells you otherwise is lying. I would go to the end of the earth for you and it still would never be enough. I care about you, Y/n. More than I can even put into words. The past few months that this has been going on have been the best of my life. You make me feel whole. Like something has been missing all this time and I'm starting to realize what it was. "

The dim smile that you once wore turned into a full-blown smirk. "I don't see what you're getting at Mr. Kent."

That's it. There's my girl. MY girl. God, I love the way that sounds. That sarcastic idiot is my world and I intended to spend the rest of my life proving that to her.

"Shut up," Clark muttered as he slowly leaned in, meeting you in the middle. Your lips collided and the feeling of his lips connected with your soft ones felt like nothing he could ever describe. He would never get sick of this feeling. The way you made him feel was like he was floating high through the sky (which he had plenty of experience with, but this was a million time better). The best high that no drug could every give him. If you were a drug, Clark was happily addicted to your sweet intoxication.

You both pulled back and Clark rested his forehead on yours cupping your face with both of his hands. "Let's get some sleep, love. We can discuss more of this tomorrow if we need to."

You sluggishly nodded with your head still spinning and placed your head on his broad chest curling into the position you had assumed many times before. Clark loved nothing more than cuddling with you. It felt like home. She is my home.

You placed one hand across his chest as he dropped both of his arms comfortably around your waist not letting you go anywhere. Tonight, she is all mine and I can live with that.

One day you would take the next step closer to each other, but not tonight. You were still vulnerable from the news of your dad’s health. Clark wanted your decision to be with him to be a clear one, not just because he was the only one there for you. Tonight, Clark was simply a shoulder to cry on and he was perfectly content with that. Someday, Y/n. Someday, I will have the guts to tell you how I really feel. How I'm quickly feeling that four-letter word that every guy is so afraid of. But the thing is, I'm not so afraid anymore.

#clark kent x reader #clark kent #henry cavill #superman #superman x reader #clark kent angst #clark kent fanfiction

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ultraimaginez · 3 years

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What’s In a Name - [Diavolo x Reader]

Fandom: Obey Me!

Character: Diavolo

A/N: This is honestly more of a character study of Diavolo being soft than anything else. I just love one (1) future demon king who just wants to be included god damn it. Please someone let Diavolo be a part of the gang. Anyway this has now inspired me to write more Diavolo content so send an ask if you have suggestions lol

_________________________________________

An honorific can be such a powerful and yet profoundly lonely thing.

It’s been a long time since anyone has addressed Diavolo without putting the word “Lord” before his name. His lordship is just as much a part of who he is now as any other bit of him. Even his two closest friends address him as “Lord Diavolo” -- and before the exchange program that truly didn’t feel all that odd. It was simply the way things were.

And then you arrived...

________________________________________

Diavolo does his best to be diplomatic and levelheaded in his day to day interactions, but he’s just as much a demon prone to his vices as any other. Watching the way you so casually interact with the brothers of House Lamentation stirs envy in his gut and reminds him of his own isolation in a way he hasn’t felt for a very long time.

He’s always wanted what Lucifer had with his brothers-- that closeness with another person. An intimacy greater than lust, one built on a casual closeness and unspoken understanding that you seem to fall into so naturally.

He notices it in little ways.

It’s the way Levi embraces your physical proximity in a way he’s never seen him do with any other person in all the centuries he’s known him. It’s the way Asmodeus, who has purposely never invited him to one of his parties, makes a point to involve you in every single thing he does. It’s the way Mammon goes out of his way to give to you after a lifetime in the devildom of withholding everything he can get his hands on.

If Diavolo is being honest he can’t really tell who he’s actually jealous of. It’s difficult to pinpoint whether he’s envious of you, who has formed a connection with these boys in less than a year when he hasn’t been able to in literally millennia. Or maybe he’s envious of them, who have developed this casual closeness with you he could never have.

Well, at least he thinks he could never have that.

________________________________________

But you don’t seem to be privy to the unspoken rules that surround Lord Diavolo, and if you are then you certainly don’t seem to care.

The first time you call him by a nickname he’s almost positive Lucifer is about to fly into his demon form and murder you.

You walk into his office where he’s been chatting with Lucifer and make yourself at home in one of the seats across from his desk. “Hey! What’s good, D-man? Do you have a sec? I’ve got a question.”

He has to physically throw up a hand into Lucifer’s chest to stop him from ruining what might be the first taste he’s had of the sort of relaxed friendliness Lucifer gets to see every day.

