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erideights · 8 months

Text

Little pieces here and there (2)

Pairing: Buggy x Fem!Reader (One Piece Live Action)

Chapters: one, three, four, five

Word Count: 2K

Warnings: Flirting, suggestive flirting, heavy pinning

A/N: GUYS THIS CHAPTER HAS ME ON THE FLOOR, I HOPE YOU ENJOY, THANKS FOR YOUR PATIENCE and if you like it let me know to start preparing part 3 ♡ (sorry for any grammatical mistake!)

"The One Piece will never be yours!" He shouted angrily, that -now- dwarf with a red nose, giant hands and feet, when he was defeated. Just like in a cartoon for kids.

"You're just a sad, lonely little boy wearing another man's hat!" She could not understand how it was possible that this intimidating, psychopathic, eccentric clown had turn around so quickly into this little thing that was so... dare she say pathetic, but she didn't wanna be too cruel to him.

The moment Luffy declared his intentions again, Buggy began to look around him, desperate for a way to escape, maybe one of his crew members who would miraculously come to the rescue, or an unexpected ally. Like (Y/N).

"Wo wo wo wo, no no no no, wait wait!"

He opened his mouth and begged, probably to suggest some kind of pact, to promise (Y/N) a place among his crew like he did with Luffy before, but before he could say anything else, the rubber boy already threw him into the sky.

And that was the last time she thought she would see Buggy The Clown. Little did she know, she was wrong.

Oh, so wrong.

Let's say that the days to come were anything but calm. From the Kuro Incident™, at least they won Usopp's friendship and the Going Merry, one of the cutest ships she has ever seen, to be fair.

And then they arrived at the Baratie, where they met the oh, so attentive Sanji, Zoro was about to die, and Nami... Nami left with the fishmen. Although (Y/N) was on Luffy and Sanji's side when they claimed something bad was actually happening, because she wouldn't have chosen to leave with them just like that, without a hidden, ugly reason behind. Didn't fit in with the idea she had of the ginger.

"I know someone who knows where to find her," says her "captain" when they all discuss their next step.

"Hello boys!" Buggy's head coughs and exclaims in the most forced, sarcastic way possible. Imagine threatening to kill those people after kidnapping them less than a week ago, and now your life depends on them. Low blow, if someone asked her. "Sweetheart." He then smirked devilishly when he saw (Y/N) a little further back, resting her side on the kitchen counter. Surprised to see him and the way he calls her, she raises an eyebrow and gives a small, amused smile. "Hello Buggy."

"Arg, Doll! I'm so happy to see a beautiful face like yours around here." The clown shouts when (Y/N) comes out on deck after several hours organizing the pantries with Sanji. She looks at him out of the corner of her eye with a little smile on her lips when she leaves a snack for Usopp and goes towards the bow of the ship or, in fewer words = in the opposite direction to where her mere existence is spiritually needed. The clown is already tired of giving Usopp directions after all morning arguing where to go, so infatuated and hypnotized by the mysterious aura that surrounds the woman, he doesn’t give up, and his head floats in the direction of the girl, following her, resting right by her side as she sits on the ground, legs falling over the ship's railing and out to the sea.

"Pretty sure you didn't hear me back there" because the idea of someone ignoring him was unthinkable. A war crime. An insult to God itself. He was still Buggy The Clown, The Flashy Fool, even without his crew. Or his ship. Or his body. Fucking hell, what did he have left apart from the head? "I was saying I'm glad I'm not only surrounded by idiots. Having your beautiful face around here makes standing them much easier." He flirts, winking an eye, which (Y/N) doesn't fully get but finds kinda interesting. "We had a moment the other day, right? It wasn't just my imagination, I know it."

"Yeah, we totally had a moment" She agrees, clearly being sarcastic to everyone but him. "You kidnapped us, you called me pretty, you searched me, I threatened you, you liked it..." she lists, lying her back on the deck, arms raised, own head resting on her hands, enjoying the breeze, the sun, and the smell of the salty water.

"I loved it," he corrects her after emitting a little grunt of satisfaction, vividly remembering that scene. What would he not give to go back and enjoy it a little bit more before the rest of her crew ruined his entire day -week- so blatantly and unnecessarily over the top.

"You're welcome. Any time." She answers after an amused giggle, eyes closed.

"Don't tempt me."

"Now tell me," Buggy resumes the conversation after about 30 seconds of silence. He clearly doesn't know how to enjoy it. He is that type of person for whom silence not only makes him uncomfortable, but also terrifies him. Theatre kid. "What's a woman like you doing with a bunch of insufferable kids like them? I know they're trying to organize their boy band and go on adventures around the world, but you... you should look for someone more suitable to your needs, capable of giving you different stimuli. More mature." He adds in the end with a low, seductive tone of voice, shamelessly feeding on the image of the curve of her body now that she's not paying visual attention to him.

"Hmhm. Maybe I'll look for them." She answers nonchalantly, just because. She finds really entertaining this type of tug-flirting-war. Even if he's the only one that flirts and she just gives him opportunities to do so.

"You don't have to look too far." He was so cliché, how cute.

"You talk too much to be no more than a floating head."

"I could always put my tongue to better use." Snapping her eyes open, (Y/N) holds her breath for a second, taking in what she just heard = what he just offered. That would be, literally, giving head. In all the glorious sense of the expression. Raising both eyebrows, she turns her face on the ground to observe him, nibbling at her lower lip. She seems to consider it for a few seconds, because no, she cannot deny how interesting and, at the same time, weird, degenerate, the idea is. But before he has the opportunity to keep talking his way into convincing her, she breaks into a cruel smile and decides to cut his mood "You mean like guiding us to the Konomi islands instead of talking with me? You're right, you should get back to work."

He looks at her like he was just betrayed by his second in command, hoping she would agree by the expression on her face seconds ago, the way she looked at him and how she was biting her own lip in that tortuous way that pushed him to want -need- to do it by himself.

"Wait, no need to play difficult with me sweetheart, I--" But it's too late, (Y/N) is already standing, grabbing Buggy's head between her hands, and before he could add anything else, she winks at him, kiss one of his cheeks, screams at the top of his lungs "USOPP!! CATCH HIM!" and throws his head like she was playing volleyball, Usopp jumping to be able to reach him, both of them celebrating the pass like children, ignoring Buggy's complaints.

The third time he flirts -tries to- with her, she's back on the deck, helping Zoro and Sanji moving some things around. He begins to scream desperately, and knowing damn well that if no one pays attention to him he won't stop even if that means losing his voice, she approaches, hands on her hips, sighing as she looks at him like someone that is about to regret getting close to a crying, annoying child. "What's wrong with you?" she asks dryly, pressing her lips together. "Ah, my guardian angel. Could you do me the favor of scratching me behind my ear?" Oh. A waaay more harmless request than she expected. Of course, she relents, because she sees nothing wrong with this small favor; she’s quite the empathetic, and in his place she would surely prefer to jump headfirst -ba dum tss- into the sea rather than suffer that itch and not be able to scratch it. After granting his wish, just as she is about to leave, Buggy moves his head much faster than anyone would predict, to catch one of the girl's fingers in his mouth and suck and lick and nibble, in a… God, a sample of what he could do with his tongue somewhere else.

A shiver runs down (Y/N)'s spine, and it reaches a pleasurable end between her legs, causing her to press them together as she inhales deeply.

"Wanna see what else I can do?" He whispers as he releases her. She can hear him over the crash of the waves against the hull of the boat, eyes fixed on his face, will to complain nowhere to be seen. Bold, not in a hundred years she would have expected that. And for a moment, she is tempted. That has been undeniably attractive. And it had a really strong effect on her. "I would gladly show you if you let me, you just have to ask, sugar lips. I bet it's been a damn long time you don't treat yourself--"

"(Y/N)!!" Zoro calls her, instantly exploding the bubble between Buggy and her.

She sighs in relief because only God knows she was close to give up. Then swallows, shakes her head exaggeratedly to shake herself out of his spell, and, licking her lips, gives the clown a mischievous smile, recomposing herself. "Nice try"

"Stop trying to deny the obvious" He tried again for the... 5th time? She /really/ lost count during their journey. Appearing from nowhere, he startled her in the process. He was now in a shelf of the kitchen, at the same height as the girl's face. "The chemistry between us is unbearable, you can see it from miles away." Jumping to approach the edge of the shelf, his eyes look her up and down. "Turns me on how you play hard to get because I don't like easy things either, so I respect your game," he nods, raising an eyebrow "But come on... I know you like me. I've seen how you look at me or bite your lip when I flirt with you, you have nothing to be ashamed of."

This whole thing was really trying her patience. Not because she wanted to fuck him off, but because she knows that all that flirting would end with her giving in and doing something she certainly shouldn't. As of for now, he had gotten her to vaguely consider it, and she had to admit, she was growing some kind of attraction slash fondness slash crush for him, but it wasn't enough to fall to her knees.

He wanted war, tho? He would have it.

"You're right, I like you, but you know, I like my men body and all, capable of grabbing me by the hips and pushing me on theirs, to fuck me and make me scream their name until I lose my voice. To make it difficult for me to walk straight the day after." she whispers, approaching him slowly until they share the same air, her nose touching his red one. (Y/N) closes her eyes, taking a deep breath as her tongue caresses her own lips, almost touching the clown’s ones too. Yes, she likes him, she has some sort of twisted soft spot for men who ranged from intimidating psychopath to the most pathetic human being depending on the day, and Buggy was the perfect example for that. "And you..." she tilts her head to the side, attempting to close the distance between each other and kiss him, but at the last second she withdraws, leaving the poor clown with his eyes closed, waiting for the touch of her dreamy lips. "Unfortunately you're just a head."

"Try again when you get your whole body back!"

#buggy the clown #buggy x reader #buggy one piece #buggy the clown fanfiction #buggy x you #op buggy #one piece x reader #one piece live action #captain buggy

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ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused · 7 months

Note

I have request for Spencer Reid x Plus size fem!reader. Maybe her and Spencer are good friends and she gets stood up on a date or her date leaves after seeing her and Spencer swoops in and love confession.

p.s I love you work. <3

༉‧₊˚. 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 || 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

― pairing: spencer reid x plus size!reader

― summary: admitting that you got stood up on a date would be like admitting defeat, too bad spencer's too good of a best friend to let you go through this alone, even if he was the last person you wanted to see.

― warnings: best friends to lovers, getting stood up on dates, a red flag named chris (sorry to all the chris' out there), mutual pining, requited love, love confessions, and implied dates!

― wc: 1457

⋆ a/n: OH, MY GOODNESS IT'S BEEN SO LONG SINCE I'VE WRITTEN AN ACTUAL ONESHOT. i got hit with a random bout of inspiration out of nowhere and i have a bunch of fanfics that already have banners made but they're unwritten and rotting in my drafts so i'm trying to clean them out first. thank you for this and i hope you enjoy some best friend!spencer reid!!

masterlist | AO3

Leave it up to you to be stood up on a date you didn’t even want to go on.

You were even looking for anything with anything else, you just needed a distraction, you needed anything that would help you move on from him. It wasn’t Spencer’s fault that you were in love with him – well, it actually kind of is – but that’s beside the point.

There was no way you could continue to sit there and allow yourself to wallow in self-pity over the fact that your feelings for your longtime best friend weren’t reciprocated. You were a grown woman for God’s sakes! And as a grown woman, it was up to you to make grown up decisions. One phone call to Derek was all it took for you to get hooked up with some dude that he knew.

“He’s a good guy,” He said.

Yeah, right. Good guy your ass.

Not only did you look stupid, but you were left stranded in a sports bar surrounded by a bunch of strangers – no, scratch that! Almost all of the patrons in this bar tonight were men, it was football season. You were practically asking to get murdered! What kind of FBI agent would you be if you allowed yourself to be murdered over the fact that some guy’s team lost.

With a sigh, you gazed at your chat between Chris and you. You had sent him a text thirty minutes ago asking where he was when he was ten minutes late, but even that message had been left unread.

The only reason why you were still here was because you were oh so painfully embarrassed, and you hoped that others around you couldn’t tell that there was supposed to be a second person joining you at your very barren booth that you had somehow managed to score.

Now that you think about it, how in the hell had you allowed this man to talk you into going to a sports bar instead of oh, I don’t know, a restraunt with a calm, and comfortable atmosphere?

Maybe it was the fact that the only person’s face you could see in your mind as you discussed where you were going to go together was Spencer’s. As ashamed as you were to admit, you mostly imagined a disappointed look on his face when he realized you were going out with someone else, but even you knew that was damn near impossible.

It wasn’t your failed date that was the shit show – even though it is a close second – it was you that was the main attraction. How could you have allowed yourself to be this childish? You weren’t in high school anymore, and you hadn’t been in some years, but old habits die hard, you guess?

It didn’t have to be common knowledge to tell that your romantic life when you were in school was very, very sad. You often found yourself alone on most weekends, ample amount of time to study right under your fingertips. You figured that when you had gotten older things would have gotten better but… nope.

You didn’t know who to call.

Would you call Derek and blame him? No, he couldn’t have known, but you could totally get him to beat Chris’ ass. The thought of your favorite and very muscular chocolate thunder roughing the piece of shit up helped to easy your nerves, badly enough. There was just one person you couldn’t bring yourself to call, and that was Spencer.

Calling Spencer meant that you were giving up, that you were waving the white flag, that you were still in love with him and no number of blind dates, good or bad, could change that.

You bit the inside of your cheek in thought, at least you had dressed up in something comfortable.

“Can I sit here?” You heard someone ask over the bustling noise of the bar.

“Honestly, you can just have the thi–” You spoke without looking up, but when you did, your words died in your throat.

There Spencer stood in his full glory; tall, lanky, nerdy, and extremely uncomfortable, but nonetheless, he slid into the sticky seat across from you with an awkward smile.

“Spence? What are you doing here?” You asked in shock, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“I uh- Morgan called me. He said that Chris told him to tell you something came up, but I uh- I figured that wasn’t true.” He explained sympathetically. You scoffed, your body slouching along with the noise. “Yeah, no shit.” Your words were bitter and harsh, which caused you to squeeze your eyes shut.

“Fuck, Spence. I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to talk to you like that, I’m just… frustrated.”

He reached out his hand, albeit reluctantly seeing as though the table was in the same state as the seat, maybe even a bit worse. You looked down at it then at him before relenting, your full hand slipping into his lithe one perfectly, as if it belonged there.

