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reallyromealone · 1 month

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Title: oh hey a mate(s)

Chapter: one

Fandom: obey me

Pairing: demon brother's x male reader

Warnings: suggestive themes, readers got truama, internalized gender hatred, anxiety, panic attacks, mentions of being a breeding tool, self hate, reader doesn't really understand sex, sexual themes, omegaverse, male reader, mentions of mpreg

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"HE STOLE THEM FROM ME!" (sisters name) Screeched out in a rage as she threw things around "they were supposed to be MY mates! And he stole them! That whore stole them!" She was hyperventilating at this point as her body shook, feeling robbed of her alphas.

Of her life, the thing she wanted more than anything.

"I know sweety but maybe we can set you up wit--"" I don't want someone else! I want the princes!"

And she was going to get them.

She swore it.

'fuck you (name)'

Holy shit this place was big.

God he felt under dressed, especially beside these alphas who were dressed so fancy and perfect.

The floors were marble and two grand staircases winded on each side and paintings that had to be centuries old hung on the walls "we will have one commissioned for you soon enough... Maybe one with us all" Belphegor yawned as he wandered the halls "for now, let's get you settled in" he said and looked to a nervous looking Leviathan who nodded.

(Name) Was nervous as he walked beside the demon who seemed to want to be anywhere but here "I-im sorry if I wasn't who you were expecting... I'll try and not step on your toes" (name) whispered, anxiously fiddling with his fingers and looked down "i-i dont-- fuck... I'm really nervous and anxious and just I don't really talk to omegas often so I'm just--" the demon seemed panicked and (name) felt relief flood through his veins as he pumped out calming pharamones for the Alpha "hey... I get it, if it's any consolation... I'm not great with people either-- hell I think this is the first time I ever left my families property!" He laughed a bit but Leviathan was shocked at his words "you never been into the capital or even your home town?" He asked genuinely and (name) shook his head "nah, my parents didn't trust me going out there-- you know how troublesome an Omega can be"

What the fuck? That's all Leviathan could think as he looked at the Omega worried "I- you're not troublesome?" He whispered and (name) just smiled "I try not to be" (name) giggled a bit as they continued to (name)s apartment, the Omega expecting a quaint bedroom but...

"I think we went to the wrong room.... This is awfully big" (name) said softly to the envy demon who looked confused "you like your apartment?" Asmodeus popped out from nowhere and pulled (name) close with a flirty grin "we had the butlers being your things in, don't worry we didn't let them unpack... Pharamones and all that ~" he pulled (name) into the apartment and (name) felt overwhelmed by all this "there's a nesting room there~ if you need help don't hesitate to ask"

"A-are you sure?"

"Sure of what?"

"That this is for me?"

"You are to be our mate, I personally wanted you with me but Luci wanted you to have your own space... Something about acclimating" his words teasing and (name) chuckled but cut short when his stomach growled and the two demons looked curious "oh yeah! Humans need to eat for survival!"

(Name) Felt embarrassed as he silently cursed his stomach for exposing him like this as the demons looked at one another in a silent conversation.

They were definitely having a sibling meeting later.

(Name) Dissociated during the rest of the evening, eventually ending back in the rooms he was given, the size of his old house if not a bit bigger...

Everything was pristine as he took out his belongings, his prized possessions and small hobbies to occupy him.

A few heirlooms and books and his childhood stuffed toy 'this will go in my nest' he thought as he looked at the nesting room doors, two ornate doors in a rose gold shade, the apartment all light colors unlike the rest of the palace.

It was a strange contrast, almost like they didn't know what to expect so they just made what they thought humans liked. It was funny really, demons trying to understand what humans wanted or needed as he was doing the same, wondering what these demons wanted or liked.

Getting up he went to the nesting room and was overwhelmed by the nesting supplies he was given, piles and piles of blankets and pillows and soft things, his purring could probably be heard from outside the apartment as he snuggled into them, a sense of safety he wasn't quite used to washing over him.

He was excited to make a large nest, spending half the night making it perfect for him to rest in and just not think about the fact he was to be mated on his next heat to seven strangers that were also fucking royalty! Well there goes not thinking about it because here he was!

Also his sister! Holy shit she was mad! And like at his wedding she will be there! Fuuck!

(Name) Was just sitting there head in hands as he processed the fact that within 24 hours he was now engaged and now in the public eye!

(Name) Curled up closer into his blankets and let out a shutter of a sigh, he wondered if he would be able to do the things he enjoyed before... Would he be allowed to garden? Would he have to dress more Omegan? Or would he be able to wear clothes that were comfortable?!