The eldest brother is still snarling as he seems to barely register Lord Diavolo’s hand. “MC. I’ve told you. It’s L-”

Diavolo cuts Lucifer off with a look and the black haired demon just stares at him with a look of equal parts confusion and irritation.

“For you? I’ve got several seconds.” He beams at you and then move to lean across the desk. “What seems to be the problem?” He asks, completely ignoring his friend who he can now tell has gone from seething, to confused, to something altogether unreadable. He doesn’t think about it too long though as all of his attention turns to you.

________________________________________

And he assumes that this will (unfortunately) be a one off incident since there’s no way Lucifer did not freak out on you the second the two of you were back home.

He is pleasantly surprised to find that it is not.

At first it feels strange to hear himself referred to anything other as Lord Diavolo but as time goes on you seem to make a game of coming up with as many absurd names as possible. D, D-man, Diav, DD, Volvo, Volvo XC90, Volvo S60... (at some point they just sort of devolve into you trying to name as many makes and models of Volvo cars as you can.) And it makes Lucifer furious which is honestly half the fun. Because for once he’s a part of the inside joke. He knows how it must feel to be one of the brothers. He is a part of the inner world of the House Lamentation instead of being the source of conflict within it.

And he knows that if it were anybody else that this would be an attempt at mockery-- and he wouldn’t hesitate to strike them down. Everyone in the Devildom knows what he’s capable of, even you despite the fact that you willfully ignore it.

But there is a profound difference when you call him a nickname because it’s never at his expense. He can tell you’re trying to make him smile-- and it works.

You are so genuine, so authentic, it’s almost hard for him to take. He has been so used to bureaucracy for so long and his goals of unity have overshadowed the importance of genuine connection for himself. You remind him why is dream is worth achieving...

________________________________________

His dream is worth it for the moments like the one he’s having now, where you sit across from him in his office and rattle on about your classes. These “meetings” had started as an excuse for him to “get a better idea of how you were integrating into the school” but now they happen every single day and there’s no way he can continue to operate under the pretext that they’re for the exchange program when he literally does not do this with anybody else.

“-and then in potions class I was working on my assignment and you’ll never guess what Mammon did! He literally just-” you spastically flail your arms simulating your earlier experience “freaks out because he was checking his phone and realized he lost a shit ton of money on some stupid sports gambling app and knocks ALL my ingredients into the cauldron at once so then KABOOM! It goes everywhere! ........ hey.... are you even listening to me?? Yo! Earth to Diavolo? Come in, Diavolo...”

He shakes himself out of his own inner monologue and smiles at you, laughing and trying to make his brain and heart and everything else catch up on the same page again. “Sounds like classic Mammon.” He says and he watches as your skeptical glance in his direction softens again.

“Well you’re NEVER going to guess what happened next-”

_____________________________________

He wonders if you’re aware of the impact you’ve had on everyone around you or if you’re just naively altering their world without much thought about it at all. He guesses it’s the latter. You don’t seem to see the effect you have on him or the brothers.

Maybe that’s for the best.

He’s not sure he could put his gratitude for the small moments you share into words. In part because he does not have the words to do so, and in part because he could never bring himself to be that vulnerable. But he knows that Barbatos and Lucifer can see it. They don’t say anything-- probably because they care too deeply for him to see him struggle through articulating what’s on his mind-- but it’s clear to everyone but you.

You’ve managed to give the Future King of the Devildom a reprieve from his isolation when no one else could.

#obey me #obey me! shall we date?#obey me diavolo #obey me lord diavolo #Obey me diavolo x reader #obey me diavolo x mc #lord diavolo #fics #0-2k #my work

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burai-note-au · 7 months

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Kira Burai AU

"All these years, and things are finally about to get interesting on Earth again, huh? Sorry to interrupt, miss, but you've got something of mine..."

The nightmare is over. Has been for five years. Kira is dead, and everyone knows it. A new god raises hell against the world, the international terrorist organization, PROXY. They take credit for the death of Kira, and bombing the Kira Task Force headquarters, and leaving Yagami Light in a coma he will probably never wake from. They don’t talk about what they did to L, but the videos leaked onto the dark web speak for themselves.

The world has moved on, but not everyone has. L is troubled by more than just lingering pain. His reputation as the world’s greatest detective is tarnished. Most of the former Task Force officers refuse to acknowledge him. Criminals he’d thought were dealt with keep resurfacing, sensing weakness, craving revenge. And he’ll never get that justice he promised after all. Light’s memory haunts him worse than any ghost - the memory of a man he may have, may have, seen as more than a murder suspect.