The fact that this felt so right made your stomach twist sickeningly, fingerings twitching in desperation to pull away. You swallowed the lump in your throat and forced yourself to stay. You did not have the mental compacity to dig yourself out of another hole.

“No, it’s okay. I understand.” He reassured, his thumb caressing the back of your knuckles gently. “I came as soon as he called,” He then looked around, “Especially after he told me where you were.” You laughed a bit at his concern, your body feeling lighter as it finally straightened.

A soft grin graced your features.

“Thank you, Spence. Really. I know how uncomfortable these kinds of places make you. I just- I really thought tonight was going to go differently.” I thought that things between us were going to go differently, is what you really meant.

“I’m sorry, I know you liked him.”

You grimaced at the word ‘liked.’

“I think ‘liked’ would be the last word I would use to describe how I feel for Chris.”

It was his turn for his eyebrows to furrow. “What do you mean.”

You huffed. “What I meant was that I didn’t even want to go on this stupid fucking date anyways, but I had too… I had too…” You allowed your words to trail off when you had caught yourself about to admit something you had fought years to keep under wraps.

“You had to what?”

Goddamn him and his never-ending curiosity.

“Just leave it alone, please?” You pleaded. You looked up at him from beneath your eyelashes, your gaze soft and vulnerable. “Okay.”

A silence – what was an equivalent to silence – settled over the both of you. The air was thick with unspoken words and feelings, an invisible line was drawn that the two of you were too scared to cross.

“I would’ve never stood you up, you know.” Spencer piped up quietly, his grip that had gone limp in yours tightening. “What?” Your breath hitched. “And I would’ve taken you to someplace nicer than this.” His voice was shaky and forceful, as if he was forcing himself speak in fear that if he didn’t, he wouldn’t say anything at all.

“What are you saying?” You were breathless, the butterflies that fluttered around in your gut making you nauseous. Hope bloomed at a dangerous rate in your chest.

“What I’m saying is that if I were to take you out on a date, it would be a lot better than this.” He had finally gotten the courage to raise his gaze instead of focusing on where your hands were interlaced. “I would take you anywhere you wanted to go, then I would try my best to make it memorable for you because I…” He gulped. “Because I love you.”

Your ears were ringing. There was sweat beginning to form on your hairline.

“You’re being serious?” The question sounded more like a plea. “Because if you’re saying this because you feel bad, I-” He cut you off. “I don’t feel bad.” He lowered his head to where yours was in an attempt to connect your gazes deeper.

“I really do love you. I- I have for a long time.” Spencer confessed.

You breathed out a sigh of relief. “Thank God.” You said through a wobbly smile. His smile matched yours. You could feel the fact that both of your hands were extremely clammy with nerves, but none of you could find it within yourself to care.

“Can I cash in that date now?”

“Now?” He asked incredulously, lifting his free arm to check the time on his wrist. “It’s pretty late.”

You gave his hand a squeeze.

“I’m pretty sure we can figure that out.”

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @murdadixon @hallecarey1 @zippertwat @alixwriter

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littlemissfiore · 8 months

Text

Plan Failed!

prompt: your crush starts dating someone else. in a vain attempt to catch their attention, you device a plan with your friend to make them jealous. although, it seems your plan has failed, now it's up to your friends to pick up the pieces.

pairing: monster trio + usopp x gn!reader [modern au] [college au]

note: i was bored lmao (this is unedited)

Monkey D. Luffy:

"Let's just get something to eat! I'm getting hungry!" whined Luffy. You sent a glare his way, hoping he wasn't blowing your cover.

Luffy stared at you unamused, watching you look over at your crush flirt with someone else. He was getting tired of your antics, you were letting him starve just so you can ogle at your crush.

Luffy knew about your plan and was more than willing to help. The plan was simple, right? Make your crush jealous by having them think you're making moves on Luffy. Then, once they realize what they are missing out on, you and your crush date and Luffy gets to go his own way.

If only it was as simple as Luffy made it out to be. This little scheme of yours was lasting a little too long. Your crush never paid attention to you, and when he did, it was half-assed. Only asking for the answers to the homework or if you could help them work out a question on an assignment in class.

You always seemed to take these interactions as a victory, but not even Luffy is this dense. He was well aware your crush did not reciprocate your feelings but you would refuse to listen to him.

"Shut up! You don't know anything about romance!" you yelled at him, your face growing hot with embarrassment.

Luffy? Not knowing about romance? Of course he knew what it was. Two people like each other, go on dates and kiss, it was simple, right?

Luffy sometimes wanted to kiss you, was that romance? You two were already going on-unofficial-dates and hanging around each other more than usual.

The both of you were always together one way or another. You would invite Luffy out for lunch after class. He would stay in campus at night, waiting for you to finish your night classes. You were both in the same friend group. Luffy already knew what you liked and disliked; hell, he's met your family before that bonehead had the chance to.

What did that meathead have that was so special about them? Unlike them, Luffy would do his homework, even if the answers were wrong. He would never ask you for the answers, instead choosing to spend quality time with you teaching him the material outside of class.

Plus, Luffy liked you. You didn't need a convoluted plan to catch his attention, you already had it.

You let out a defeated sigh, "This plan isn't gonna work is it?" you asked, looking for confirmation.

"Nope!" Luffy said bluntly.

Even though his response hurt you, you knew Luffy was just being honest with you. It was a trait you admired in him, it was much better than having him feed into your delusions.

Luffy noticed a shift in your behavior now becoming a sad one. Coming to the realization that your crush did not reciprocate the same feelings you had. You were planning on going home and crying your heart out, it felt like the only thing to do. Although, Luffy had other plans. He grabbed you by the hand, leading you away from campus.

"W-where are you taking me?" you stuttered, tryin to keep up with Luffy's pace.

He only turn to look at you, giving you that wide grin you absolutely adored. "I'm taking you out to eat, my treat!" was the only thing Luffy responded with.

You felt warm inside knowing that Luffy was doing his best to try and make you feel better. Maybe it was for the best your crush didn't reciprocate your feelings. Why?

Because you felt yourself becoming flustered at the realization that Luffy has been holding your hand the entire walk to the restaurant.

Roronoa Zoro:

Zoro watched you mop around in your seat, watching your crush flirt with another person. Even with all the efforts you and Zoro went through to get your crush jealous all ended up in failures. Zoro was not one to shy you away from the truth, he told you in the beginning this plan was not going to work.

Now, here you were, trying to drink your pain away. Zoro was the last person you'd imagine to tell someone to stop drinking. Although, this was different, you looked pathetic being all mopey over some dumbass.

Zoro didn't understand you at all. How can you be sad over that piece of shit? If you asked him, he wasn't even worth your time. Actually, don't ask him that, Zoro would never admit it. He was too stubborn to tell you anything other than "I told you so".

It was a bad idea to come to this party, it was supposed to be fun but you were having an awful time. Zoro could be out enjoying his time drinking with his friends, but he choose to stay by your side instead.

"You know you're not obligated to stay with me, right?" you sniffled, rubbing your nose with the sleeve of your sweater. "You can be with your friends..."

Zoro would've ignored your comment but he was surprised you were crying. Are you seriously crying over your crush? Somebody who could care less about your feelings? That guy didn't even know you were in the same class as him.

"S-stop crying!" exclaimed Zoro. He didn't know how to deal with emotional people, especially when they were crying.

"But it hurts!" you cried, rubbing your tears away.

Zoro felt anger running through his veins, aggravated by the thought of you crying over that jackass. Stop crying, thought Zoro. Why were you crying over your crush when you had Zoro right there.

"You need to get over it!" spat Zoro, his words coming out rather harshly. He didn't mean to make you feel worse, but he was not going to hide you from the truth. "That jackass is over there making out with someone else and you're here moping like if he even knew you!"

You felt crushed but Zoro continued, "Know your worth! Realize just how cool you are, you were willing to let a loser like him be your boyfriend? Toughen up and find someone who will actually give a shit about you like I do!"

Zoro realized the words that had just come out of his mouth. Did he just give you a borderline confession? No, there was no way Zoro had any feelings for his friend.

Zoro saw how you became flustered, "Don't take that in a weird way!" he was quick to add before downing his beer.

Zoro tried his best to ignore the situation that unfolded. Where did that all come from? There was no way those fake dates and hand holding could've made him fall for you. It wasn't real, it was all an attempt to make your crush jealous; but, Zoro couldn't deny that he felt a little warm on the inside when he thought about being official with you.

Vinsmoke Sanji:

You were mindlessly going through Sanji's TV, looking for something to watch and ease your brain. At first, Sanji was surprised when you showed up to his house unannounced with a somber expression. You told him you would be with your crush on a so called "study date". It wasn't a real date but you thought it was a step closer to victory to name it one.

"The study session was cancelled," you muttered, dropping yourself on Sanji's couch. "Said he couldn't make it and then I saw him making out with someone else in another part of campus. Amazing, right?"

You looked miserable, your eyes were red and puffy. You had been crying as you made your way to Sanji's house.

Sanji wasted no time comforting, "Let me make you something to eat, hopefully you'll feel a lot better," he said, heading to the kitchen.

Sanji couldn't understand how someone could do that to you. You were cute, passionate and smart, traits Sanji admired since the first time you two met in class. He wished he got to have half the attention that you gave to your crush.

Sanji was already aware of his growing feelings for you but he choose to keep quiet. Before he had known he grew so fond of you, Sanji had already agreed to your plan. Others would call it a bad decision on his end, you would hold his hand and take him on 'dates'. It didn't make his situation any better, seeing how he fell even harder

Yet, Sanji would refuse to tell you about his feelings. You had your eyes on somebody else and he respected your decision, even if it would hurt him.

"Here you go," Sanji laid the plate in front of you. "Don't cry too much while eating, it'll make it taste saltier."

You have him a tired giggle but it was immediately replaced with a sad expression. Sanji knew what had happened earlier hurt you a lot.

"Sanji..." you started, snapping Sanji out of his daze. "Do you think I'm beautiful?"

"W-what?" Sanji was baffled by your question.

You looked ashamed of yourself but you repeated your question. "Do you think I'm beautiful...?"

What kind of question is that? Does Sanji think you're beautiful? Beautiful is just one of the many words he would use to describe how you look to him. He could spend hours writing letters on your beauty alone, of course you were pretty. How could Sanji explain to you how fast his heart beats every time he sees you? How he wished you looked at him with the same adoration you look at your crush.

Sanji knew he would be crossing his boundaries, but he felt you needed to know. He cupped both of your cheeks, giving you a compassionate look. You felt yourself becoming flustered with how intimate his touch felt.

"You are the most beautiful person I have ever laid my eyes upon, darling," said Sanji.

He truly meant it. All those fake dates would pale in comparison to what he could truly offer you. You felt yourself lean in closer to Sanji, closing the gap between your lips and his.

If you let him, Sanji would make you the happiest person on earth.

Usopp:

"What if we egg his house?" suggested Usopp.

Curse him and his mouth, now you were adamant in putting his idea to work. Usopp didn't have this feeling when he was hyping you up and while both of you walked to your crush's house. Now that he was physically there, Usopp could feel his legs shaking, he wanted nothing more than to run to the hills.

"Are you ready!?" you exclaimed with eggs already in your hands. "Here!"

You handed Usopp the eggs so he could join you. Even though it was dark and nobody could see you, Usopp was scared. He felt like the police was watching the both of you, ready to arrest you. He didn't know why he would ever come up with this idea. If he was being honest, Usopp thought you would reject it, opting instead in taking the high road.

"Yes, that's a perfect idea!" you exclaimed, getting your sweater.

Usopp saw how awful you felt after being ditched by your crush who asked you out on a 'date". He felt happy for you that the plan worked but also crushed. It meant you would no longer be able to hang out with him like you used to. You wouldn't be able to hold his hand or invite him out to places. Instead of being 'dating' Usopp, you'd be dating your crush.

When he saw you down in the dumps, Usopp felt rage. You tried so hard to get your crush's attention just so he could blow you off? Usopp would trade places with your crush if he could, he was insane.

What was even more insane was the fact that you were ready to throw the first egg.

"Wait!" whispered Usopp, looking around nervously. "Are you sure about this?"

You frowned, "Usopp, this man ditched me, giving me false hope!" you didn't hesitate to throw the egg which landed on the window. "If you ask me, he deserves it!"

You're right. He does deserve it. He deserves it for making you cry, for giving you false hope, but most importantly, for ruining his chances with you. Usopp could feel his legs shaking but he decided to ignore the nervous feeling pooling inside his stomach. He took a deep breathe and threw the egg and it landed on his roof.

"Woo-!"

You covered Usopp's mouth to try and not draw attention, but both of you started giggling. The both of you continued to throw eggs, almost finishing the carton of eggs. Before you could throw the last two eggs, the lights inside your crush's house turned on.

"Who is that!" you can hear their yelling from the inside even though it's muffled.

Usopp did not hesitate to grab your hand, sprinting away from the premises. You were stumbling a little, trying to catch up to his speed but you were trying to hold in your laughter. You two were this close to getting caught, but to Usopp it was worth it. You were smiling and having fun, it always made his day when you were happy. If only he would be able to confess to you. He was a coward, constantly needing hype from his friends to even try and think of confessing to you.

But maybe one day, Usopp would gain enough courage to confess to you and ask you out on a proper date instead of a fake one.

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stinkysam · 2 months

Text

Lucifer Morningstar - Past.

Warning : none

Genre : angst

Synopsis : “Lucifer discovers why you're in hell.”

Reader : he/you

A/N : haven't written anything in months so I'm a bit ugh rusty hope it's good !

Lucifer didn't know how you landed in hell and he often wondered about it.

After all, you were one of the nicest soul he met and nothing in your behavior or stories about your life on earth explained anything about it.

So to him, you simply must've done a little thing that didn't please heaven. Heaven could be really strict with their rules.

But you were on the path to redemption ! You stayed at Charlie's hotel to redeem yourself from whatever small harm you did on earth. And if Charlie's plan works, you would go right where you belong, in heaven.

Easy peasy lemon squeezy !

Sure, Lucifer would miss you, and be sad to not have you around anymore, but if it's heaven you want, then who is he to stop you from getting it. You deserve it, he's sure of that.

He even had prepared a duck that looks just like him, for you, so you don’t forget him once you're in the sky. And one for him, that looks just like you, so he'd never forget about you. Not that it would ever happen.

He was so excited he even told you about it one day as you visited his place, but hadn't shown you the duckies in question, claiming you could only see them the day you would leave for heaven.