He needed to walk, movement to process this.

Getting up he walked out of his apartment and into the hall, dark and grand, ceilings at least 15 feet tall and paintings lined, some he recognized as the siblings and some unfamiliar as he walked around curiously.

Somehow he made it to the kitchen "I hope they don't mind..." (Name) Whispered as he sliced an apple, careful and gentle as his stomach growled a bit.

"Can I have some?" A voice startled him out of his thoughts causing him to slice his finger "shit!" The voice said and (name) looked to see Beelzebub who in turn looked a bit startled as he took (name)s bleeding finger and put it in his mouth, the Omega looking thoroughly concerned as Beelzebub sucked on the blood "I feel like this is incredibly unsanitary" (name) whispered worried and beez released his finger "demons saliva can heal amongst other things, depends on the demon really"

"Oh " (name) said dumbly as he looked at his wet but healed finger "what else does your saliva do?" He asked curiously and Beelzebub smiled at the others cute and curious expression "ah, well besides healing my saliva can work as an aphrodisiac if ingested!" (Name) Looked concerned and Beelzebub laughed "don't worry, it only works if I were to like make out with you or eat your ass!"

And now (name) was flustered as the gluttony demon kept laughing at his embarrassment "so why are you up so late?" Beelzebub asked after calming down and sealing some apple slices and cutting up some more, handing (name) an orange "just... It's stupid"

"Oh please!" Beelzebub pushed and (name) sighed "I'm just... I'm having trouble processing this stuff, it's stressful and like-- I never left my property let alone this! My sister wanted to be with you guys and she's already insufferable, this is just worse! I'm just paranoid that you guys are going to realize that like this was a mistake and reject me and like the fear of being an Omega in general! Will I be able to do the things i enjoyed before? Will I be a breeding tool?!" He was hyperventilating now as Beelzebub panicked "hey hey, calm down! It will be alright and-- no we aren't making you a breeding Omega.... shhh" beez tried to calm him as footsteps quickly made their way to the kitchen.

"What is happening?" Lucifer and the others seemed startled as the smell of distress was heavy in the kitchen "he's worried we will strip him of his rights and make him carry our young" Beelzebub explained as he lifted (name) into his arms and set him on the counter "were demons but we aren't monsters" Satan said disgusted and Asmodeus smiled "we would never do that unless it's what you're into~" he teased the Omega as they crowded him "I know it's an incredibly hard adjustment but know we mean well, it's literally impossible for us to not fall for each other" it's true soulmates would eventually fall for one another due to the bond "and we are sharing one mate so that means you have seven people to love you" mammon said in a rare moment of genuine care "what do you mean?"

"Oh yeah, he knows basically nothing about secondary gender or soulmates" Levi said softly and the demons looked horrified "well I know what we are doing tomorrow" Satan said simply and (name) looked ashamed and couldn't meet their eyes, feeling stupid for his lack of knowledge.

"Well his town is backwards" Belphegor yawned and wandered off back to bed now that the problem was solved "goodnight...."

(Name) Was led back to his room by Beelzebub and Asmodeus and looked confused when they put sweaters in his arms "the smell of your alphas will calm you~" Asmodeus said simply and the two wished him a good night.

And for once?

He sleped peacefully.

(Name) Spent the next few days learning about soulmates and secondary genders, the two interlocking "when your heat comes, it will be dangerous for you to not mate with your soulmate" (name) read the book in his off time, the book explaining how the bonding is key to not cause rejection symptoms or a drop, he definitely didn't want that. Fuck how does he have sex? Fuck.

Time to go figure that out, he really felt behind on this shit.

(Name) Made home in the library as he looked for any books that would aid him "Hmm? Looking for sex books ~ didn't know our omega was like that" Asmodeus seemed to love just appearing out of thin air and scaring (name) who dropped the book "i-i it's not like that!"

"Hmmm? And what is it about? Oh you're so cute when your flustered!" He cooed and (name) huffed "I am trying to figure out like, how sex works and stuff... I wasn't exactly taught... Just put on suppressants so my family could avoid it" he just constantly felt ashamed with them, their faces of realization and pity as (name) tried not to cry "well, if you like I could teach you~ don't worry I won't touch you where you don't like" Asmodeus could get used to his omega so flustered as he got closer, his alpha giddy at his mate being untouched "the first thing one should know is their body after all~"

"I- uh... I'm not sure..."