He goes by Hikaru now.

It’s been five years and Briar Gillespie is doing okay. She’s all grown up and in the big city of Tokyo, like she always knew she would. Her missionary parents long returned to America, she’s made a nice little life for herself. She works, she bakes, she feeds strays, she is happy. But in the back of her mind she hasn’t forgotten the only god she’s ever truly believed in, and her wish for a peaceful world shattered once again by painful reality.

It takes just one person to change the path of fate. And when a Death Note shoots into her life like a bullet from a gun, Briar makes her decision.

FAQ:

What is this AU?

This is what happens when I have too much time on my hands and a lot of friends to bounce ideas off of.

No but really - this AU is about an ex Kira cultist who gets her hands on a Death Note and decides to become an Angel for her dead god. Except Kira isn’t technically dead, and L and the police are not the only problems she needs to worry about. Meanwhile, L returns to Japan on the hunt for a serial killer he once believed put away for good. What’s gonna happen when L and Briar meet? Let’s find out together!

Who are you?

I'm Coffee! Or Jason if you like that better. As of writing I'm 31 years old, and I've been doing this since I was at least 13. You are in good hands, I promise, I mostly know what I'm doing. I live in the USA on the East Coast, more in the south than the north, and within driving distance of the beach. Unfortunately for me, I like the beach better in theory than in practice. What I do like are cats - I'd love to see yours!

What can I expect from this blog?

Pretty much what you'd get from any fandom blog I guess. Headcanons, reblogs of fanart or memes or character analysis, that kind of stuff, all sfw. My created content will always be centered on this au, of course.

What’s your stance on shipping?

I have a fondness for Lawlight so that will pop up now and then, mostly in the past tense since Light is, uh, kinda in a coma right now. I don’t have anything in mind for other ships - doesn’t mean they won’t show up, I just don’t have ideas for any.

Any trigger warnings I should know about?

Transphobia [L is trans]

Anti foreigner attitudes

Torture

General 'period typical' bigotry and attitudes in general

Will add more as I think of them

Tags - for organizing and finding things:

To be determined

#burai au #death note au #death note #death note oc #l death note #death note fic #death note fanfiction

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dailylogyn · 3 years

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Logyn Meta: Loki & Sigyn’s relationship in the Marvel Comics

Photo Source (by Sexy-Salmon): https://lokisergi.tumblr.com/post/70164902295/siege-loki-problems-it-almost-looks-innocent

Other Logyn Meta’s: https://dailylogyn.tumblr.com/tagged/logyn-meta

Did you know Sigyn was in the Marvel Comics long ago? Did you know Loki had a wife?

Oh...that’s probably because Marvel wanted you to forget their terrible writing mistakes concerning this great Norse Couple.

Let’s dive into this exploration of history where the Marvel writers realized they fucked up on telling a perfectly good couples story, and in the process, setting off a spark of rebellion that caused some retconning and a group of fans to demand justice for both Loki & Sigyn -- not just as a couple, but as their own individual beings.

#JusticeforSigyn #JusticeforLoki #JusticeforLogyn

Where it First Began (Meeting & Marriage of Lies):

In September of 1978, Thor #275 came out featuring the first appearance of Sigyn, Loki’s wife from Norse Mythology. She was introduced as a beautiful Asgardian Loki had randomly come across while looking into a crystal ball inside his castle, wanting to find some companionship to fill his loneliness.

However, when Loki came with riches and jewels to offer her in exchange for her hand in marriage, Sigyn outright rejected him, stating she would never take someone as vile as him, even stating she was already engaged to an Asgardian Warrior part of Odin’s guard -- Theoric.

Unable to accept this, Loki came up with a plan to have her fiancee killed during a mission, resulting in the Trickster taking on the disguise of Theoric in order to take Sigyn for his own. Despite having slightly suspicions of her lover being more romantic than before, Sigyn didn't notice that her lover wasn’t exactly who she thought he was.

Now comes the day of the wedding as Odin marries the happy couple. This was when Loki finally revealed his true self and what he had done. Odin tried to null the marriage, but it was against Asgardian law for even the High Father to do such a thing. Hence, Sigyn accepted her fate as Loki’s wife. This caused Odin to name her the Goddess of Fidelity.