You leaned forward and wrapped your arms around him, kissing his cheek, trying to peek over his shoulder and into his office to spot them. But he quickly realized what you were doing and kicked the door closed with his foot, his arms holding you close against him.

You laughed, squeezing him tightly as he did the same thing, both trying to knock the wind out of each other's lungs for fun.

“You can't win.” He said with a wheeze, squeezing you harder.

You had to tap his shoulder to get him to stop, admitting your defeat with a sigh, relieved to not have crushed ribs.

You kissed his forehead as Lucifer looked proudly at you.

“You still can't see them.” He pointed and you grimaced with a groan.

Lucifer loves you, truly. It had taken time and patience but now he was sure of it and confident in his feelings for you. He looked at you smugly, his pointy teeth showing as placed his hand on the small of your back, making you walk with him.

Since he had rekindled with his daughter, he would come unannounced to visit her and get updates on how things are going. Trying his best to avoid Alastor who seemed to enjoy having him here. Only to get under his skin each time he had the occasion.

When he wasn't annoying him about Charlie, it was about you. And today seemed to be about you.

“I know something you don't.” The radio demon smiled, tilting his head to the side pointing toward you. But the king of hell didn't seem to notice.

“Ah ?” Lucifer’s eyebrows rose, not that he was particularly interested. “And what makes you think I-”

“About [Name].” Cut him off Alastor with a sing-song voice as he approached you at the bar. At Lucifer’s silence, the demon continued. “I know why he is in hell ~” He wrapped an arm around you, his claws like fingers almost planting in your shoulder.

You turned around to look at Alastor, confused and nervous. He wasn't… going to tell him, right ? But Alastor turned you so you would face Lucifer.

Lucifer wanted to respond that he didn't care what you did, he knew you and knew you did nothing horrible or truly bad, but upon seeing your nervous stare, he looked at you instead, silently. He had nothing to worry about, so why are you looking at him that way ?

Alastor leaned closer to you, his arm still wrapped around you.

“Tell him. Isn't honesty part of the process of redemption ?” His smile only grew as his eyes squinted, his claws feeling heavier against your shoulder.

Lucifer seemed confused, not understanding why you would be so nervous. You didn't do anything… right ?

“What… did you do ?” He finally asked, placing his hand on top of yours, wanting to reassure you that he was with you no matter what.

Your heart was beating rapidly in your chest, sweat appearing on your skin.

You knew what Lucifer thought of the sinners, how he hated what they did with the free will he gave them… What you did with it.

You hadn't planned to befriend him or to fall for him but you couldn't help it. The fallen angel was just so lovable, you couldn't avoid him eternally and ended up getting closer and closer.

You knew one day this would happen, he would learn the truth about you. But you hoped that being in the Hazbin Hotel would help you. Help him know you were not the same person as you were on earth.

“I was hum… I- erm…” You looked away and back at Lucifer, following your eyes. “I was a… a serial killer.” You say with a nervous smile, the last part was barely audible, but sadly, it was loud enough to be heard by the king of hell.

Lucifer froze. His eyes showed pure shock and it even seemed like he was getting pale. His reassuring smile was gone.

“You're joking, right ?” He manages to say. “This is not really funny.” He adds with a nervous laugh. But you avoided his eyes, too ashamed to look at him.

He pulled his hand away from yours and looked away. He wanted to say something to try and be nice, but he couldn't. You didn't deserve any niceties.

Lucifer quickly glanced at Alastor and glared at him. The radio demon had won this round.

You tried to speak, to explain yourself, why you didn't tell him sooner or even why you did what you did, but he stopped you. He didn't want to hear your excuses.

You could only watch as he walked away, disappointment and sadness evident on his face as Charlie followed him, confused.

Back at his palace, Lucifer couldn't stop staring at the duck he made of you. Squeezing it lightly between his fingers.

He felt betrayed and stupid for believing you were innocent, just another victim of heaven’s rules, when you far more earned to be here, in hell.

He was heartbroken. He couldn't believe he had let you get this close to him.

With ache in his heart, Lucifer fell asleep on his desk, the duck he made of you resting in his palm.

When he woke up, the ducky was still in his hand, and he looked at it sadly. He didn't know what to think.

On one hand, he should've expected something like that, it was his fault for thinking you being in hell was a mistake. But on the other hand, you had been so nice and understanding, patient and open-minded toward him, Charlie and the others. How was he supposed to guess you used to be a serial killer ?

He let go of the duck to place his head in his hands, sighing.

Lucifer loves you, he really does. But it's a hard to swallow pill you gave him.

He wants to hope you've changed. You're no longer the person you were on earth. After all, you're at Charlie's hotel to redeem yourself, right ? That must mean something.

He spends the next few days ignoring you, not that you had sent him any messages except “I'm sorry.”. You chose to give him space and time to think and decide what to do and he was glad you did.

You were anxious. Watching the last message you sent multiple times a day, hoping to get an answer, anything other than “read”. But you didn't push your luck, afraid he might block you entirely.

Lucifer didn't really know what to do, hesitating between messaging you and calling you or continuing to ignore you.

He clicked on the “call” icon and instantly panicked. Shit, what was he supposed to say ? Before he could hang up, your voice was heard.

“Hello ?”

A few seconds of silence followed as he stared at his screen before finally answering.

“Hello ! Yeah, [Name] ! Can we- can we talk ?” He said biting his lips, one hand anxiously pulling with his bow-tie.

“Yeah, sure ! Yeah.” You quickly replied, standing up automatically. “Where do you want to talk ?” You ask, sitting back down.

He thought for a moment.

“Hum… Why not the hotel. It seems… appropriate. Right ?” He smiled nervously and you could hear it in his voice. “I'll be here in a… uh… hour ?”

“Okay !” You exclaimed, standing up once more, earning a few stares from your friends.

When you both hung up, Lucifer was more stressed than anything. He tried some pep talk in front of different mirrors, preparing himself for what he would say to you. You mainly did the same thing but with Angel and Husk plus Charlie who was great at pulling your self-esteem out of the gutter.

You were determined in making Lucifer understand you had changed and had abandoned your murdery tendencies long ago. It was true after all.

Lucifer was holding his breath as he knocked at the door, anxiously waiting for someone to open it. He contemplated flying away from it but he straightened up as the door swung open.

It was you.

You adorned the same nervous and awkward smile as Lucifer as you welcomed him in. Closing the door behind him and quickly following him.

He was giving you another chance and you were not going to miss it. It's with determination you nodded at your friends, letting them know you were okay and could deal with it.

You patiently listened to each other as you both talked about your feelings and your time on earth. Why you wanted to go to heaven.

Turns out, you don't particularly want to go to heaven, you just wanted to do your redemption, and Charlie's hotel was perfect for that.

“I would understand if you don't want anything to do with me anymore…” You said, looking down.

“No, I-” He places his hands on your cheeks, making you look at him. “Let's try again, shall we ?”

Your brows are furrowed in confusion and he puts his left hand in front of you.

“I'm Lucifer. Charlie's dad.” He says with a proud smile. “And you ?” His smile softens, waiting for your answer.

It takes you a few seconds to catch on and grab his hand, shaking it lightly.

“I'm [Name]. Nice to meet you.”

#male reader #m!reader #hazbin hotel x male reader #hazbin hotel #hh x reader #lucifer morningstar x male reader #lucifer morningstar #hazbin lucifer

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omegalomania · 2 months

Text

the thing is that i can still remember the way it felt.

end of november, 2022, suddenly every feed lights up. they're doing something. people are posting images of the chicago tribune, a full page ad that has this bicolored logo, a face both happy and sad, black and white, and it simply says: FOB8.

"is this real?" quite a few people were skeptical after the years-long pause between mania and now. "i'm not convinced."

"it's a full-page ad in a single chicago newspaper out of nowhere, right after joe got finished doing a whole book tour where he insisted they had no new music to speak of," i answered. "of fucking course it's real. it has fall out boy all over it."

i remember so vividly the sense of wonder that arrived on christmas morning of that same year, when i woke up at the exact right moment to learn that fall out boy did something again. an eerie, playful, earnest, weird claymation video with a haunting soundtrack, featuring a little black and brown dog. it was mystifying and bizarre and striking - a sprinkling of stardust on the dog's muzzle that prompted it to sneeze - and the adrenaline rush i got from the snippet of heart-pounding drums and guitar was the best gift i'd received all year.

so much (for) stardust. i've said it before and i'll say it again - it's a damn near perfect title. it's a play on words, it has multiple meanings nested into one another. given enough time, we all fall apart like so much dust, like so much stardust because that's where we came from. we are made of and from stardust. for stardust. so much for stardust. so much for the cosmic clay that shaped us. so much for this life, so much for the very foundational fucking firmament from which we we all sprang, so much for this whole strange weird existence. it's exhaustion and anger and spite and frustration and, at the same time - it's wonder. it's love. it's a doberman frozen in an instant of elated play, snapping at bubbles. it's a dog breed conventionally associated with danger captured in a moment of buoyant delight. it's an oil painting, surrounded by words shaped from sparkling clay.

it's love.

it's a record full to bursting with love. it's in the very first song they sent to us, sending us their love from the other side of the apocalypse. it's a record that says yes, the world is a mess and it feels insurmountable. maybe existence is meaningless. maybe it's all fucking pointless and we're all gonna die anyway. but like hell that means i'm not going to love life with all that i am. like hell i am going to let that stifle me. if nothing matters, then love is what matters.

and they committed to it, too. if there's one thing we can take away from so much for (tour)dust, it's that fall out boy loves us the way we love them. they'd have to, right? they could have called it quits years ago. hell, they could've packed it up after the hiatus and just never come back. they'd have to really love doing this to want to keep at it, years later, and look at that. they have.

fall out boy, at the end of the day, is propelled by love. they have to really love what they do to keep doing it. they have to love each other, love the music, love the fans, to keep doing what they do. this is something they've repeatedly asserted over the course of this tour and record cycle: the sheer, shared joy, the positive feedback loop of creative energy that comes from sharing something you made with the world and seeing the world respond in turn.

the world is a wreck and it feels, at times, like nothing you do matters or changes anything. so much (for) stardust is the antithesis to that kind of existential apathy. look, it says. look at what your love has changed. because as desolate and nightmarish and inescapable as the pitfalls of this strange, oftentimes terrifying existence can be - we have laughter, we have good friends, we have good music, and we have the ability to not let our own ennui defeat us. there are things in this world worth living for. there are things in this world worth loving. you have to love one another. you have to laugh and do whatever silly, inane thing makes you feel alive. you have to hug your friends and sing with them, cry with them, and savor every drop of this life that we get. prioritize love. be seriously unserious.

a week before this record came out, i spent some 6-7 hours in a car driving to a record store to hear it with a bunch of people, many of them strangers. i heard so much (for) stardust in its entirety in a record store with one of my favorite people, surrounded by awed chatter as we all drank it in. we didn't catch all the words, but the ones we heard sank into us and took root. i almost couldn't bear to wait for to hear the record properly.

a year later, it's sunk into the recesses of my soul. i'm not sure it'll ever come unstuck there. i don't think i want it to.

thanks for the stardust, fall out boy.

we love you back.

#fall out boy #*making poasts #ok emotional wordvomit that just HAPPENED right after i got groceries #didnt plan this but im letting it happen. this is all freeform hope its not riddled w errors lol

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topguncortez · 3 months

Note

“i’m worried that if we go there, and things don't work out... things might never be the same.” with rooster! please and thank you! :)

prompts list:) thank you for the request!

All of Rooster’s life he was told that everyone gets one “great love” in their life. His mother’s great love was obviously his father and the one reason why she never remarried. Rooster could remember when he was about 13 or 14, asking his mother why she never remarried. It had been over 10 years since his father’s passing and Carole had never so much as looked at a male the way she did Goose.

“Because it wouldn’t be fair,” Carole told her son, a sad smile on her face, “It wouldn’t be fair to marry a man knowing I couldn’t love him the way I love your father. He was my great love… and I’ll never find another one like that.”

Bradley wondered if towards the end of her life, when she was alone in the house for those last couple of years when he was off at school, if maybe, just maybe she wished she had someone there. He asked her again, on one of the last good days she had, if she wished she had found someone to spend her life with.

Carole again, gave him a sad smile, “It wouldn’t be fair. There’s only one person I’ve been praying about seeing again.”

Bradley hadn’t realized it at the time, but the older he got, the more he envied what his parents had. “A Great Love” that was as if it came straight from a romance novel. “A Great Love” that held steady for years, despite his father being deceased for more than half of it. “A Great Love” that seemed to come so easy to them but for Bradley, was nearly impossible.

Except, it wasn’t impossible.

No, Bradley did have a “Great Love”, in the form of the neighbor girl who lived in the blue house next door. The girl who used to make mudpies with in the backyard. The girl who teased him relentlessly when he got braces only to end up with wires on her own teeth a couple of weeks later. The girl who is his best friend… and is currently crying on his couch over her now ex-boyfriend.

“A-And he was saying stuff and I-“ You sucked in a deep breath, trying to will the tears to stop falling down your cheeks.

"I'm sorry, Ducky," Rooster said, using the age-old nickname, even though he wasn't in the slightest sorry. Sure, he felt bad that you got your heartbroken, but he was celebrating the fact that Douchebag Dan was finally out of your life, "You deserve better."

"I thought he was the one!" You sobbed, "He had me sending him ring options!"

And suddenly Bradley hated Douchebag Dan even more than he did fifteen minutes ago when you showed up at his doorstep.

"Hey," Bradley said shifting closer to you, his thigh touching yours, "You know what this means though, right," You looked up at him with big sad eyes and the most adorable wobble of your bottom lip, "Your great love is still out there."

You rolled your eyes, "I'm starting to think that's a hock of shit," You flopped back on the couch defeated, "I've dated three guys in my lifetime all for over two years and none of them have put a ring on my finger," You held up your hand, wiggling your ring finger, "It's just not going to happen. I don't have a great love."

"Sure you do."

"Where!?" You looked over at Bradley, "Where is mine?"

"Maybe, you're looking too hard for it. Maybe they're closer than you think," Bradley simply shrugged, reaching for his beer bottle on the coffee table.

"Yeah?" You quipped, "What about you? Have you met your 'great love'."

Bradley sucked in a breath, knowing he couldn't lie to you about this or hell, about anything, "Yeah," He admitted, "But she doesn't feel the same."