Asmodeus let his lips barely touch (name)s as he caged him against a bookshelf and smiled, his tail flickering and (name) seemed a bit startled by it All as the demon gently kissed him "that was... Uh.." "your first kiss?"

"Yeah..."

"Did you like it?"

(Name) Could only nod as the lust avatar giggled sweetly at his adorable Omega "oh, you're going to fit in nicely here~!" He doted on (name) a bit "don't worry darling, we won't do anything your not ready for but if you're willing... To experiment a bit, I'm always a summon away" and with that he was gone, (name) left with nothing more than the smell of his pharamones, sweet Jasmine and warm vanilla.

It wasn't till after lunch that Lucifer brought him to the gardens, a small greenhouse and a garden plot stood "we had it cleaned up, you said you liked gardening" he said simply and looked down at (name) who looked like he was given the potion of youth "really? Thank you so much..." (Name) Was releasing the happiest pharamones and Lucifer kept composure but god damn did that boost his ego as an alpha, making his mate happy.

"Just clean yourself off after you finish" Lucifer said calmly and (name) beamed at this "of course!"

(Name) Puttered in the greenhouse and began planting things, thankfully it was early in the season so he had time to make a nursery for plants "oh, sor--" (name) immediately shut up as he saw Belphegor sleeping in a sun beam, cozy and calm. Looking around (name) found his cape that Satan had made for him and covered the demon with it "it's still chilly" he whispered and went back to work, unaware the demon was awake and watching intently at the Omega who was carrying heavy pots and sacks of soil around.

(Name) Kept quiet for the Alpha, he must be so exhausted to fall asleep in a greenhouse of places so it would be best to let him rest! Eventually (name) moved outside, it was less chilly but a slight chill but movement will keep him warm! Using twine he found in the greenhouse he sectioned spots of the garden plots for various things like carrots and garlic amongst others, they were still in the nursery but it's good to get things ready now, he reasoned with himself.

"Your Highness! It's quite cold!" A servant panicked as she saw (name) in nothing more than a shirt and pants and apron, dirt on his cheek "don't worry! I'm alright!" He reasoned but she was not having it and removed her cape "it's not good for an Omega to be cold like this!"

Before she could drape the cape on (name), he felt fur on his shoulders as Mammon smiled with a warning "don't worry, he's warm" his eyes telling the servant to leave and (name) looked confused "oh hello!" (Name) Smiled at the demon who felt annoyed at how sweet the other was, his bond making his heart beat fast "Luci wanted me to take you into town so get ready" he grumbled and (name) nodded, a simple smile on his face as he wandered to the palace "where's your cape anyways?! It's freezing for mortals!" He chastised and (name) chirped "Belphegor was sleeping and I wanted him to be cozy!" (Name) Couldn't explain why he felt so calm and comfortable with the princes but they made him feel safe, even if they were sometimes like angry chihuahuas.

"You're weird" mammon said with no bite as they walked to (name)s area.

The tailors and seamstresses worked tirelessly to put together some clothes for (name) and his new class, the maids commenting about how the seamstress always kept embroidered sleeves on hand as the brothers always tore clothes during training--- well save for Asmodeus and Belphegor who couldn't be fucked to do stuff like that.

(Name) Felt regal, a beautiful vest made of silk and embroidered with birds and roses and a linen powers shirt and nice pants and expensive boots "you look wonderful your Highness!" A maid commented, (name) growing fond of his personal maids who cheered him in, them all being mated and married betas.

(Name) Was curious as he looked around the city, never really interacting with so many people who looked at he two in awe, the guards keeping a fair distance as he looked at stalls "you seriously never been in a city?" Mammon said incredulously and (name) looked confused "no? It's not right for an Omega to be by himself around alphas, I would be a temptation" reiterating his parents words and Mammon was horrified at the omegas genuine belief that HE was the problem and not alphas who couldn't keep their hands to themselves "well we are unpacking that later"

He didn't even want to get into the family thing, remembering the chat he had with his brothers when (name) had his meltdown and the acceptance that their Omega came from a very problematic living situation but he seemed to be acclimating well.

Or at least he hoped.

Mammon was confused as (name) handed him a stuffed bunny "what is this?" He raised an eyebrow from behind his circular sunglasses "well we didn't get to actually court because of being soulmates so I got you all courting gifts" he chirped out innocently, remembering what he was taught by Lucifer and deciding to put it in action though he seemed to have gotten it backwards as it was supposed to be the Alpha who gave the courting gifts.

"I- uh... Thank you?"

(Name) Seemed pleased as they continued their walk through the cities market, a giant hub of the equally giant city as Mammon stared at the bunny that was made of fabric the same color as his eyes, a small detail that made him flustered.