Where it’s Heading (Cargo of Incantation-Fetter’s Arms):

Loki being Loki, he did some shit that ended up with him being imprisoned in a tree by Odin, something that infuriated Sigyn, resulting in her trying to take control over Donald Blake to use over the All-Father as a way to free her husband from his punishment. However, it didn’t work out, resulting in a bunch of other crazy shit happening and putting Thor on their trail.

After Balder was killed, Loki was put on trials for his crimes and received yet another punishment that Sigyn had to protect him from -- having burden over the fact she was “the evil’s wife.” Just like the classic Norse tale, she holds a bowl over his head, shielding him from snake venom and leaving to empty it momentarily when it became full, resulting in Loki cursing her.

Also, Loki and Sigyn had a child -- Narvi, but they died young, being used as the binding to imprison Loki (following the Norse myth too.)

Some more crazy shit happens and now Odin has shackled Loki to Sigyn so he doesn’t cause anymore trouble. Loki of course is not pleased about this one bit. Having had enough of this, he went to Odin demanding to be released, only resulting in him being banished to an outpost.

There Just Might be Hope????:

Some more shit happens again, resulting in Loki being stuck in an astral form and bound to a suit of armor so he could reside in Asgard thanks to Sigyn. A fight happens with Thor, Loki and Mephisto, putting Sigyn in danger. This is when for the first time ever, Loki ends up having a tender confession of love over Sigyn, asking Thor to save her since he could not.

It’s unknown if this is just Loki putting on an act or being real, but you know how the Trickster God can be.

After the battle, while Loki had released Sigyn from her marital vows, his wife swore to always be there for him when he needed her.

And that’s the last we see of Sigyn’s regular appearance in the comics in 1996. She makes a cameo in Avengers: Unleashed #1 in 2019, but it’s nothing more than a flashback to her time of helping Loki.

A Hypothesis & Notes on their relationship in comics:

The whole entire plotline consisting of Theoric and Loki killing him in order to obtain Sigyn is just something most of the fandom doesn’t like. Not only does it objectify Sigyn, but it makes Theoric a Pointless character to introduce anyway, only used as a tool for means in which Loki can get Sigyn, when honestly, he could have done so in a different way.

I like that they stick with Sigyn being the faithful wife of Loki (that’s who she is), but they honestly don’t give her any agency in this besides that trait alone. The writers don’t even let Sigyn be her own damn person! She is SO MUCH MORE than Loki’s loyal wife. SHE IS A FREAKIN GODDESS! I know there is more we can do with her.

Instead of pulling the ‘woe is me, my husband is evil and I’ll just go along with it’ card, something else could have been done. LIKE LITERALLY, ANYTHING ELSE! We know Loki can be a troublemaker, but Sigyn knows how to deal with his shit. She isn’t some damsel in distress here! It’s another reason Loki likes her.

Couples can bicker in times, it’s normal in marriages and relationships, but to have Loki whining about how much of a burden Sigyn is is just....WHY? I mean, you went after the woman and killed another guy for her. This is what you wanted! *shakes head at writers*

I will give them kudos though for some of the stuff near the end when Loki actually starts displaying his true feelings of love towards Sigyn. And sadly we only got a little taste of that...and we aren’t even sure if it was an act or Loki being real.

THE FACT THAT SIGYN ISN’T EVEN IN THE COMICS ANYMORE SINCE 1996. She’s only mentioned, but it’s just as a tale, not as an actual person who USED to be his wife. They literally killed her off. EXCUSE ME! #JusticeforSigyn (We’re still waiting for her in the MCU...)

NORSE MYTHOLOGY TIE-INS:

There were some moments in the comics between them that they writers took from Norse Mythology with them. Thought It’d be important to list.

Loki’s Punishment of snake venom dripping onto him while Sigyn holds a bowl to collect it and shield him.

Narvi being Loki & Sigyn’s son who was killed and his insides used to bind Loki for his punishment.

Sigyn being Loki’s wife.

DIFFERENT WRITERS, DIFFERENT CHARACTERIZATION:

As is the case with everything out there, if you have different writers working on the same project, there is bound to be a difference of characterization and interpretation, resulting in OOC moments or just something completely different altogether. After researching and pondering on this subject, I FULLY believe this is what has happened with Loki & Sigyn’s relationship in the comics. Let’s take a look at the evidence I’ve found:

For the comics Sigyn’s creators were Roy Thomas, John Buscema and Tom Palmer.

Loki’s creators for the comics were Stan Lee, Larry Lieber, Jack Kirby, Violet Barclay, and honestly, many others.