You felt a pang in your heart, causing you to sit up, pulling your legs underneath you, "Does she know?"

Bradley shrugged, "I think so. I mean, I-I've known her forever."

"Oh," You were trying to rack your brain of the potential girls that Bradley had his heart set on, "Do I know her?"

"Mhm," Bradley pursed his lips, taking another sip of his beer for he stupidly gave himself and his stupid crush away. A stupid crush that could mean the end of the longest, greatest friendship he has ever had. You were the one thing from his childhood that had managed to stick around. You were there when his mother died, when his dreams of following his father's footsteps came crashing down, when he got his acceptance letter to UVA, when he graduated flight school and got his wings, when he graduated from TopGun.

All the major memories that Bradley had, you were always right there. He couldn't let a stupid crush end that. He couldn't let his heart and his feelings complicate things. He couldn't-

"It's Phoenix, isn't it?"

Bradley spat his beer out of his mouth, coating the coffee table in sticky alcohol. Your eyes widened as he coughed and wiped the beer from his lips.

"What?" He choked out.

"Your great love," You muttered, "Is it Phoenix?"

"Hell no," Bradley shook his head, "That-that's crazy."

"Not really, she's pretty and you're around her all the-"

"It's you," Bradley cut you off.

You felt your heart stop in your chest as you stared at your best friend, "W-What?"

He sighed, hanging his head in shame, "It's you, Y/N. It has always been you. You are my "great love"."

"Bradley, I-"

Bradley shook his head, "I didn't mean to do this. Not when you're upset over Douchebag Dan, but. . .fuck, I can't take it anymore," He stood up from his spot on the couch, beginning to pace, "Watching you go with guys who have no idea what it means for you to look at them like they hung the fucking stars. To have you love them and kiss them and be with them day after fucking day. I love you, Y/N. I have been in love with you."

Fresh tears were in your eyes as you looked at the man who is your best friend, "Why didn't you tell me?" Your voice was barely above a whisper.

"Because I’m worried that if we go there, and things don't work out... things might never be the same," Bradley's big brown eyes shone with unshed tears, "And you're all I have left. I can't lose you."

"You won't lose me," You stood up from your spot on the couch, walking over to him, "Cause I love you too," You grabbed his face in your hands and placed a kiss on his lips.

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goldenamaranthe-blog · 2 months

Text

First Date: Chaggie

Chaggie Week of Firsts - Day 2

-On the hotel back patio-

Razzle: (dressed in an extra spiffy sequined suit with a little top hat and holding a sign saying "I just met you, and this is crazy. But I really like you, so date maybe?") Baaaap!

Dazzle: (also dressed to the nines in sequins with a flower wreath snapped around his neck and a silver platter of chocolates balancing on his head, his super long tongue trying to sneak up and steal a chocolate) Baaaaap!

Charlie: Okay, she'll be here any second now. I'm just going to ask Vaggie out on a date. Nothing too serious. Just... if she says no, then I've basically outed myself and told her I like her. Like like-like her. Then I have to deal with her possibly wanting to leave because she doesn't like girls and is uncomfortable to even be around me!

Razzle: (looking sad) Baaap?

Dazzle: (eyes catch something in the yard, and he excitedly elbows Razzle) Baap! Baap!

Razzle: Baap? (Sees where Dazzle is pointing and grins) Baap!!!

Charlie: (taking a deep breath and not noticing Razzla and Dazzle tiptoe away) Okay, okay, okay, holy shit... I can do this. I'm the Princess of Hell! I can do whatever I want! (Deflates a little) OooOooOOoh!!! Who am I kidding? I'm a wreck! (Sighs) At least I have you guys with me.

-Silence-

Charlie: (face falls) Razzle? Dazzle?

SPLISH!!! SPLASH!!! SQUISH!!!

Charlie: (turns around in horror as she sees the sign, flowers, and chocolate platter scattered across the patio) BOYS!!!!

Razzle & Dazzle: (splashing and rolling around in a mud puddle) Baaap! BaaAAaap!!!

Vaggie: (slightly nervous as she steps onto the patio) Hey, Charlie. You wanted to talk to me?

Charlie: Vaggie?! H-Hi!!! Uh, just a sec! (Turns to the demon goats as her horns grow) Razzle! Dazzle! Get out of the mud right now!!! I swear to my dad, that had better just be mud!!!!

Vaggie: Pfft! (Tries to hide her laugh as she looks at the mess on the patio. Her eye catches the sign and she blushes) Uh, Charlie?

Charlie: (horns disappear as she turns back sheepishly) Yes, Vaggie?!

Vaggie: (smiles warmly) Do you need help reining the boys in? Maybe some assistance getting them a bath?

Charlie: (glances out of the corner of her eye)

Razzle: (blows bubbles in the mud pit through his nose)

Dazzle: (rolling somersaults with bleats of joy)

Charlie: (defeated) Yes, please....

Vaggie: (gives Charlie a quick peck on the cheek) It's a date. (Turns to Razzle and Dazzle and squares her shoulders) Alright, you two tin can connisours! Get out of the mud before I have to dive in after ya! Don't think I won't!

Razzle & Dazzle: (stop what they're doing briefly, exchange glances, and blow raspberries)

Vaggie: Oh! That is it! (Launches herself off the patio)

Charlie: (hearts in her eyes as she touches the spot on her cheek that Vaggie kissed)

#chaggie #chaggiefirsts #charlie morningstar #vaggie #first date #razzle #dazzle #hazbin hotel #chaggie week of firsts #I'm thinking Michael rolling in the mud from Drakkengard 3 for the two goat boys #charlie is a bisexual biohazard #gay disaster #they love each other

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totally-not-a-tickle-blog · 3 months

Note

If you’re open to fic prompts: maybe Angel finding out Husk is ticklish when he helps him preen his wings? Currently on HuskerDust brain rot :’)

A/N: It's been a long time since I've written anything like a fic so I'm sorry if it come out bad 💔💔

HOPE YOU ENJOY!!

PS: Reblogs and comments motivate writers; not forcing but just in case you're willing to support us :] /gen

————————————————————————

"Not that ticklish"

Ler!AngelDust, Lee!Husk

Warnings: Swearing, suggestive jokes, Huskerdust

————————————————————————

Husk had a thing for his demon body and he's 100% aware of that. He ignored it as much as possible, trying to live like if he's still fully human with just a few changes, but with time he realized that perhaps... it was inevitable. At some point he had to do things that people weren't supposed to do, such as brush his fur or take care of his wings.

However, nowadays at the hotel, Husk avoided doing any of those since he's not alone like he used to be. The guy REALLY refused to be caught doing any of those embarassing things (they are for him atleast), and with people like Angel Dust in this place, he would not be left alone. Not like peace was an option at the first place, but it would get worse.

One week with doing basic hygiene only. Brushing his teeth, taking baths, brushing the top of his head, maybe cleaning his ears too. Nothing else.

At some point the consequences would come, and for his unluck, his fur was the first of them. Just using his hand wasn't really enough to keep it in place; the obvious consequence, yet a big defeat for Husk. Well, if one humiliation was about to come, doing the rest wouldn't really change anything.

"Whiskers~" Angel Dust called, approaching the counter without even looking as he sits. "Can you give some attention for the little me while everyone is busy?" But, as he opened his eyes, nobody was there.

"Oh, that's new." The spider spoke to himself, letting out a sigh of disappointment as he get off his seat.

His smirk disappeared, finally relaxing his face and revealing the honest expression of his: tiredness. Everything that Angel wanted right now was to distract himself, so the sigh had way more than disappointment.

...but his sadness did not last.

"FUCKING BULLSHIT!"

Was the only thing he heard from upstairs, immediately recognizing the cat's voice. Angel would be lying if he said it didn't worry him, which was the same reason why he walked after Husk right away.

And also the reason why there was no knocks before a giant spider basically kicked the door open.

It made Husk jump right away, almost falling on his feet. "What the... what the hell? What was that for?!"

Aaand literally nothing is happening. A bit disappointing, but at the same time relieving.

Maybe nobody died, but something was different. Angel looked at him up and down with a raised eyebrow, silent.

One of Husk's wings was open, it seemed cleaner than the other and a few feathers were on the floor.

An awkward silence dominated the room for some good seconds until Angel finally interrupted it.

"You clean your wings??"

Husk pinched his nose almost instantely. "Preen." He replied with a frown, closing his wing once again.

"Yeah, yeah, whateva'. That's kinda adorable if you ask me..."

"Good thing I didn't. You leaving now?"

Angel closing the door was everything he needed to do as an answer, approaching Husk's bed with a smirk.

"C'mon, lemme help!"

It made Husk's eyes open a little more, creating some more inches of distance between them. "No way."

"And why not? It's not like you can do it all by yourself!" The raise of an eyebrow with a bored face was the answer he got; ignored completely, of course. "Ya' know I ain't leaving anyway."

He does know, he's just sure. This stubborn spider is one to talk about when it comes to not giving up over Husk.

"Mess up one single feather and I'm kicking you out. Permanently." He says, pointing at Angel directly in the face with a sharpened gaze. The other simply nodded, wearing a big playful grin. "Understood, Husky!"

As much it was nice to have some help, it also means teaching Angel how to take care of them, and he's for sure not the best example of a teacher. This, mixed with Angel's lack of knowledge about birds overall, really didn't help.

"—And then you pull it slowly." Husk finished, watching Angel do exactly what he was told to do. Despite anything, the guy seems to be actually trying. "Yeah, like that... uh, kind of. You don't need to take a whole day to do that."

"I'm just being careful, babe! Besides, I'm not gonna risk being banned from your room~"

Husk rolled his eyes. "Just go faster." As he couldn't lose the chance, Angel raised his eyebrows in a mocking yet flirtatious way before finally returning to what he was doing. I mean, he asked for that one!

Angel indeed began to take care of the wing faster, but it also meant making his fingers a bit less quiet too. It began to turn into a problem as soon as he used them to search for anything dirty, scratching lightly. Husk's unintentional movements got Angel's eyes.

'Does it hurt? No, I don't think he wouldn't complain if it did... huh. That's weird.' He thinks to himself, resting his hand there for a moment.

"What got ya' to be moving so much, Husky?" Asked, hiding his slight concern but not his curiosity.

"Nothing, it just... tickles. A little." Answered, a little embarassed but still honest. For some reason it was quite interesting... and cute. Won't lie.

"Didn't knew that wings could be ticklish. Or just... you."

"What do you mean?"

Angel chuckled at the question. "It's just surprising that our grumpy, annoyed and sexy bartender would be so ticklish!" Husk gave him a bad stare, afraid that he was being mocked; even tho it wasn't exactly the case.

"Now you're just making up things, I'm not that ticklish."

"Ohoho, really? Then how could you be all squirmy with only a few touches?"

"It's a... uh..." He looked around, trying to find a good excuse. "...wings, thing. You don't get it, you don't have 'em."

An awful excuse, and to be honest, not even if it was the perfect one it would trick Angel.

"If that's the case then lemme test it in another spot."

Not even ten seconds in, and Angel was already wiggling his fingers in the air, his huge grin expressing a 'dangerous' excitement over the situation.

"Don't you fucking dare..."

A pause between the two. Almost a staring contest by how intense they were looking at each other.

"...GOTCHA'!"

With the war cry yelled out, he jumped towards Husk, who would be able to escape if it wasn't for Angel's additional arms. Goddammit.

Husk tried to get something off his mouth, but literally nothing, not a single sentence was able to form. Just a bunch of gibberish, which entertained the spider quite a lot. However, he wasn't there just for the teasing.

The messed words were cut with a gasp as he felt fingers moving on his sides, already squirming to get out as a body's response. The cat-demon tried to resist, but failed miserably as his giggles dominated completely.

"Fuhuhuck- get off!"

"Hmm... I'll think about it, Whiskers." His fingers, despite fast, did not seem to put that much pressure over Husk's skin. "Just gimme a moment, okay?"

Angel used his free arms to put a hand over his chin, looking up playfully as if actually reflecting on his answer.

"F-FahahaHAHahah! That- that mohoment already passehehed!"

"Hey, you broke my line of thought! Now I gotta start it all over! Huh, what was the question again?"

Husk tried putting on a serious face, only for it to break instantely. "Du-Dumbahahahass!"

"That's not a question." Replied, keeping his teasy remarks in day.

It felt indeed a bit humiliating to be in a position like this, being tickled by the same guy who drives you nuts almot everyday. Unable to do pretty much anything but giggle, and squirm, and... just... not think about anything.

This isn't as bad as it looked like. Right, still embarassing, but not exactly the uncomfortable type of embarassing. It's such a mix of emotions, and at the same time he got nothing on his mind, his head was filled with this type of thing.

And once again, his own body betrayed him. As time passes, a soft purr can be heard between his laughter, not really under his control.

Angel raised his eyebrow almost right away.

"I can hear it..."

"You cahahan't! Shut uhuhup!"

"Pfft- not really using your brain now, are ya'?" He added, tilting his head and moving his hands to Husk's ribs now. "Not like you really caaaan~"

"S-SHIHIHIT!"

The volume of Husk's noises increasing got him startled for a moment, but it quickly went away as he saw some wings flapping lightly.

"C-CA- HAHEHEH- HOW ARE YOHOU DOING THAHAHAT?! STOHOHOP!"

"Me? I'm just really good with my fingers... and you're like, really ticklish. Duh."

Sadly, the fun would come to an end, as the lee's breath was already giving up on him along with the stamina. Now, pushing once more, he put actual effort on it, almost making Angel get thrown off the bed.

"OKAY, OKAHAY, ENOUGH! ENOHOUGH!!"

The energetic fingers finally lost its pace, giving his poor body full of fur some peace. Okay, maybe a last poke only for the tease, but then that's it.

"He-Hey!"

"Oopsie!~" He let out, along with a silly wink. "Sooo? Still not 'that ticklish'? Cuz I don't think I don't got sides and ribs..."

Husk couldn't help but chuckle. "You digged your own grave. Hope you know that, dickhead."

Angel Dust's teasy smile softened, blinking once before leaning back.

"Yeah, I do."

He really hoped they would continue with whatever they began.

#tickling #tickle #tickle community #tickle fanfic #tickle fic #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel husker #huskerdust #angel dust x husk #husk x angel dust #lee!husk #ler!angeldust

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iwelcomedeathwithopenarms04 · 3 months

Text

Yandere Sir Pentious | General Headcanons

Since no one else is doing it, I will >:(

Ps. I take requests ;)

● He may not be the smartest or strongest, but he's got the spirit alright.