He noticed (name) budgeting, a soft smile on his face "you know we have basically endless money, right?" Well mammon didn't, he was cut off and put on a strict budget but (name)? He still had his money privileges "that's your money, this is so much!" To (name) it was a lot of money as he did the budgeting of the house back with his family, this was ten times of what they made in a year! "I am fine with this"

Hell, how did they get the exact opposite of them?!

A nervous Omega who was innocent and naive and sweet as honey!

"Oh you are absolutely precious!" Asmodeus cooed at the stuffed rabbit that fit in his hands "I hadn't even thought of courting!" He said with exaggerated sadness and (name) watched the others alphas reactions, though it wasn't the fanciest courting gift, it was a genuinely thoughtful one.

"He was worried about spending the money, he literally budgeted it" mammon groaned and Lucifer snorted "you could do well to learn that" he said as (name) seemed reminded and handed him back the coin bag, the Omega barely dented it "I got a few things for my hobbies but I brought back the change!" He said sweety and Lucifer had cute aggression at that moment as (name) looked at him with so much pride "you know you could have spent all of this right?" He said a little slow, (name) nodding "but that would be rude, I'm spending all your money without care... I don't like that"

Seriously, how did they manage to be fated with the sweetest Omega?!

"He didn't even but himself actual things for himself! He bought things to make us things!" Mammon groaned out but they all knew he equally swooned at the fact their Omega was so sweet.

But also he didn't buy himself anything, Asmodeus has had to bring him to eat and Beelzebub would put food on it.

"Rural Omega culture is different than cities, they're treated more as a commodity" a maid explained to Asmodeus one night as she helped him get ready for bed, she herself being an alpha from the boonies "an inconvenience would be a better word though, everything your saying shows he was treated like how my love got treated, need to make them feel genuinely valued" she went to explain how omegas need regular scenting and assurance to keep mentally regulated and (name) probably never had that.

Which would explain why he seemed like he was constantly waiting for the next shoe to drop despite growing used to them.

Like it was all going to go away.

His dreams were often that, every night he dreamt of waking up in his old room as his sister lived the life she wanted and he was stuck in that musty bedroom where he would rot.

"Your dreams are noisy" Belphegor mumbled as he crawled into bed with (name) and held him close, pumping out pharamones as he thought smugly about the fact he's technically been in bed with (name) before the others. (Name) Snuggled in his chest and physically relaxed, chirping in his sleep as he clung helplessly to him and he was hooked.

He wanted this more and was already annoyed he would have to share with his brothers.

(Name) Let his mates to be plan the wedding though he and Beelzebub thought of food together, the demon horrified at how little foods he got to experience and made him try everything for the wedding and smiled at his happy face with good food "these are mirangue cookies! Like eating plaster that loves you!" He exolained and (name) basically melted at now delicious it was.

Beelzebub was more than happy to share food with him, his alpha wanting the Omega to be well fed to carry his pups after all.

They were all anxious for mating, their bond slowly making them VERY intense about (name) who after weeks, finally sat close to Satan as he read with him though (name) did struggle a bit "omegas being taught to read is laughable, I taught myself as much as I could" he explained and that's when Satan decided he would read for (name), the two spending an hour or two in the library reading together like how Lucifer spent his time teaching (name) new things when he wasn't busy or just dragging him along with things.

(Name) Was always well behaved, he thought of (name)s family and how they were... How did this come out of THAT.

But now, (name) had one worry...

Would he invite his family to his wedding?

#obey me x male reader #obey me x reader #demon brother's x reader #demon brothers #male reader #x male reader #omegaverse #omega male reader #obey me omegaverse #anime x male reader #anime x reader #Asmodeus x male reader #Lucifer x male reader #Beelzebub x male reader #Belphegor x male reader #Leviathan x male reader #mammon x male reader #satan x male reader #reader insert

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trashogram · 2 months

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He Chose You (P. 5)

Lucifer/Reader — Lucifer wants you to be the mother of his child. Rated E for the smut. FINALLY

(Hope none of y’all were planning to actually get off though).

“You want a… baby?”

Lucifer looked as stunned as you felt. He reminded you of a spooked deer — frozen and wide-eyed as he waited for imminent death. Or more aptly a dying fish as his mouth opened and closed soundlessly.

“… To hang out with?”

Lucifer found himself in your apartment for the second time, milling about beside your coffee table. He internally scolded himself for fidgeting and shifting from one foot to the other, but it was either that or burn a hole in your head with his hopeful gaze.