My favorite quotes on them from the comics:

Wait? Despite the crappy writing, I actually have quotes I like from the comics? GASP! I call these the only positives from the comics of their relationship.

“My Sigyn-- the love of my immortal life...” — Loki, Thor Annual Vol 1 #19

“Aye-- For only Sigyn, of all in the realm eternal, feels love for Loki. And among all Asgardians, only for Sigyn does Loki feel...” — Loki, Thor Annual #19

“Sigyn loves me-- just as she is the only thing in the nine worlds that I truly love.”— Loki, Thor #483

Photo Source: https://www.zerochan.net/1262293#full

Fandoms Wish for MCU & Future Appearance Justice:

Fans would like to see Sigyn make an appearance, not only in the MCU (Marvel Cinematic Universe), but also the Marvel Comics once again. They would like to see Loki & Sigyn’s characters done justice with proper writing, especially regarding their relationship with each other.

This is why there is plenty of fans out there writing Fanfiction, making Fanart, Roleplaying and even Cosplaying them, giving their interpretation’s of what their relationship would be like. This is THE VERY REASON this blog and @sigynappreciation was created to help spread awareness and unite fans who feel the same way.

These characters are very near and dear to our hearts. Some of us even worship them in our religions. We would like to see their relationship grow and portrayed in a way that helps fill the pieces of the missing puzzle to how they came to be in Norse Mythology.

CONCLUSION:

Although their relationship in the comics usually leaves fans grimacing, at least we got to have it explored. Who knows if Marvel will ever touch anything with them ever again, but at least it’s brought together a small community that continues to go strong -- and honestly, that kind of unity is what Loki & Sigyn would want.

So imagine to your hearts content! Draw that fanart! Write those fanfictions! Dress up in that cosplay! Be those characters! But just remember, you have a family here to love and support you.

SOURCES:

Sigyn’s info on Marvel Database: https://marvel.fandom.com/wiki/Sigyn_(Earth-616)

Loki’s info on Marvel Database: https://marvel.fandom.com/wiki/Loki_Laufeyson_(Earth-616)

Sigyn on Marvel Universe: http://www.marvunapp.com/Appendix/sigynthor.htm

Logyn on the Shipping Wiki: https://shipping.fandom.com/wiki/Logyn

Loki & Sigyn’s relationship through Media: https://www.alehorn.com/blogs/blog/norse-mythology-loki-and-sigyn

#logyn #loki x sigyn #loki and sigyn #Marvel Comics #Loki Laufeyson #sigyn #logyn meta #Constancy & Chaos (Logyn)#justiceforsigyn #justiceforlogyn #justiceforloki

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thetypedwriter · 3 years

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All the Young Dudes Fanfiction Review

All the Young Dudes Fanfiction Review by MsKingBean89

So.

This is a first.

If you’ve been following this blog for some time, then you know I generally read young adult books and write far too lengthy reviews on them with the occasional outlier of adult fiction, mystery, sci-fi, etc.

At any given time, I usually have both a physical book that I’ve bought from somewhere that I’m working on (right now it’s Firekeeper's Daughter by Angeline Boulley) as well as a fanfiction that I reserve until before I go to bed (my treat for a day well lived).

Fanfiction is something that I’ve mentioned copious amounts of times on this blog in varying degrees, but this is the first time I’ll be writing an actual review for one of them on this platform.

The reason for this is myriad.

One, this fanfiction called All the Young Dudes is a far-cry from your normal standardized fanfiction of 5-50,000 words-something I can easily consume in a few minutes to a few hours.

Nope, this behemoth ends on a staggering 526,969 words and 188 chapters, not including bonus chapters and extra in-universe canonical content the author has also written and published. Roughly speaking, if this was actually published onto paper it would be well over 2,000 pages.

2,000 pages.

Yeah. And I enjoyed every single moment of it.

Two, while I read a lot of fanfiction I generally don’t put any of it on this blog because while I’ve dedicated it to published novels, I also usually have very simple feelings about fanfiction. My thoughts run the gambit of: It was good, it was fluffy, it was a train-wreck, so on and so forth.

Normally my reviews are so long and wordy because I have too many thoughts about the published books that I read and I need an outlet to let them loose.

Whether because of its longevity or because of its content, All the Young Dudes is a story I find myself having a profusion of thoughts for. Hence, the birth of this review.

If fanfiction isn’t your thing, feel free to skip this particular review of mine (although fanfiction is a gift to this world and you should really rethink your stance on it if you don’t like it, just saying).