● In this scenario, you met him first at the Hotel. Maybe you were a sinner looking for redemption? Maybe you were Charlie's friend or in a leash? Or maybe you just were there for the free housing? Either way, this man fell in love with you on first sight, believe it or not.

● He walks in all sad and pitiful `redemption redemption' and you don't buy his lie and goddamn it he doesn't know why but the glare you are giving him gives him the chills. And not in a bad way mind you.

● Like you're just standing there glaring at him, and he just locks up when he sees your eyes on him. `Who is this?` `What's their name?` `WHY ARE THEY SO GODDAMN SEXY?!`

● Eventually (literally on the first day lmao) when Angel Dust discovers the "hidden" camera and you walk in, dropkick him and stand on his back with one leg to keep him down he almost moans right then and there. Like wtf why are you so good-looking while beating the shit outta him???

● You ain't even gotta be stronger than him. When you lay your hands on him (or literally any part of you), he just locks up and lets you throw him around.

● The Egg Boyz are gonna call you 'mom' 'mama' 'momma' or any possible alternate regardless of your gender (or lack of).

● Like the Egg Boyz just are too dumb to comprehend anything. In their eyes, the boss loves likes you, you care for the Egg Boyz (whether out of your own volition or not doesn't matter), and you keep their boss in line. To them, you're a mother because a mother's role is to care and keep the daddy in line, right? (Why Egg Boyz, why).

● Anyways, as a yandere, Sir Pentious is more capable of showing his feelings for you than in the show. Instead of saying, "Because I'm buying drinks for everyone," he goes "because you are my first ever friend" or something like that.

● Though he certainly isn't the strongest demon out there, he ain't the weakest either. If some random demon happens to be messing with you, they just might find themselves in a bit of a pickle when Sir Pentious pays them a visit <33

● "You better bow down trash. You're in the presence of a RULER." (He's talking about you, btw) he worships the ground you walk on. You can't do any wrong in his eyes (even though you are in Hell for a reason)

● You could literally blow up an orphanage, and he would go "Yeah well the orphanage was in their way."

● In the final battle, you had gotten hurt, and he couldn't stand it. In his eyes, someone so powerful and mighty (even though you may actually be weaker than him) couldn't be defeated by something as simple as a hit from the first man ever, right? Right?!

● There are two ways we can go from here.

● One is that Sir Pentious sacrifices himself for you. He sees how hurt you are and filled with rage and the thirst of revenge he gets a confidence boost and kisses you deeply, declaring his undying love for you in front of EVERYBODY.

• Then he powers up the machine, dies an embarrassing death and yada yada. Now in Heaven, he will literally fight tooth and nail to either get back down to you or to bring you up there with him.

● If it so happens that he can't remember anything, then he would feel deep longing for something or someone that he can't quite place. What is this painful feeling in his chest? Why does he feel like he is missing someone important?

● Alternatively, if it so happens that YOU end up dying in the final battle, then Holy Hell.

● Seeing your lifeless body fills him with pure heartbreak that he didn't know he was even capable of feeling.

● He would kill himself then and there. He doesn't care who he will leave behind as long as he gets to die, too, while holding your hand or hugging your body close to his. He can't live without you, even in Hell. To him, the only way to be loyal to you now that you are dead is to be dead with you.

● Even in death, you can't escape your diehard fan <3

#yandere #yandere hazbin hotel #yandere hazbin hotel headcanons #yandere sir pentious #soft yandere #yandere headcanons

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lost-in-lamentation · 8 months

Text

marred.

a/n: and for my birthday, i would like to give lucifer a hug.

content: lucifer is overworked (shocker). takes place in original timeline.

warnings: nothing? i think?

comfort. lucifer × gen!reader (you/your).

it's late by the time you return home, the clock ticking far past midnight as you walk by it in the hallway. your steps are muffled by the carpet beneath you. the only sound that can be considered loud from you is the way the plastic bag in your hand crinkles with each step. you head towards the dining room, placing the bag on the table just as you hear a loud thud coming from above. you wonder if it's leviathan doing another game marathon, belphegor falling out of his bed, or satan having a late night tantrum. with a sigh, you turn heel and head back to your room, putting the rest of your belongings down before venturing out to see if you need to scold a certain brother.

you poke your head into levi's room first, but write him off the list when you see him in his bathtub tapping away at his handheld console. you're about to check the twins next when something else catches your eye. it's not uncommon for lucifer to be working this late into the night, but his usual habits always have the lights dimmed.

quietly, you rap on his door a few times, rocking back and forth on your heels until it clicks open.

clearing your throat, you step inside and shut the door behind you. "i'm home," you say softly, crossing the room to where lucifer sits on the couch. "you're not working?"

uncharacteristically, lucifer shakes his head no, briefly meeting your gaze before gesturing for you to sit next to him. "it… felt like a nice night to sit and watch the fire."

"yeah?" you slot yourself next to him, shoulders brushing as you settle in. lucifer doesn't say anything more, but you're quick to notice his ungloved hands and the way his knuckles are white from clenching them so hard. without a word, you flip your own hand to have your palm facing up, keeping your eyes trained on the fire. you stay that way for a while, the crackling of the embers taking up the rest of your attention. it's only when you feel lucifer tentatively place his hand in yours that you look back at him. a gentle smile tugs at the corners of your lips before you turn to the fire again.

lucifer opens his mouth to say something, but decides against it. instead, he pulls your entwined hands up, pressing them to his forehead for a few seconds. in your grasp, you feel his hands trembling, and his breath is shaky against your skin. you face him again, this time with concern carved into your expression.

"tell me what's going on," you whisper, pulling your hands down so you can see lucifer's face. your heart sinks at the sight; the defeat marring his face is so blatant when it's just the two of you.

his eyes barely meets yours. "i…" he pauses, and you worry that he is looking for a way out. but lucifer sighs after a second, his head hanging low. "i am tired."

your chest constricts at the sight of lucifer being so vulnerable. slowly, you untangle your hand from his, wrapping your arm around his shoulder and tugging him down so his head lands in your lap. his eyes are red, and it's not the usual ruby coloured gaze you've grown accustomed to seeing. lucifer's eyes glow red with turbulent emotions, sadness and defeat overtaking all. "you've done well."

lucifer can feel the tenderness as you cup his cheeks, your care and compassion so stark that he feels like the dam will break. but you smile at him, and lucifer can't stop the warmth that spreads from your hands all the way into his own heart. pride be dammed when he is with you; nothing feels better to lucifer than when he finally feels understood.

a/n: idk i had a pretty bad week actually but now i'm 22 and what better way to celebrate than putting lucifer through emotional hell, am i right?

reblogs are really appreciated (´ω｀) ♡

#obey me #obey me swd #obey me nightbringer #obey me lucifer #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me luci x reader #lucifer x mc #lucifer x reader #lucifer x you #obey me comfort #aris writes 🐈‍⬛

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scottishaccentsareawesome · 8 months

Text

The thought that has invaded my mind now is...

Hangman and Rooster both getting extremely angry at each other one night. Maybe it started because Rooster got drunk at the Hard Deck and started to pick a fight with Hangman, and Penny threw them both out.

Rooster angrily stumbles down the stairs to the beach, and Hangman follows him wanting to know just what the hell his problem is.

Rooster, seething, finally asks Hangman "...how come nothing ever effects you?! How can you just be like that...?!"

Hangman stares at him for a moment, absolutely stunned. "...I'm sorry what?"

"You're just a freaking...robot! You're like that robot from "The Wizard of Oz"!"

"...The Tin Man?" "YES, THE TIN MAN!" Rooster shouts, victoriously. "...With a cute little smile, and pretty eyes, and no heart whatsoever."

Hangman's face darkens. He's standing illuminated fully by the light of the lamp post near the foot of the stairs, yet somehow his face visibly darkens.

"...Who the fuck are you to talk about being heartless, Bradshaw?" he finally asks, his voice dangerously low but there was no mistaking the anger in his words.

"You can just...just stand there, or sit, or whatever stance you choose to take," Rooster began, his words slurring ever so slightly "...and just act like a total asshole."

"So what?"

"SO YOU ACT LIKE NONE OF IT EVER HAPPENED!" Rooster suddenly yelled. "Like I never mattered to you at all! How can you - how can you just do that...?"

"You broke up with me." "I know I - "

" - You broke up with me," Hangman repeated, as he stepped closer to him. "You proposed to me, told me you wanted to spend your life with me, then broke up with me and YOU'RE CALLING ME HEARTLESS?!"

"Jake - "

" - Do you have any idea what it takes for me to be in the same room with you?!" The blonde asked, his words starting to get thicker with emotion. "Do you honestly think I enjoyed being at the Hard Deck, that night before the Dagger mission started, after you waltzed in? I couldn't fucking breathe. You were taking up all the air the room! I left while you were playing that stupid piano and getting everybody in the bar wrapped around your little finger. Cuz that's what you like to do isn't it Rooster?! Get everybody looking at you...!"

"Well, that's the fucking pot calling the kettle black - "

" - You weren't even in uniform!" Hangman shouted. "Everybody else was, but no rules don't apply to you cuz you've got Admirals like Kazansky on your side, and Maverick was your daddy's bff, and you can do whatever you want - "

" - You're a dick."

"Yeah and you're a fucking Nepo Baby who can't stand it when you have to actually work for something," Hangman spat out. "If I'm the Tin Man, you're the fucking Cowardly Lion."

Rooster took a swing at him, but Hangman ducked and used his shoulder to knock Rooster right on his back on the sand.

Rooster just stared up at him, waiting to see what he would do next. But he wouldn't let him see defeat in his eyes, or shame.

...There did seem to be a glimmer of sadness in there, though.

"You want the truth, there it is," Hangman told him, his chest heaving as he stared down at Rooster, then he put his knee on the other man's chest and leaned in a bit closer.

Rooster grunted at the added pressure, but kept staring back at Hangman as the other man looked down at him.

"...You were a coward with me, you're a coward in the air, and you try to make up for it by singing live karaoke to a bunch of half-drunk aviators in a bar," Hangman continued. "You think I pretend like our relationship never happened, but you don't exactly bring it up in conversation, either. Your problem isn't me, Bradshaw, it's the guy in the fucking mirror."

Hangman took his knee off Rooster's chest, stood up and walked back up the stairs, without looking back at Rooster once.

Rooster turned his head to watch him leave, but he didn't get up from the sand just yet. He waited a moment, took a breath, let it out, and closed his eyes; trying to blink away the beginnings of tears that were starting to cloud his vision.

"...You can never just say 'I miss you' to people can you, Bradshaw?" he muttered to himself. "No, you have to be an asshole to everybody..."

Rooster then sat up and used his hands to brush the sand out of his hair. He then stood up, climbed the rickety wooden steps that led back up the hill...and went home alone.

#please don't ask I just needed to ramble and then I needed to finish it somehow cuz I didn't wanna toss it and voila #hangaroo #hangster #sereshaw #angst ficlet #whump #rooster bradshaw #hangman seresin #top gun maverick

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twstmemories · 1 year

Note

I dont know if you watched frozen fever, but if you do, can I request the first years with a fem s/o who has ice magic/powers and she has a fever/cold, and whenever she sneezes, cute little snowmans appear. Like what do they do or how do they react.

-- ! how to make an appropriate title 101 with naru. while i haven't watched frozen fever, i do get the gist of what it was about and what you want me to do with this request! apologies for the late response, but i hope you like it! // the sole reason why this was kept from my inbox purge was because i was already done with ace and deuce's part.

✧ first years with a s/o who summons tiny snowmen when having a fever

✧ gn!reader

✧ this is an old request, but upon re-reading the entire thing after i was done writing i realized i didn't use a singular pronoun throughout. so we sticking with the gender neutral reader here too HAHA. also not beta-read we die like how i let this blog die for a whole ass year.

✧ Shrieks a tiny bit the first time you sneeze and his head is suddenly freezing cold before seeing a tiny snowman topple down from his head - real confused for a good few minutes after, to the point he actually forgets you're the one that conjured that tiny being up.

✧ Stares at it for a couple of seconds, owlishly blinking at the sentient tiny snowman running around in circles before directing his gaze towards you: "You didn't tell me that your ice magic could also summons snowmen upon you sneezing," he remarks, sounding oddly offended about not knowing that detail.

✧ "N-No," you sniffle, "It usually doesn't happen unless I'm getting a high fever," you wheeze, another sneeze resulting in double the amount of snowmen appearing and Ace just stares trying to figure out what the hell is happening.

✧ He's worried for 0.5 seconds before his more mischievous side comes forward: "Oh, so those come out whenever you sneeze?" he asks, just to clarify his theory - to which you who is just a bit too delirious to notice any hidden motif he has, nod without thinking twice.

✧ Like, he sees that you're fine! You may be running a bit of a high fever soon, but you're still fine! You're going on about your days with tons of tiny snowmen following your trail whenever you sneeze, but other than that you're perfectly fine! He'll do his part as a good boyfriend after he's had a bit of fun seeing this unusual side effect from your magic.

✧ Tries every trick in the book to make you sneeze more often when he finally has you tucked underneath some sheets inside your room. Accidentally claps two books together that have accumulated just a bit too much dust your way? More tiny snowmen. Tingles your noise a tiny bit with a feather out of affection? Even more snowmen, and you want to be mad at him, but he's having this dorky smile on his face with a slight blush as he picks up another snowman. "Sorry, sorry! They're just so cute!"

✧ Deuce is rather ashamed to admit this, but the moment he set his eyes on those little snowmen appearing out of thin air when you first sneezed - the fact that you were running a high fever was forgotten. Completely gone from his mind, every worrying thought about your condition had suddenly vanished from his head.

✧ Over the moon seeing those tiny beings trail behind you. Ecstatic when he picks one up and the others just jump on top of his body like this is the happiest he is at the moment, nothing can make his day sour now that these little guys are around him.

✧ "Is this the reason why you try not to get sick so often?" Deuce asks, arms cradles full of the tiny snowmen that you conjure up whenever you sneeze and you can only give a defeated nod in return: "They disappear after a while, but if I'm sneezing left and right it's almost an unending snowman army."

✧ Becomes oddly attatched to every tiny snowmen you conjure up. You don't know why, he doesn't know why either. All you two know is that whenever one poofs away after a while, he gets sad and now you're the one consoling him even when you have a fever.