“No!” He let out a pathetic laugh. “Well, yes, b-but obviously not just that! I know there’s more to it than just ‘hanging out’.”

“I'm not stupid.” He chortled again before glancing at you. “… I’m not that stupid.”

The King had the uneasy feeling that you might see right through him now; find that inkling of excitement still germinating in his breast, and change your mind. Or worse, you’d withdraw even more and he’d have to feel that dreadful, terrible, no good shame.

He had practically skipped through the halls of his castle (unbeknownst to you) with the contract held tightly between his claws. But as soon as he entered your fireplace, the excitement had curdled like milk. It was replaced by that shame when he looked at you and saw your ashen face.

“Obviously you wouldn’t be doing this for free!” Lucifer gesticulated wildly. “You, you said you wanted to travel right? Right! If you agree, you’d get to travel wherever you want, whenever you want, no strings attached!”

“A-and also! No more costs, period! All your bills and expenses paid forever, in perpetuity, beyond the grave! Capitalism is a bitch? No, capitalism WAS a bitch!”

“No, no! Capitalism will be YOUR BITCH!”

Your resigned countenance combined with the memory of his pitch made Lucifer flinch.

——

You were never very good in a crisis. Or under a severe amount of pressure… or a moderate amount, in all sincerity.

But you’d have thought, even with the prospect of homelessness looming over your head, that you’d have drawn the line at making a Deal with the Devil to avoid it.

Or at least you would’ve taken more than the time it took to draw up a legal contract to accept your fate.

That time maxed out to 6 days.

The scroll unfurled before you. It radiated an ethereal golden light, and lined with a litany of official statements occasionally broken up by blank spaces meant for a (second) signature.

Lucifer Morningstar was signed here and there, in the same glittery calligraphy as was on his business card.

‘This contract must be interpreted by the Governances of Heaven [Heofon, Himmel, Kem, ἄκμων, آسمان, अश्मन्] and any litigations associated with Hell [Hel, Hallju, Kel]…’

‘… By this contract, Party A agrees to carry the Seed of Party B, hereafter known as “Father”, to the extent of natural gestation as governed by the Law of Nature…’

‘… This union shall be recognized only within the parameters listed and not heretofore or after…’

The legal jargon was giving you a headache. You scrubbed a hand down your face, determined to at least read through it all and, if you couldn’t pick out tiny discrepancies, at least find any giant red flags.

(Even if you’d already reserved the excuse that it was easy to be tricked by the Devil when the Devil was insanely good at presenting himself as a theatrical little man who wore his heart on his suit sleeve).

Then again, would it not just be easier to sign away your life without regard to the consequences?

Lucifer twitched when you groaned on your seat at the table. “Problem?”

You rose slowly from your hunched position to make eye contact. “… My pen isn’t working.”

You demonstrated by scribbling randomly on the sticky notepad beside his scroll. Lucifer responded instantly, left hand flexing in the air and, with a flashy poof, snatching a fancy pen out of thin air.

“You can keep it” He said, grinning as you accepted it with a sour look.

“Thanks… show-off.” You began scribbling your name in half-assed cursive on every blank line in sight.

The grin on Lucifer’s face became borderline manic as soon as you’d crossed your ‘t’s and dotted your ‘i’s. His teeth glinted in the light from your cheap-ass lamp and it made you wince as you handed the rolled up document back to him.

“Um, can we maybe skip the kissing stuff?” You asked. “I don’t really want to cut my tongue open.”

His wounded expression tugged rather annoyingly at your heart.

“Sorry.”

The smile he gave your mumbled apology was strained at best. “No, no I understand. The fangs were daunting to me when I first got them, too.”

You cocked your head, thoughts materializing like the web of a spider.

“That’s actually something we should talk about.” You voiced your thoughts. “Are we compatible? Down there?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean — you don’t have teeth down there, too… right?” You asked. “Or some kind of eldritch horror miasma that I can’t touch lest I fall into a coma from ecstasy? Or a tentacle?”

“No!” Lucifer looked mortified. “Wh-what is wrong with you humans?!”

“I’m sorry! I’m just asking!” You cried.

You continued when his expression stayed stagnant. “Look, I’m sorry if I offended you but I’m about to become intimately acquainted with… it, and I think I should be prepared!”

Your hellish companion stood, eyes closed, hands folded over his mouth as if in prayer. He breathed in slowly, then out.

“You’re right, you’re right. I’m sorry it’s… it’s been a while since I’ve been with a human.” He reasoned. “It’s good to ask questions. It’s—that’s a good one. Do you have any more?”