Third, All the Young Dudes is well written and rivals any actual published content.

Fourth, because of how extensive this fanfiction is, it took me over a month to read it-time I generally would have been reading something else. Instead of leaving you all hanging for a few more weeks until I finish Firekeeper's Daughter (don’t hold your breath-the book is sort of a slog for me personally right now), I decided to just take the jump and write my first-ever typedwriter review for a fanfiction.

Fanfiction has been a part of my life for the better part of almost two decades now. It was truly something I found by accident and in retrospect, it’s insane to me that it’s still something that brings me continuous joy and happiness.

I discovered fanfiction when I was 11-years-old and deeply obsessed with the Harry Potter fandom.

Now, as an overall disclaimer I completely disagree with J.K. Rowling’s stances of gender and biology and differ wholeheartedly with her views of trans and non-binary individuals. With that said, I still love Harry Potter as a story and while I no longer buy anything that profits J.K. Rowling directly, I still love the fandom and the people in it, including fanworks like All the Young Dudes.

When I was 11, the seventh Harry Potter book had yet to come out and like many other people in this time period of agony while waiting for 2007 to roll around so that I could find out what happened, I discovered fanfiction as a way to fill in that ache I was so keenly feeling.

I found myself suddenly immersed in this world of online fiction-both good and bad-but completely entrancing all the same.

I never left.

That is to say, I did eventually move onto other fandoms with their own fanfiction cultures, but Harry Potter was still my first in terms of fanfiction and introducing me to the concept as a whole.

Specifically and maybe oddly, I never found myself curious for actual fanfiction about Harry or Hermione or Ron. In my mind, I already knew what had happened to them and reading about them in fanfiction was redundant.

In addition, the first fanfiction I just happened to come across was a Lily/James marauder era fanfiction on mugglenet.com

This idea immediately intrigued me as fans as a whole knew next to nothing about the infamous Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs and while I knew everything I needed to about Harry Potter it was intoxicating to think that I could learn about a time before the series had existed and about characters who were important, but off screen.

I was hooked and devoured as much as I could for most of middle school about the marauders and Lily and James’ romance in particular (I even wrote and published some of my own that will go unmentioned as they are truly really terrible).

That being said, I haven’t read a Harry Potter fanfiction in years. I grew up and out of the fandom eventually thanks to Twilight and from there I’ve bounced from fandom to fandom as I’ve aged and consumed different things and fallen in love with different characters and different worlds.

That isn’t to say I’ve forgotten though.

I still remember my favorite marauder stories, my favorite Sirius Black/OFC (original female character), and my favorite baby Harry drabbles. They made such a huge impression on me and even though it’s been sixteen years, I still recall those stories with fond nostalgia and jubilation.

Which is why it’s almost ironic that I would return to this particular time period of the marauders with All the Young Dudes.

In a fashion that’s almost scarily full circle, I happened to be on Youtube one day and saw a recommendation video about this girl reviewing a fanfiction called All the Young Dudes. Now, youtube book reviews aren’t uncommon, but a thirty minute video for a fanfiction? Not your typical sighting.

So out of pure curiosity, I searched All the Young Dudes fanfiction on Google and low and behold the overwhelming and top results were all for a marauder-era fanfiction by MsKingBean89. Piqued, I clicked on the link in ao3 and thought why not?

While I’ve mainly been reading in other fandoms recently (BTS, some anime and manga, All for the Game) I had been in a little bit of a slump for finding a really good, really alluring story for some time and really didn’t think I had anything to lose by reading All the Young Dudes, especially as the more research I did, the more I found how popular it was-a plethora of videos on youtube, tiktok compilations, and dozens of fanart posts.

Plus, it had been so long since I had read anything from my progenitor fandom and the thought of going back was strangely comforting.

Hence the journey of reading All the Young Dudes began and oh what a journey it was.

Now, that this review is already five pages in, I should probably tell you what on earth All the Young Dudes is actually about.

The whole story is a marauder-era fanfiction told from Remus Lupin’s POV from the summer of 1971 when Remus is 11-years-old to the summer of 1995 when he is 35-five-years-old. It is an in-depth portrayal of Remus’ time at Hogwarts from year one to year seven and then going all the way up to the start of the second wizarding world, ending around the time Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix begins.

While already the scope makes this a massive undertaking, the author also includes all canonical content from the original series involving Remus, the Marauders, and the time period and incorporates it into her fanfiction-making it canon compliant from start to finish.