✧ Sadness is only there for a moment though before he picks himself back up and starts to take care of you: "Sorry, they were just so tiny that I couldn't help it. Come on, let's get you back to your room so you can rest properly."

✧ When he finds out the tiny snowmen try their best to help you too he's just so damn elated. Tries to give them small tasks and just smiles at them fondly when they try their best. You find it nice that Deuce isn't overly worried about you and causing a ruckus to the point you omit the tiny detail that every thing that the tiny snowman deliver to you, arrives freezing cold.

✧ Oh you're cradled up in his arms and off to his room the moment he even sees your red nose and shivering self. No he does not care if it's in the middle of the day and you both have class, you're not taking another step or standing up for another second.

✧ Literally halts in his tracks the moment he sees the first snowman appear when you sneeze. Eyes wide and blinking numerous time as he tries to process what the hell just happened, "I- That, is this normal?" No, Jack. It certainly is not normal.

✧ Vaguely listens to your explanation as he hurries towards the mirror hall and towards Savanaclaw, but every time you sneeze he stops to pick up any stray snowman that doesn't land on either you or him - What if you eventually need them to be absorbed back to get more of your magic back? "That's now how it works," "How would you be 100% sure? You rarely get sick as is."

✧ Keeps a mental note on the amount of snowmen that appears whenever you sneeze and where they scurry off to after they've toppled to the floor while taking care of you.

✧ Besides from the mental counting of snowmen he doesn't really try to touch the little creatures, they're made out of snow after all. Sure they can take quite a long fall to the floor or bounce on the bed whenever you sneeze, but they're so... small? He feels like if he just grabs their body they'll just evaporate from the warmth of his palm alone.

✧ You only laugh at Jack's hesitant face once the snowmen he has tried so hard to avoid touching just start to crowd around him, trying to jump on top of him to climb further up his torso. It's a nice pace of change, seeing your lover who usually runs around from dawn and lifting weights try to be so gentle with magic snowmen.

✧ The first snowman that's summoned from thin air and onto your head is in the middle of potion making class. Epel quite literally shrieks when he notices the snowman roll off your head and topple into the cauldron and drops everything he's currently holding to catch it.

✧ Which was the two beakers with other components for the current potion you were making, the shattering noise immediately alerting Crewel. However before he could even start to reprimand, it only took one mere glance at your wobbling self before he directed his gaze towards Epel who instinctively hid the snowman behind him, "Take them to the infirmary, puppy. They're one minute from falling all over the floor."

✧ And it is with that remark that Epel snaps his head towards you, stepping over and pressing the palm of his hand over your forehead, "Yeah, ya burn' up." he mutters, quickly excusing himself before pulling your weak self out the door. The snowman left behind scurries after the two of you when faced with Crewel who only raised an eyebrow up at it.

✧ He's not having a good time. While he tries his best to drag the barely consicous you to the infirmary, he also have to get a hold on every snowman you summon with each sneeze before they scurry away and wreck havoc. So safe to say, Epel has seen better days.

✧ Has half a mind to gather them and chuck them into a basket and zip it shut and another half to just observe them and see what they do. The former won the moment the two of you entered the infirmary and you let out a number of sneezes, which prompted more snowmen to appear and almost destroy the entire room.

✧ Does feel bad when he comes back to the infirmary after going back to the dorm to grab a few snacks to see a few more snowman appear and just try to pull the string open. Nonetheless, you awaken to Epel peeling off an apple, with a few of the snowmen sitting inside a bowl with a few unpeeled apples, "It took some time, but I eventually figured that they just wanted to help, so now they're just keeping the apples cold for me. Here, have a bite." he ignores the look of utter confusion on your face at the snowman on top of his head.

✧ Utterly appalled. Absolutetly flabbergasted. Disappointed that you, his lover, can not take care of themselves like he can. Barges into your room to see your sniffling self on the bed with a look of utter disappointment.

✧ "And here I thought you were one step above your other brethren the others with you rarely getting sick! And where do I find you right after thinking that? In bed! With a fever! How typical!" He huffs, pulling the sheets away from you despite your weak protests. He is utterly shocked the moment he sees the amount of snowmen jump away from your bed and out through your bedroom door the moment he pulled the sheets away from you, staring at the small creatures scurrying down the hallway of Diasomnia.

✧ "And to make matters worse, you hide tiny snowmen in your bed?! I cannot understand how you humans think!" You do not have the energy to correct him. But before you can get up and try to get those snowmen back into your room, Sebek is already pushing you back down to bed with a scoff, "You are not moving a single muscle until I allow it! Now, I know the young master is strong enough to handle some weak human magic, but I still need to ensure his safety, so wait here!"

✧ And he's off to worry about Malleus after lecturing you. After fuzzing about Malleus for a good half hour, the fae dismisses him with the loud thought of: "Wasn't [Name] feeling a bit sick this morning?" to remind your lover about your condition.

✧ Hence he barges back into your room and interrupts your short nap with a tray that's filled with warm tea and some soup. He scowls at the numerous of snowmen that's running around your room, setting the tray down on your bedside table before he gathers them all up and throws them inside a basket you had lying around in displeasure. They've made enough of a ruckus for a day.

✧ "As weak as you humans are, I would've believed you would still be able to take care of yourself sufficiently enough to not get a fever," he huffs, handing you the warm tea for you take a sip of. "I suppose I can give you some credit for trying to not get sick often, because these?" he starts, raising an eyebrow at another sneeze from you, and before the snowman can even topple down onto the bed, he's already grabbing it and throwing it onto the basket with the other snowmen, "Are quite frankly annoying to deal with." he huffs, picking up the spoon and taking the bowl in his hands, "Now hurry up and drink this soup so you can lay down while I prepare some wet towels."

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #ace trappola #ace trappola x reader #deuce spade #deuce spade x reader #jack howl #jack howl x reader #epel felmier #epel felmier x reader #reader insert #i had another draft where sebek just abandons you to make sure malleus is safe #im so sorry sebek #but it made me laugh

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dearest-kibble · 9 months

Text

Atlas

A part one (the second is in the works and I'm going insane because i have a lotta ideas) Read on A03 here!

Tw: Stalking, (kind of?) suggestive content, general yandere-ness. It is slow to get to but very much there. Kinda goes from 1-100. Miguel is so sane he swears. I'm back to my dialogue loving ways. (If you think I've forgotten any tags please let me know!)

“Are — Are you okay?” There is a man bleeding in the alley behind your apartment. Profusely might you add. He doesn’t speak, just grunts at you and you notice — Spider-man. That’s Spider-man. He’s bleeding out in the alley. Without a single other thought you make your way towards him and rid yourself of your jacket. Spiderman cocks his head at you. “It’s not much. I know-” You tie it as tightly as you can around the wound. “But until I can get something better-” He shakes his head. “No?” He coughs. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yes.” He painfully rasps and starts to push himself off the damp pavement. Immediately your hands are outstretched and willing to help support. A large shaky hand takes them and you try your best to pull him gently from the ground.

He doesn’t offer any thanks as he staggers out of the alleyway, just a small nod but you feel compelled - “Thank you Spider-Man.” You think he turns at that.

———————————-

“I’m sorry I’m late!”

“What, had a good night?” You don't have to look to see Phil's stupid smug face.

“Interesting night maybe.” You were still tired, worried and a little high on meeting Spider-man.

“Now what’s that supposed to mean?” You love your co-worker, he's nice. Really truly he is. But what you wouldn't do to give him a good punch.

“I had an interesting night, take it as you will.” No way in hell you're ever telling him about Spider-Man.

“So you totally fu-” You've never been more relieved for a potential rush.

“Hello! We’ve got a menu on the wall above the counter whenever you’re ready to order just let one of us up here know!” You turn around to smile at your customer only to realize you have to look up. And up and up, until you finally meet his gaze. His eyes meet yours and he quickly turns his gaze up towards the menu.

“Just let us know whenever you’re ready to order.” Your co-worker tacks on. He stands with posture that cannot be comfortable, not speaking a word. He’s the only customer and both you and your coworker share a glance. He has this undeniably defeated look in his eye, but he still stands tall - as if he’s forced to.

“-ato.” He finally mumbles

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t quite hear that.” You give him a smile as best you can and wait while he just… stands there,

“I said macchiato.” It is then that he stares you down. You can see so much so clearly. His piercing brown eyes, you’d thought they were defeated before but maybe that was just the bags around them. Now that he’s looking at you he seems… much less sad. Though placing that emotion is not something you’re up to the challenge of. They seem to lighten a little as he asks, “Are you going to ring me up?” He speaks flatly, not a single hint of inflection and his teeth seem to glint in the light strangely. Briefly you wonder if maybe it’s some sort of body modification that he got, you don’t see a terrible amount of fangs. He clears his throat and suddenly you realize you’ve just been standing there.

“Oh gosh - yes yes. Let me just-” You move to the POS “Right over here!” You chirp. “One final question, do you mean a traditional macchiato? Or one of the Stellarbucks ones?” He huffs a small chuckle from his nose and his lips twitch upwards, not quite into a smile but a ghost of one.

“Those aren’t macchiatos. Traditional.” You should've figured, he seems like a straight espresso, black coffee kinda guy.

“Alright we’ll bring it out when it’s ready.” He goes to sit in the corner, away from any windows and from a bag pulls a computer.

“Did he tip?” A whisper as your co-worker grabs one of the macchiato cups from atop the espresso machine.

“Don’t think so.” You whisper back.

“Asshole.” You can’t help but giggle a little.

“Oh c'mon, he doesn’t seem completely awful, He just seems a little awkward is all.”

“You’re just saying that cause you think he’s hot.”

“Where do you get your ideas? First it’s my ‘fun night’ and then it’s this.”

“And where do you find the time to flirt so much?” Phil smirks.

“I absolutely was not flirting.” You make sure to say it with authority.

“I mean he is hot.” Phil says this rather loudly, and gives you the shittiest grin to ever eat. “You seemed to be staring at him.”

“Eye contact is common courtesy!!” You hiss.

“And his macchiato is done and I’m not dealing with him, go get him, lovebird.” You roll your eyes and take a doily and the cup. You make it quickly to his seat where he is comically large compared to the table and chair. He’s spilling over the edges of his seat and his arms are so large they take up what little space his computer doesn’t.

“Alright, I’ve got your traditional macchiato, let me just…” You look for a spot to place it, and find nothing with everything on his table. “I don’t want to throw a wrench in your work. Where would you like for me to place it?”

“Here is fine.” He shifts awkwardly, shoving his arm to his side so you have space. He watches you place the doily first and as you gently set down his cup. Before you can turn and tell him to “enjoy!” he exhales and mumbles softly, “You’re good at your job. No one knows what a real macchiato is these days.”

“Thank you.” You say politely. “We serve both, enjoy!”

“Can I ask your name?” You turn, just to see his eyes on you, a little softer, just as sunken and he’s got that same smile, almost knowing. He takes a sip of his coffee. “You don’t need to answer.” His mouth opens again as if he’s about to speak and you see it again, his elongated canines scraping against the edge of his cup when he downs his macchiato. He gulps it down quickly and takes your wrist, placing the cup in your palm and curls your fingers around it. Eyes so fixated on your hand in his that when he finally looks up, they widen and he pulls away quicker than you’d’ve thought possible. He sits down immediately and focuses pointedly onto his screen. He mumbles again - a quick, “Thank you again. Good espresso.” He can’t bring himself to look at you anymore, but you nod as if he’s looking anyway.

“Thanks, it's Peruvian!” He stares ahead just at his screen. Nods. “Just let us know if you need anything else.” He nods again and you walk back to the counter.

“So, how was it?”

“He’s-”

“You like him don’t you?”

“Would you stop with that? He’s strange,” You think back to his hand under yours, take a deep breath because even he was clearly surprised by his behavior. “But that’s all.”

“F’you say so.” Phil shrugs.

The rest of the day is painfully slow. Just an occasional latte or cappuccino. Nothing interesting. It’s as you’re closing that you see him again. Just as tall, just as weighed down. He still cannot bring himself to look at you when he murmurs “My name is Miguel. Have a good evening.” And he briskly walks out the door, bell ringing behind him. When you clean his table you find five dollars cash and a note in neat handwriting. “Best espresso I’ve had in a while. Will be back.” You pocket the money with a small smile, and take a second - you should split it with Phil, shouldn’t you. You sigh when you walk back and put it in the tip jar, and smile when you tuck it into the envelope labeled “tips”. You finish cleaning quickly, and start your trek back to your apartment. It’s a quick, brisk walk - chilly in the fall. You’d’ve thought after Spider-Man’s visit last night that maybe, your block would’ve been quieter. But the outskirts of Nueva York are never really quiet as you near your building, petty thieves run out of the grocers’ and it’s all you can do to pass by - who knows what could happen if you got involved. They scurry away with their money and goods and you come face to face with your door.

Held tightly to the metal with faint red webs and a note that reads “thanks again, S. M.”, is your jacket. You tug at the webbing, noting the slight warmth and strange pulse that it seems to have. Thrumming softly as you pull it away. Your jacket has clearly been cleaned, impressively might you add as for the amount of blood that seemed to be on it, there isn’t a single stain. You press your palm to your door and put your jacket on as it verifies your identity. You catch a glimpse of the blue and red suit from your kitchen window, he must’ve caught those thieves too!

The next day is bright and early, you put on your jacket for a brisk morning walk, spending your time before work amongst the carefully manicured trees with a sandwich for breakfast. Phil isn’t there when you clock in, and a quick check of your schedule tells you he won’t be there - you’re on your own today (and apparently the rest of the week). So you buckle down, set up the portafilters and check the espresso for the day - (light almond flavoring, all natural - the bean is kind).The morning is steady, different drinks, no terrible customers. Midday slows, no lunch rush today. Your evening is interesting. It gets busy around three o’clock, an entire line that on a Thursday, isn’t common. They’re asking for cortados, specialty drinks, modified with oat, soy and coconut - a never ending onslaught of everything you serve. The pastries you had set out that morning were all gone not even fifteen minutes after three and the line only grew and grew and grew. But you keep your composure. Deep breaths and glances to the tip jar have gotten you through rushes before, it’ll get you through one now. The line starts to dwindle around four thirty. Slowly, slowly thinning and exiting the shop. You are almost completely sold out of pastries and your coffee supply is running a little higher than your energy; not very. That’s when he finally enters again. Miguel(?), from yesterday. With the macchiato.