That made you pause. There were millions of things you could ask the King of Hell and yet not one thing could properly formulate in your brain.

“Um, I need a second to think about it.” You muttered. “What about you? My setup is pretty basic? I guess? I have a womb. At least I did, at my last physical a year and a half ago.”

Lucifer’s lips twitched upward in a half-smile and there was an answering flutter from your stomach. “I know.”

Your eyebrows shot up and he immediately started babbling. “I mean! I know because the contract went through! The ink would’ve turned red… or disappeared… To be honest, I don't know. I haven’t made a deal in a long time, ha ha. But I remember something happens when there’s a technical issue!”

“Ah,” You felt better with that explanation.

Kind of.

“I thought of a question, actually. Sorry.” You shrugged sheepishly. “It’s probably in the contract but…”

You swallowed down your trepidation. “… I won’t die, right?”

Suddenly unable to look him in the eye, you faced the floor and missed the way Lucifer’s face fell.

“Barring the normal risks that come with being pregnant, nothing else is gonna happen, right? Or if it does, it won’t be agonizing?” You asked quietly.

A moment of silence passed before the ex-Angel’s fingers curled under your chin. Your head rose and you saw Lucifer's eyes soften from something sharper and more determined.

“I will do everything in my power to protect you and the baby.” He said firmly. “Nothing terrible will happen to either of you. I swear.”

It was strange, the effect his words had on you. The jittery feeling in your chest slowly disappeared, and the tears forming in your eyes didn’t fall.

“Okay.” You nodded with a barely there, watery smile.

——

“I’m gonna turn off the lights, ok?” You said over your shoulder.

Lucifer was undoing the last of the buttons of his dress shirt, vest and overcoat already laid neatly over your desk. He met your gaze, eyes bright.

“Of course.” His close-lipped smile struck you, but you flipped the light switch before you could think on it.

A lack of light did very little to suppress Lucifer. He seemed to glow like the star of his namesake, flourishing in the dark and hard to miss. You simply hoped, as you pulled at your sleeves, his shine wouldn’t illuminate the terrain of your body.

Cold air hit your skin, goosebumps rose along your bare arms and shoulders, but you persisted. When everything was shucked save for your underwear, you moved to your bed and realized Lucifer was still standing at the baseboard.

With arms crossed, you assumed the same position at the side of the bed. “Um?”

“Ladies first!” He chimed, as if reading your mind.

You sighed, then slowly climbed onto the mattress and awkwardly pulled the comforter from under your butt. You settled and patted a spot in front of you.

Hesitantly, Lucifer accepted the invitation, and he was sitting next to you before you could blink.

No going back now.

You shifted in your spot uneasily. Fuck, it had been a long time since you had sex.

How did you start this shit again?

No kissing — per your own request. You had half a mind to take it back while you sat there floundering, trying not to let the tangible awkwardness break your resolve entirely.

You could do this. For a lifetime of no work, no bills, no cares.

You could do this.

A bit of movement in the dark caught your eye. You glanced down and realized that Lucifer was twiddling his thumbs waiting for you.

The laugh came bubbling from your throat before you could stop it. Reaching out, you grabbed one of his hands and tugged him forward.

You could see his throat constrict as he swallowed and smiled questioningly. “What?”

Lucifer yelped when you laid back, taking him with you.

——

“Ah! F-fu — Slow down!” You scolded, words muffled as you were repeatedly pushed down into the pillows.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, you just,” Every word was punctuated by a sharp snap of his hips against the flesh of your ass. “Feel. So. Fucking. Good.”

Lucifer moaned loudly as he continued to lose himself in the sensation. You could only groan, irritation building as your partner refused to give you even the most basic attention. The frustration peaked quickly, then unraveled as his pleasured moans and squeaks caused your stomach to somersault over and over again.

You clenched around his cock when he whined, thrusting into you so deeply you felt the base of him stretching your hole that much wider.

Well, fuck you for finding the sound of a masculine voice cracking the hottest thing in all of creation.

But it was actually getting you there, so what were you complaining for?

Eyes closed, you focused on the feeling, trying to jump off that precipice with only penetration. It reminded you of when you were a teen, awkwardly feeling around down there. Of trying to find the appeal in your fingers inside of somewhere so sensitive against the fear of hurting yourself. All while you worked yourself up with your own imagination.