While a very large portion of this story is not romantic, there is eventual WolfStar (Remus Lupin/Sirius Black) and if you have read the original Harry Potter series...well. You know things don't end up super dandy for these two characters in particular so you know how the story will end before it begins.

This fanfiction left me speechless for so many reasons.

The scope and length is frankly unbelievable. This fanfiction was published on March 2, 2017 and it was completed on November 12, 2018.

….how?

How did she manage that? I frankly have no idea, but I am in complete and utter awe at her ability to write content with such a magnitude and actually complete it. She gets an award just for that honestly.

Not only that, but the fanfiction is actually superbly well-written. I won’t lie and say it’s the most poignant and beautiful piece of literature I’ve ever consumed, but it was consistent in its pacing, characterization, themes, motifs, and structure, which, for 2,000 pages, is an incredible achievement when you think about it.

Speaking of characterization, everyone was So. Well. Done.

Remus was such an interesting POV to read from and while he was compliant in every sense of the word-werewolf, prefect, bookish-MsKingBean89 added so much more to his character and fleshed him out so incredibly that it’s truly tragic that he’s not a real person.

And to that extent, she does this with all of the characters. You see James’ optimism and leadership, Sirius’ arrogance and loyalty, Peter’s jealousy and chess skills.

Every character was so well-rounded and real. She did an incredible job of taking the bits and pieces from the canon series and using that to build up her own flesh and blood people with motivations, likes, dislikes, dreams, and desires.

That being said, she also had 2,000 pages to do it sooooooo it would be bad if the characters weren’t fleshed out by the end honestly.

In addition, I really appreciated that she didn’t just focus on Remus, Sirius, James and Peter. Lily Evans played a critical role in Remus’ school life and after and so did the other Gryffindor girls like Marlene and Mary.

Too often, the focus is on the boys and their close friendship and while that was a huge focus, we also get to see Remus develop friendships with the girls in his own right and other friends as well that were often OC’s of the author’s.

Now. OC’s are generally something I dislike. I’m reading fanfiction to read about particular characters that I’ve sought after, not to read about some imaginary cast. However, just like any of the canon characters, all of the OC characters were well-developed and played crucial roles in Remus’ development-while either at Hogwarts or after-and I found myself not minding them in the least. In a few cases (Grant) I actually really loved them.

The biggest draw for this fanfiction for me was Remus’ time at Hogwarts. It was so well-written and incredibly descriptive and I found myself thrust back into the world of magic so suddenly and seamlessly that it was like I never left.

MsKingBean89 includes so many intricate details and builds up the world so beautifully that I’d recommend any Harry Potter fan to consume it, just to get some good Hogwarts material out of it.

Another thing I greatly appreciate about this fanfiction was the slow burn. I’ve read slow burn before (All for the Game trilogy anybody?), but this truly took the cake. Sirius and Remus don’t properly get together until the end of year six going into year seven. That’s over 100 chapters in.

100 chapters out of 188.

Meaning that over half of this beast doesn’t have the main pairing even together. For some people, this could be a drawback. You might think to yourself: It takes how long for them to confess their feelings and stop being prats?

A very, very long time.

However...it didn’t bug me. I like slow burn to begin with, but being along for the ride as Remus goes from being a child to an adolescent with unrequited feelings to being in a relationship with someone he loves is so rewarding and fulfilling that the 100 previous chapters are completely and utterly worth it.

MsKingBean89 develops them so well and so carefully that the payoff is so sweet and satisfactory that it's enough to bring the tears right then and there.

The last huge feat of this fanfiction for me was the author’s dedication to canon not just confined to Hogwarts and the Harry Potter books, but also to the time period. Either she lived through the 70’s and 80’s herself or she had done her due diligence when it comes to research because anything from London anti-gay laws to British slang was commonplace in her fic.

I found it completely amazing how she was able to tie in real-time historical and cultural moments like famous singers and movies playing at the time alongside convoluted muggle politics warring with the wizarding ones.

I was so blown away by the accuracy and genuine love behind this fic that it often brought me out of my own mind to simply ponder once again how much work this was and how well she was delivering it.

Even unpleasant things, like homophobia and bigotry, are dealt with in a very carefully constructed way that is aligned with the time period in which the story takes place.

Unfortunately, everything beautiful is not without flaws and All the Young Dudes is not the exception, although it’s flaws are nary compared to its achievements.

The few complaints I have with this fic are honestly quite negligible.

First, there are a few grammatical and punctuation errors. Very few, but I did notice some.