“Welcome back in,” You try your best to sound enthusiastic for a returning customer but you can’t help the exasperation seeping through. “What can we get you today?”

“Black-eye.” His eyes flit to you. “Please.” And back to the ground as they had been when he entered.

“That’s easy enough, we’ve got good espresso today.” You give him a nod.

“It was good yesterday.”

“But it’s better today, trust me.” You punch his order into the POS, “Oh, preference on single origin?” You smile at him again.

“What’s your lightest roast?” He tilts his head and the corners of his mouth twitch.

“Oh you need caffeine that badly? It’s our Ethiopia.” He shakes his head in amusement.

“No I,” He catches himself, “Yes I need the caffeine.” You start setting up the pour over, 21 grams and a gooseneck.

“What, you have late shifts or something?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe.”

“Think I can imagine. I have to deal with Phil half the time. Love that kid but god-” He exhales out his nose again, “So anyway, what do you do? Miguel, right?” You're halfway through, one eye on the coffee another on him. At the mention of his name his face drops. His face goes blank, eyes closed and he starts to turn.

“Same place as yesterday.”

“Alright.” Well so much for conversation. You turn as you make your last pour, and switch the espresso machine on, pour the shots and then the coffee. You take the mug and start over to the same table he was hunched over yesterday.

“Your black-eye.” He takes the cup from you this time, pulls it from your hand and doesn’t place it down.

“Do you…” His eyes dart to the side as he trails off, seems to stop himself.

“Oh?”

“Was just going to ask about coffee cake.”

“Oh yes! There is a single one left in the back, would you like it?”

“No.”

“Well, let me know if you need anything else.” He hums in response, sipping at his coffee and turning to his screen. You walk back to continue cleaning up the shop - with the rush of the day it’ll take longer to have it all cleaned and fixed. Your boss was born in 2037, and liked to do things the old fashioned way. No automated cleaning, no voice activated espresso, everything you did was done by hand in this shop. You supposed that maybe that’s what makes your cafe unique or popular, the antiquity of it. You knock the remaining pucks, cringing at the sound as you do, mop the floor, restock just about everything in the shop and even then you still have more to do it seems.

“What time do you close?” He puts a hand on your shoulder, stopping you on your way to check the table and chair positions.

“We close in,” You look to your shoulder, and immediately his hand is merely hovering, no longer resting on your shoulder. You continue slowly. “About ten minutes.”

“You’re an incredibly hard worker.” He stands, collecting his screens and pushing in his chair.

“Thanks,”

“It’s -” He cuts himself off again, wincing to himself and pinching his nose. “Nevermind.”

“Have a nice evening!” He bobs his head and doesn’t look back. The next day is slow. Rainy, dreary, cloudy - all of it. And the people willing to come out in this weather… well they all live in the undercity. Y’know - where the weather never changes. It’s a good day for the old jazz music on “Bluetooth” speakers, cozying up with some tea or coffee and setting up to do some computer work yourself. It’s cozy, you alone in the shop at seven in the morning, pastries put on display, coffee by your side and non-work related work set up on the counter. Eventually after sorting your affairs, you turn to check the state of the shop - maybe that Miguel guy would come again today, you might’ve gained a painfully awkward customer these past two days. Maybe it’ll be a different regular, someone seeking shelter from the pouring rain that refuses to drizzle. Maybe you won’t have any customers and you’re forced to go home and catch up on all the things you’ve been meaning to - ever since Spider-Man returned your jacket your door seems to have had some slight issues. You suppose the lock being a kind of genetics based lock (or something? Your landlady would know,) had some strange reaction to Spider-Man’s webs. Which makes perfect sense if you’re honest, if they’re any kind of biological creation they’d have to be a little strange to a door meant to scan a palm. Make it malfunction maybe. So yeah, if it’s a slow day you’d love to make it back and make sure your door isn’t going haywire and that you haven’t been robbed. The rain continues to pound against the windows, showing no sign of stopping. You decide to make yourself a drink and watch the day. The jazz is soft and the rain is loud, the view out the windows is limited, only showing the faint glow of signs reflected in puddles and the occasional passerby.

About two hours in you settle into working on your own thing. The rule is three hours no customers, and you can close. Just one more to go. You’re doing your fourth patrol of the shop when you look out the window again. It’s too rainy to tell exactly who it is, but from a distance you see a silhouette. They seem to be facing the shop, but it is a silhouette, maybe their back is facing the shop. They aren’t holding an umbrella, though maybe it was one of those less affordable nanotechnology devices to keep rain off, and they stand as you watch them (really this is the most interesting thing in hours, the fact that the rain has cleared enough to see the outline). The sign across the street flickers slightly and they flinch at the burst of light amidst the gloom. Eventually you realize how creepy it is of you to stare at someone who’s probably got their back turned to the shop and you go back to pacing. You can’t help but look on your fifth round though, to see if they’re still there.

They stay there for an hour in fact, get a little closer too, so you can tell that the body is masculine. He absolutely is facing the shop, looming closer and closer to the window. He lingers for not even a minute before you see him shake his head, finally take a step to the left and continue away from the shop. You’re left standing and still staring out the window, already possessing the idea to call and report the strange occurrence. You’re stalking your way over even, towards the counter to make a call when the bell finally rings.

“Hello good mornin-” You’re interrupted by a tiny little laugh and take a closer look at the customer in front of you. “And good morning to you too!” You give his daughter a smile and wave gently. She opens and closes her fist in response.

“Hey hey! Would you mind,” Her father gives you a nod and digs around in a large pocket of a pink bathrobe and pulls out some outdated cell phone. “Getting just a few pictures of us? It’s her first time in a coffee shop and I wanna capture the moment.” He holds the brick out to you over the counter and gives you a lazy - but winning, smile. “Thank you, thank you - oh her mother is gonna love this,”

“What’s her name?” You snap a picture.

“Oh this little angel? Mayday!” She coos adorably at her name. “Yep that’s you kid!” He ruffles her hair and you snap another picture.

“Isn’t she just the cutest little baby you’ve ever seen?”

“She’s adorable! You, her father and Mayday all agree with a round of laughter.

“Names Peter, by the way!” He holds his daughter up like that ancient, animated classic with lions and you grab another photo.

“Nice to meet you.”

“My good friend has been stopping in the past few days, mumbling about a good cup of coffee.” The man sets down a drenched umbrella in the stand you keep near the door as he speaks.

“Good friend, do you mea-'' It's right then that the bell rings again. Mayday coos gently at the noise and a sopping wet regular of three days stands on your welcome mat.

“There you are! Miguel, buddy!” Peter claps a hand on his back and Mayday reaches her chubby hand forward.

“I don’t recall telling you about this place.”

“Didn’t have to, s’nice little joint.” He gives you a smile to ignore Miguel’s glare. “And I mean, buddy! You gotta admit you’ve been a little happier these past few days. Wanted to check and see how good this coffee is myself.”

“Do you even drink coffee?” Miguel raises an eyebrow at the man and looks at his very evident lack of coffee.

“Ah,” the man sighs good-naturedly, “Right uh… cappuccino?” You pass back his old phone as you nod.

“Yep, can do! For you?” You turn to Miguel to discover he’s already looking at you.

“Macchiato.” He looks at the child who found her way onto his shoulders and scowls lightly; clearly with no real malice.

“Sure!” Their drinks are simple and Peter wrangles his daughter away from Miguel and they make their way to a slightly larger table. When you bring their drinks, they are mid conversation and you notice that either the man is oblivious or just doesn’t care because Miguel obviously isn’t very interested in what he has to say.

“I’m a geneticist.” He says exasperatedly as you place down each cup. Peter nods at you as you place his coffee and pats a third chair with another winning smile that Mayday echoes. You take a look at the door and then the window. The rain has only gotten worse. You sit and hope for riveting conversation. Miguel gives you a hum of acknowledgement and you join the tables’ conversation and Peter jumps to include you.

“You’re a — see isn’t that great? You know someone for so long and you just,” He gives Miguel a hearty clap on the back and Mayday giggles at the scoff that the larger man gives. “You keep learning things about ‘em. Isn’t that amazing? You can know someone for so long and never know enough huh.” Peter takes a sip of his cappuccino. “Oh my, oh that - that really is fantastic. Miguel buddy, you really know your coffee.” Miguel rolls his eyes and looks towards you. “See he’s always like this! Always this deep broody guy with the weight of the world on his shoulders and he just keeps piling more and more on — that’s why they’re so big y’know — and he just keeps pushing away any relief.” Mayday babbles a little at this as if she’s very wisely agreeing and no one at the table seems to notice the chord that appears to have struck Miguel. “Mhm yep that’s right Daddy’s right about that one, isn’t he!” He presses a kiss to his daughter’s head and Miguel seems to cheer up a little at the laughter that rises. “See if he just took some time for himself-”

“That’s why I’m at a coffee shop.” He mutters to himself, and you know enough Spanish to catch ‘idiot’ “This was time for myself.” He looks to you like he can’t believe he has to put up with this man.

“Yes but you’re always working!” And you think about that for a second because if Miguel is always working, how didn’t Peter know that he was a geneticist. They were close friends after all.

“So Peter, what do you do?”

“Oh I’m a house husband.” He stretches his arms and postures himself proudly. “Yep.” He elongates the word, pops the p for emphasis. “That’s all I ever do. Nothin else.”

“That is all you do. Yes.” Miguel deadpans.

“If you’re a geneticist, mind if I ask?” You speak up and less ill tempered than you thought he might be, Miguel turns to you. “My apartment door has been having a few issues, it’s one of those genetic locks, put a hand on it and it’ll open for you.”

“A little outdated.” He comments.

“Don’t live in a very new apartment, but anyway - very recently it seems to be having some issues?” He seems to sit up as you say this, Peter is playing with Mayday and half paying attention.

“What kinds of issues?” There’s a hard edge to his voice that it almost seems he had tried to shave off. “If you are,” he coughs.

“Comfortable sharing.” You look at him for a bit, both Mayday and Peter have stopped to pay attention.

“Well, recently my door has been malfunctioning a little. I think my neighbor’s kid is getting in because my chairs or tables have moved.”

“M’not gonna have to worry about that with you will I?” Peter pokes his daughter’s cheek gently and smiles. “No I'm not! No I’m not!” Miguel seems to contemplate his response deeply before,

“Are you sure it’s not just old?” He raises a stern eyebrow at you.

“I mean it is, but this is the only issue I've ever had with it; only issue anyone in the building has reported. And we’ve got a classic elevator.” Miguel grumbles at this and doesn’t say anymore. You sit in silence for a little bit, the only sound being the rain and Mayday’s warbles.

“Well, thank you for allowing me to sit-” You almost excuse yourself before Miguel speaks again. There’s something in the way that his hands seem to scrabble at the table and how his eyes seem to widen as you stand from your chair.

“I want to,” Peter and you both turn to look at him as he stares at the cup in front of him. Peter’s eyes widen very unsubtly, “I want to ask you your favorite kind of coffee.” His fingers tap against his biceps.

“Working here made me try a lot of it, and made me realize I like all of it. So I don’t really have a favorite.”

“That’s a good outlook! What’s not to like?” Peter stops abruptly to check his phone. He looks back up frantically. “I gotta get goin though, it’s Miss May’s nap time and she gets real cranky when she misses it. See you later Miguel,” he raises his cup towards you, “Excellent coffee. Really, just exquisite.” He sets his cup down on the table, looks between you and Miguel and puts Mayday back into her little carrier before pulling his umbrella from the holder by the door and exiting into the pouring rain. You see him dash into the street away and dart to the right.

“I,” Miguel starts but the words seem to catch in his throat like they always do.

“You,” You give him a smile “C’mon, talk to me! You’re a regular now,” You take a second to formulate your thoughts. What Peter said explains a lot about his more awkward behaviors. “And probably need someone to talk to if Peter’s right. Don’t keep depriving yourself of joy.” Unlike the previous days where he had avoided your eyes, suddenly he stares into them. You have to wonder, were they always tinged with that red? You had thought they were brown when he first came in, now they're flecked with a ring of maroon. He takes a small sip of his previously untouched coffee and takes a second before responding.

“I was going to ask if you think you’ll be open all day today.” He keeps a straight face, you’re pretty sure there's a hint of warmth in his voice though. “The rain.” He taps the window pane with a large finger.

“Well Miguel,” You don’t notice the way his hand clutches the table, the tense of his shoulders or the lurch in his seat at his name. “I think I’ll be closing early today. Gonna get home, see if I can get that door issue fixed.” You grab Peter’s empty cup and hold it with both hands, offering Miguel a polite smile and nod.

“You’re a hard worker.” He smiles and stands, placing his tiny cup on the table. “It’s refreshing to see. Also very kind.” He pauses before taking a breath and continuing to mutter, “Stupidly kind.” He approaches you slowly. Hands on his hips looking down at you with red eyes. He reaches a hand out, close enough to your cheek that you can feel the warmth radiating from it. He leans down so that your foreheads almost touch, and gently speaks, “Are you sure you’re safe by yourself?” You take a second to process that. Blink as he still looks into your eyes. “You smell good, by the way. Noticed it when I first came in, better than I imagined.” And everything seems to speed up, the rain is louder, your heartbeat palpitates uncomfortably and you hear the blood rushing through your body. He’s been a regular for three days. He’s taken your hand, pat your shoulder and asked your name. He stood outside your shop for an hour this very morning.

“I’m sorry sir, we closed ten minutes ago.” You blink away the tears in your eyes, and try to compose yourself as you say the words.

“What happened to Miguel?” He whispers the words so gently, so strangely vulnerable. His hand lingers by your cheek, fingers twitching. He groans. He shakes his head violently as if it'll make him stop whatever he’s doing. He turns and stands to his full height, eyes leaving yours again. He doesn’t say a word to you as he leaves the shop. You watch him walk slowly into the rain as he leaves and you make sure he doesn’t turn. Immediately you lock the door to the shop, flip the sign to ‘closed’ and pull the blinds. You contact your boss telling them you're closing early and set your sights on getting in touch with law enforcement. The hurdles you have to jump just to get a safe ride home are astounding. Calling the local P.D proves to be useless as all you have are ‘Miguel’ with no last name and ‘abnormally tall’ and those two descriptors don’t get you anywhere. But your distress does seem to affect the other end of the line with some amount of pity, as they dispatch a vehicle to take you home. All it took was a stalker, sobbing your eyes out to a cop and bang, safe ride home with someone comforting you and a shock blanket. Simple really. Oh the joys of being stalked.