In a perfect world, you would’ve moved on from that stage of life with no repeat performances. Hopefully, it could still be salvag—

You gripped the pillows that hadn’t tumbled off the juddering mattress when Lucifer’s claws dug into your hips. He pulled you as close as humanly possible with a strangled yelp, shivering, shuddering, stammering incoherence as warmth flooded your insides.

Fuck’s sake.

——

You were disappointed, but not surprised. All you could do after the fact was bury yourself in the covers and watch Lucifer catch his breath beside you.

Not finishing aside, exhaustion from the entire ordeal made you indolent and your thoughts hazy. You studied your partner as he calmed down, clearly trying not to be too close to you now that the deed was done.

Lucifer’s hair was in disarray, the space between his eyes and across his cheeks rosy like the blots parallel to his smile.

“Hey.”

Lucifer looked at you innocently, waiting. You could physically feel your walls crumbling down despite yourself.

“Come here.” You murmured, hand sliding beneath the covers to touch that poreless skin.

Damn you and your soft heart.

‘Actually…’ You had Lucifer in your arms, his body still warm. Once he was in your grasp, the King melted against you.

He looked a little afraid as you tilted him up by the chin to look at you. The Devil had surprisingly soulful eyes, questioning whatever you had in store.

The tiny thought that he was being way too vulnerable drew a taut, uncomfortable feeling your chest.

“Kiss me.”

Lucifer blinked in rapid succession — surprise, wonder, confusion and hope bloom all at once on his unusual face.

It made you laugh in the quiet, comfortable darkness of your room before you yourself leaned in and met his lips with your own. The line of Lucifer’s mouth trembled, but he reciprocated with only minor hesitation.

* Tag List: @crescent-z, @for-hearthand-home, @undertale-is-sansational, @loslox, @navierkalani, @yaimlight, @ivoryviness, @crystalplays28, @flowerempress, @wally-darling-hyperfixation, @altruisticradiodemon, @moonlight-readings, @halparkebitch, @charliecharlie65, @sockgoblin, @cocomollo, @caniseethefourthsword, @squeegeeclean, @crow-twink, @an-emovision, @marydragneell, @lafy-taffy, @fandom-imagines1,

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#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar

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silkjade · 3 months

Text

SPARKS AMIDST THE SNOW

scaramouche x reader ⤀ warnings: gn!reader, second chance romance ⤀ synopsis: he meets you again for the first time since erasing himself from irminsul, and new hope flickers in the barren cold. a/n: for the best reading experience, pls think of the outro to all too well (10 min version) while u read this !

when scaramouche inevitably accompanies the golden haired traveller on their journey to snezhnaya, the last thing he expected was a pit stop in your little village on the outskirts of the capital. and although his puppet body does not shrink in the face of this nation's biting cold, his skin burns under the curious, yet cautious, gaze of those once familiar to him.

he keeps his head down, dipping his hat so that its large brim might hide his visage, eager to avoid any unwarranted attention. still, his eyes cannot help but wander and his heart, imaginary as it may be, cannot help but wonder.

were you well? the last he'd seen of you, he had promised to return a god—one who would whisk you away from the barren cold of snezhnaya to live out your days in glory as his mortal consort. but for all that had transpired, and then that fateful traipse beneath the irminsul, he's now no more than just another stranger passing through—fleeting as the falling snow, just another memory to be buried in the desolate stillness of winter.

he cares not for the stars in the sky, yet somehow they still dictate that his traveling companions would task him with purchasing commodities, of course from your family's stall. he's long grown out of his naivety; knows that in this infinite realm of possibilities, there’d always be the chance of meeting you again, slim as it may be. if it really came to, he had been prepared to let you live your life, free of him this time around, but it seems this world has its own twisted sense of humor, for he cannot tear his eyes from the ring that sits upon your finger.

"that ring. where did you get it?" he's never been one for small talk, but the biting curiosity rivals that of the wind, as it chips away at his exterior. he keeps his tone even, ignoring the multitude of emotions whirring in his head, though irritation clearly seems to buzz the loudest.

it should have been impossible that a ring he'd forged with his own hands should still exist, but as the fate of this world has yet to reflect that… if he hadn't given you the ring, then how? or perhaps even who... the cold, gunmetal glint laughs in his face as your swift fingers wrap up his purchase.

the stranger's question takes you by surprise, and you look up, taken aback by the intensity of his indigo gaze—beautiful, and bitter, and so blatantly familiar, yet you cannot quite figure out why.

your village is nowhere near the main road, so it isn't often that you'd host any foreign guests; even if you did, you're sure you'd remember if someone like that were to ever have passed through. nevertheless, you flex your fingers, pulled out of your thoughts by his impatient sigh.