Next, and again, this complaint is really just me whining, but...the end of the fic was really fucking sad. The end of this whole story took me so much time to complete simply because I didn’t want to read it.

I know what happened during the first wizarding war and I also know what ended it (James and Lily Potter dying, Harry being shipped off to the Dursley’s, Sirius imprisoned for a murder he didn’t commit, Peter presumed dead) and in one fell swoop Remus lost everything and everyone he ever loved.

After spending over 1,500 pages of Remus growing to love these people it is absolutely devastating and heart-breaking to see him lose it all.

The last handful of chapters are just really, really sad and it makes me wonder why MsKingBean89 decided to write it in the first place. Frankly, I don't know why she didn't write about Remus’ time at Hogwarts and stop after graduation because we all know what happens after that and none of it is good.

Looking back, I wish I could time travel and tell myself to stop at chapter 150. I truly didn’t need to read about the tragedies that happened after that and the hell that all of the characters go through.

And while it does end on a….sort of kind of maybe positive (?) note with Sirius and Remus reuniting briefly once the events of Harry Potter and Prisoner of Azkaban take place, it was really tainted and bittersweet for me knowing that in a year Sirius would die and Remus would marry his fucking cousin and have a child.

Urgh.

I just can’t.

That being said, I understand it’s not the author’s fault and I’m not saying it is. She wrote a canon compliant fic to the end and it was my choice to continue reading. That being said, she said she ended it before the events of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix because Sirius and Remus are happy and back together and she didn’t want to write what was coming next if she continued.

I truly, truly get that.

But in the same vein, why even write the events of the first wizarding world to begin with then? I’m confused with that response as it doesn’t make much sense to me. I felt like ending it right then and there was not a happy ending. They’re together, yes, but at this point they are both shells of who they used to be. Both have severe trauma and PTSD and frankly I don’t even know if I agree with them being together just because they’ve put each other through so much.

It’s just an interesting choice at the end of the day in terms of the author.

Once again, however, I truly understand that she can do whatever she wants and that she doesn’t owe anyone anything, especially as she’s writing this for free and just because. So please keep in mind that although I’m complaining, I truly understand how fortunate we are to even have this fic in the first place.

Okay.

Secondly, my only other huge complaint is that MsKingBean89 made Remus gay. Not bi, not pan. Gay.

You could argue that Remus just calls himself gay in the fanficiton as he didn’t know about other kinds of sexuality. You could argue that Remus’ sexuality changes and develops as he ages and experiences trials and tribulations. You could argue that it was a sign of times like so much else in this fic.

I frankly just found it to be a frustrating choice as the fic is canon compliant and even though it ends before the events of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows we know that Remus eventually marries Tonks and has a baby son named Teddy Lupin.

How does that make sense?

I tried very, very hard to come up with some sort of feasible explanation for how a gay man would have ended up with the love of his life’s female cousin and truly could not think of one that was not fucked up to some degree.

Again. I know I’m being nit-picky, but it irked me that she made this choice regarding Remus’ sexuality and essentially ended her fic with Remus stuck in a corner regarding how the series actually ends.

At the end of the day, all of the negatives are truly, truly not important. I’m just whinging to whine and to express my thoughts, but I do once again understand that MsKingBean89 isn’t profiting from this fic and that she can do what she wants as is her prerogative.

I hope I was able to express that while I understand that, I can still be frustrated with some of the choices she made.

To wrap this all up, All the Young Dudes is a masterpiece and is a must-read for anyone who loves Harry Potter, the Marauders, or Wolfstar. I was blown away by the sheer magnitude, the love and care she put into her craft, the slow and deliberate development of all the characters, the beautifully constructed love between Sirius and Remus, and the intricate world-both muggle and magic-that surrounded the story like a cocoon.

I am so happy I found this fic and I truthfully am floundering at what to do with myself next. If you have any more current Marauder era fics that I’ve missed out in the past eleven years, please don’t hesitate to let me know.

Recommendation: Go read All the Young Dudes. For weeks, you will cry, you will laugh, you will despair, and you will smile. This fanfiction will make you wish this was canon and in my mind, it now is.

Score: 8/10

Links:

1. All the Young Dudes on ao3

2. The Youtube Video about All the Young Dudes that made me aware of its existence

#all the young dudes #wolfstar #Harry Potter #fanfiction #harry potter fanfic rec #marauders #book review #Book Recommendations #fanfiction recs #fanfiction review #wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar fanart

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