“This is where Spider-Man has been hanging out these last few days!” The cop says as you reach your complex. It’s clearly meant to comfort you. “That guy makes the whole city safer, but I don’t gotta tell you that,” They sound like they’re giving you a smile. “Well best be on your way, stay safe and contact us if anything happens, okay?” They point towards the lapel of your jacket, to the Spider-Man pin you got just last week. “Tell ya what, we’ll put in a word with him when we see him next, have him look out for ya.” The cop will probably forget about this in the next few hours and it’ll probably never get back to him, but it’s a kind gesture.

“Thank you.” You exit the vehicle, looking every which way in the rain, checking for shadows along the walls of your complex. You all but run to your apartment and look desperately around for anything taken or misplaced, when you find nothing you turn to your chairs. You’re careful when you stack them against the door. You forgo food and drink in favor of grabbing the emergency metal pipe and decide to sit on your bed to wait for the other shoe to drop. It doesn’t. For hours and hours and hours. The stormy weather never lets up even as it grows darker.

Absolutely nothing seems to happen, save the loud cacophony from outside as Neuva York wakes for the second time of the day, nightlife not being stopped even for the rainstorm. You hear the shouting, the screeches, the loud music that you’ve grown accustomed to sleeping through and like that old classically conditioned dog, it makes you yawn. You look at your malfunctioning door and the small — hopefully effective — barricade and clench your fist tighter around the pipe. Falling asleep now would mean missing if anything were to happen, you try to drill this into your mind, bash it in like it’s a window. No glass shatters to keep you awake however and uneasily you’re lulled to sleep by the sounds of the city.

You wake up to Spider-Man (suddenly you’re able to identify that broad frame, the shocking height and burdened shoulders of Spider-Man who you’d seen three days ago.) leering over your sleeping body. Even if you can’t see his eyes he’s clearly staring at you. For a second you don’t move, try not to breathe as your heart hammers against your ribs. He doesn’t move for what feels like hours as he stares, he must know by now that you’re awake. The neon glow from the window is dull in the night and the rain has finally stopped, no more clubs blast their music. It’s just you and Spider-Man - Miguel.

You take a deep breath and your heart races and suddenly you can feel the metal pipe in your hand. You tighten your grip and immediately swing your wrist as hard as you can.

He stops it with a hand and tears it from your hand. He gives a disappointed growl, and bends the pipe with ease between his two hands.

“I was,” He sighs deeply. “Impulsive today. I had meant to be slow about it. Meant to be patient.” You cannot bring yourself to move as he continues to speak. “Because I am,” His voice spikes suddenly and he sees you flinch. Spider-Man softens his voice, “Patient.” He groans, turns away from staring at you - finally you can breathe again - and bashes his hand against your wall. “It was going to be weeks,” He cannot seem to help himself now, voice raising slowly as he sweeps back to where you are unable to move on your bed. “Until I would talk to you,” You cannot see him from behind the mask. You imagine him with the same stern eyes, haggard and a sneer if his tone is anything to go on. “But you,” His body heaves and before you can throw yourself from the bed and make a break for the door, a monstrous hand finds the back of your head. Fingers card tenderly through your hair before another hand appears on your hip and wrenches your entire body up, face forcibly made to look at his mask as it gives way to blindingly red eyes, iris sclera and pupil all flooded with the sickening red that blood often starts as. “You wanted this.” He softens, as he looks at you, “You wanted my impatience, didn’t you?” His eyes dart to your Spider-Man pin and he gently moves the hand on your hip so that it’s his forearm beneath your thighs and presses you closer to his chest so that you feel his lips drag on the top of your head. “If I had known I would’ve just taken you with me three nights ago.” He releases your grasp on your hair, and you pull away to see the red of his eyes recede like the beach before a tsunami. “See what you do?” He pats your cheek softly, “I’ll make it up to you. You’ve been nothing but foolish and kind. I’ll make this easier, stay still for me.” He offers you that same small smile, and pushes your head upwards to his cheek. You can feel his erratic heartbeat against your chest as Miguel nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck once more before taking a deep whiff of you and while you’re too busy trying to hold back the bile in your throat, he crumples into you and sighs as if this was the happiest he'd been in years. You feel his lips part against your skin and it feels like bugs crawling on you when he rumbles against your neck. You try your best to block out the tender mutterings of “You’re sweeter than….” and “Made for me,” before you feel his fangs sink delicately into your skin.

You pass out from the shock and pain before you feel the warmth of his venom.

#yandere x reader #yandere miguel o'hara #yandere miguel x reader #yandere atsv #miguel o'hara #dark miguel o'hara #yandere spiderman 2099 #atsv x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #atsv miguel

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lululandd · 10 months

Text

── 𝐥 𝐨 𝐬 𝐢 𝐧 𝐠 [ II.]

pairing: simon ‘ghost’ riley x gn!reader

word count: 873

warnings: angst, hurt no comfort, ghost’s pov

note:posted this under a side account thinking i can manage two accounts but im a lazy fuck so that shit is gone and im reposting it here

summary: the first thing he noticed is how you stopped smiling around him.

“How are you dealing with this?” Price sat next to him, defeat written all over his face.

“Poorly.” He murmured, jaw clenching as he looked away from whatever random spot of floor he previously focused his sights on. This is why he doesn’t make friends, doesn’t get attached to people. Johnny was the one exception he thought he could make, and look where it got him.

Price sighs, “Take time off, Simon. Captain’s orders.”

He has a feeling Price is only telling him to take time off because he himself needs time off. Gaz isn’t taking it well either, neither of them has seen the sergeant in days at this point.

Home is the last place he wanted to go back to as of now. He never wanted to come home when he’s like this. He hated coming home to skittish you, always walking on eggshells, making sure you don’t cross boundaries. He can’t stand the meek tone when you absolutely have to break the silence in the room.

So he went hunting.

The smell of blood clung to his clothes no matter how many times he put them in the wash. It only came to him now that he knows how to clean up blood from his clothes, but it was always you that made the smell disappear. Resigning with a deep sigh, he doesn’t know why he had to brace himself when what awaits him at home is nothing but pure love.

Crossing over the threshold of his own home had never felt so foreign. Everything felt like…it had been moved slightly to the left.

It’s ‘coz I'm always right, innit LT?

He bumped the table by the little foyer, making the bowl holding all your keys jingle. Ghost heaves a sigh as your head pops out of a doorway. He didn’t miss the apprehensive few seconds you hesitated to approach him. Whatever’s left of Simon’s already brittle heart chips off into oblivion everytime he sees you cautiously take actions around him the first few days he comes home. You’re always trying to make yourself seem smaller, trying to make as little noise as possible, trying to not disturb him.

Pulling you into his arms, he felt a little warmth seep back into his tired bones.

“Welcome home, Simon.” You whispered softly.

His expression falters, Simon wasn’t there to answer.

The next couple of days were hell as he had seemed to inherit Soap’s sleep paralysis and started to see things coming for you as he lay there useless, limbs frozen. In his head you have died a hundred times in a thousand different ways, the fear is multiplied tenfold as he now sees those images with his eyes wide open. As soon as his sleep paralysis dissipated, he bolted out of the bed. Ghost decided if he has to suffer sleep paralysis he will suffer them alone, so they can’t get to you.

Disappointment spread to every corner of his mind every time he tried to relax. Dozens of scenarios played in his head of what he could’ve done differently on that fateful day. Something deep in his chest unruffled the more he lingered on these thoughts. He didn't know what to do with all the grief, so they turned to anger. Rage was his armour, something he knows very dear, always within arm’s reach. Rage never rejected him, it never looked at him with sad eyes that he would feel guilty for. It took over most of his days, since usually he has nothing else to do but dote on you when he’s home. So he started going out. Gun ranges, pubs, his cabin, he doesn’t care where, he just wants to be in places that would make the pain go away.

He woke up several mornings in a row to a sight of you on the sofa, feet hanging off the edge, blankets in disarray. His eyes flicker to your face, eyes swollen with tear marks on your cheeks. The suffocating pressure on his chest burst, he had to control the urge to just scream his lungs out. This is too much. You won’t even get in bed with him now.

Has he turned into that big of a disappointment?

“Not enough for you anymore, aren’t I?”

“What?”

He didn’t even bother to sit down, a failure of a human being like him doesn’t get luxuries like sitting down next to you.

“You don’t even come to bed anymore.” He answers bluntly.

“You don’t even stay in bed Simon.”

His lips parted for a moment, but he quickly thought of a reason. “I always wake up earlier than you.”

You roll your eyes. His heart dropped. You had never done that to him before, he had only seen you roll your eyes at strangers. There was also a flash of something else that made anger flare up in his chest, something that made him feel like a threat. “Yes. But you don’t stay. You don’t even make me tea anymore, Simon.” The rest of his already brittle heart turns to dust as he hears what you have to say. “Why don’t we just take a break from each other?”

—no, not you too.

But only silence answers.

( reader's pov )

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #call of duty imagines #call of duty #scuffed writing

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l0n3ly-gh0st205 · 1 year

Text

One piece boys having to watch you die

I'm in a sad mood, so here's some angst!

Comments are greatly appreciated! If the spacing is weird it’s cause I pasted this from my notes app

Luffy

It was supposed to be easy, just a tiny rumble with the marines, so why did you have to jump out in front of the sea stone net?

Why did you have to get captured while the rest of the crew ran, not realizing you weren't with them?

Why did you have to get executed?

Luffy would go on a rampage; he was confident in himself, sure he could get you back, determination and anger simmering just under his skin. He’d already lost one person to the marines, and he refused to lose another. The entire crew had stormed the execution platform, but the marines were ready. They didn't spare time, gloating and goading out the pirates as they did with ace.

No, your death was quick; you could barely scream out for your lover as the blades impaled your form.

Luffy thought that your death was too quiet, unfitting for his partner.

He wouldn't think you would be dead, though. No, he would fly onto the platform, holding your broken figure, trying to wake you up, trying to get you home to the thousand sunny. Trying to deny the fact that you were gone.

For a short amount of time, he’d be inconsolable, thinking he should of been faster, stronger, but unlike Ace’s death he had his crew, his family with him this time

They’d all help him grieve, they’d make sure each and everyone single person was okay before starting for there next adventure, because you know luffy wouldn’t stop, he has a goal, and now he’s determined to complete that goal, if not with you by his side, then in your memory.

Zoro

Unlike his captain, your death wouldn't be at the hands of marines if Zoro was your lover. No, Zoro wouldn't have even realized you were killed; he was too caught up in his captain's adventures to think that someone would try and use you to get to him. To break the unbreakable king of hell.

He wouldn't know of your death till the killer was face to face with him, taunting him in a battle about how weak, how useless the swordsman was, that he couldn't even protect what was most dear to him.

Guiltily, Zoro’s first thought would even be about you. He would think of Luffy, of his crew, thinking that he couldn't protect them before coming to you. His sweet S/O, his lover who he thought was hidden away from the prying eyes of the marines and enemies. Oh, how wrong he was. He was quick to find your body after defeating the killer. He blamed himself, blamed himself for being too weak, for not being able to protect you, for even getting you involved with him in the first place; after all, if you never loved him, perhaps you would still be alive.

He’d be extremely distant from the others as a result, Luffy is one of the only people that can actually talk to him if he wanted to. He’s confident in luffy, even in Sanji so he knows he doesn’t have to worry. Both him and Luffy have goals, so they’d continue to strive towards it no matter what.

Sanji

If you died, Sanji would be the most emotionally destroyed cause he almost relies on his ability to protect you and care for you, it gives him a reason to live, and it’s his primary motivation when you are together, compared to you all blue is nothing.

I imagine your death was quiet, not from a battle or someone’s rage. Your end came naturally through illness. Something that not even chopper could control or save you from. You knew you were dying while he didn’t, and it was your choice to force chopper not to tell anyone. You knew how destroyed he would be, and you selfishly couldn’t bare to see it. So you decided to leave him letters and told him to read them when you weren’t around anymore.

At first, he laughed you off, assuming you meant if you ever went on a solo mission, not fathoming the thought that his time with you was limited. As you watched him smile and laugh with his crew, you couldn’t help but feel as though you’d made the right decision; seeing him, so content made you come to terms with your limited time. When you did finally pass, Sanji was inconsolable. He blames himself for not being able to see it in time, he blamed you for not telling him, and he blamed god for burdening you with such an illness when he finally read your letters, detailing your time from knowing your diagnosis to days before you passed his emotions were even worse.

Nami had to take over the cooking while Zoro offered silent support to his friend. But Luffy was probably the most comforting voice through it all, having lost his brother in a similar sudden way, I could imagine Sanji trying to push luffy away, even threatening to leave the sunny till Luffy plopped his hat on Sanji’s head and pulled him into a tight hug, and tells him how you wouldn’t want him to be sad, that you wrote those letters to him to make sure he wasn’t painful, and Sanji would break. His road to recovery was a lot longer than the others.

Ace

If you were to love Ace, you would have to come to terms with most likely dying by his hand. Ace’s flames weren't soothing like Marco’s. They didn't heal. As much as he liked to think he had control over his power, he could still be overcome by emotion. He could still lash out and destroy anything he saw fit. That's why you loved him, of course, and that's why he was white beards, second commander.

I could imagine it being after thatch's death, trying to comfort Ace as he blamed himself for not seeing the signs of betrayal. His power seeped out his rage, his flames taking a mind of their own. Anger and grief burned around him. He could feel you trying, your hands running down his arm, calming him enough to hear your sobs and screams coming from his flames.

It's only when macro forcefully kicks ace away from you that he starts coming to his senses, seeing your burned body, sobbing while begging him to come back to you, seeing how Marco's flames weren't enough to heal you, feeling the other commanders having to hold him down so he couldn't hurt anyone else, it destroyed him.

When he finally calmed down enough to control his flames, he begged to see you, to make sure you were okay, to make sure he didn’t kill you. But Marco was working, tirelessly to save your life, nurses coming in and out while ace begged just to get a glance of you. I can imagine when he’s finally told of your passing, he knows it’s his fault, he knows that he killed you, and he knows that no matter what your blood will always be on his hands. Although unlike with thatch, pops knew that your death was a mistake, and he knew that you would come back to haunt him if he blamed ace.

Of course, just because pops or the crew wasn’t holding him responsible didn’t mean he didn’t think he was, he’d search for teach with new vigor, wanting to turn both of them into the marines. So that both of them could atone for the same sin.

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