"I'm not sure. I've had it ever since I could remember."

you're the same as he remembers, he thinks. a rose amidst the snow, with frost resting in your hair and on the curls of your lashes. out of habit, he takes your hand, inspecting the ring at a closer proximity.

'how rude,' you think. and yet your hand in his, feels comfortable, and warm, and right. like an electric charge drawing two magnets home to the other. it’d be blasphemy to pull away, but you manage to do so anyway, furrowing your brows at his boldness, the frown on your lips more so a reflection of your confusion, rather than displeasure.

“if you wanted to look, you could’ve just asked,” you mumble, as you slip the ring off your finger, offering it to him in the palm of your hand.

the detailed metalwork, the particular branding imprinted in the iron… there’s no denying the influence of the raiden gokaden, though it was perhaps, a subconscious decision made from muscle memory. in hindsight, he thinks that, in the moment, he must have felt—still feels—that same overwhelming affection that came as second nature to kabukimono. after all, it was forged as a promise of his love, and there’s no question about it when, hidden beneath his clothes, its pair hangs on a chain around his neck.

"it’s made with excellent craftsmanship," he boasts, "any merchant worth their weight, would give you a good price for it." he figures you might as well get something out of it, and a piece like this, though meaningless now, is still sure to last you until at least the next winter.

but a stubborn pout is painted across your snow-kissed features. "absolutely not! it’s actually quite dear to me, you know..."

scaramouche scoffs at the irony. ‘why?’ he wants to ask. he is not foolish enough to believe himself an exception from the rules of this world; not when he's already convinced himself to give up on chasing the impossible. still, here you are, turning destiny on its head—his heart, right within reach.

“it can’t be that dear, if you’d so willingly hand it off to a stranger.” his face reveals nothing, though he cannot say the same for the bile that rises in his throat. he crosses his arms, a brow raised in skepticism. "how do you know I won't run off with it right now?"

“I don’t,” you start, “so I suppose you could call it a leap of faith.”

“or a doomed attempt at flight,” he counters. “you’d leave something so precious up to fate?”

you ponder for a moment as to why you feel so drawn to this stranger, why this back and forth comes so easily, why you seem to somehow just trust him.

"we don’t get many visitors here,” you start, “and as fate should have it, the day we do, it happens to be someone as interesting as you. that must count for something, no?”

the realist he’s learned to embody rolls his eyes at such ridiculous notions: your blind optimism… putting such faith in these false stars…. but the tenderness he had buried begs to differ, planting roots between the cavities of his chest, sprouting until it breaks through the surface.

he takes a further study of the intricate details, the careful inazuman script engraved on its body. ‘my heart,’ he had wrote.

scaramouche dips his head as his fingers close a fist around the piece, the large brim of his hat hiding the fondness glimmering in his eyes, and the ghostly smile settling on his lips. he does not cringe as he recalls the lingering remnants of kabukimono's innocence: stubbornly deluding himself to believe that his hollowed chest was naught for his natural lack of a heart, but because fate had dictated you to be its keeper.

perhaps the warmth of sumeru had indeed rubbed off on him—melted the frost that crawled upon and tore his skin, whilst teaching him to hope again, not for anyone else’s sake, but for his own. what was that vahumana saying? it’s difficult for people to truly understand themselves—and as much as he’d like to disagree, judging by his current predicament, he knows he cannot.

“have you ever considered that this ring might be one half of a pair?” he tosses it in the air, nonchalantly, as if he were merely flipping a coin, catching it mid-way before you have the chance to swipe it back.

“what do you suppose fate would have to say about that?”

it’s almost impossible to tell whether he’s truly genuine in his queries, but the mischievous gleam in his bright eyes, and the smug look on his face, seem to nullify any regards you may have had. your brows twitch in vexation. was he not just here to buy provisions? and yet he toys with you so…

“well if that were the case, then it would be between me and whoever owns the other half,” you huff, reaching over once again in an attempt to snatch back your belonging, only to miss by mere seconds thanks to a quick slight of his hand.

breathing out something between a chuckle and a scoff, scaramouche tugs at the thin chain around his neck, hard enough for it to snap right off, and toss in your direction.

"a leap of faith," he says plainly. it lands in the palms of your hands: a ring, near identical. 'my soul' it reads. if he lacked a heart, then it could only have been forged from his soul.

a flurry of questions swarm in your head, as you stare at his ring. you want to ask him why and how, but he's already pivoted away, the tassels of his hat barely missing you by inches, as he quickly grabs his purchase.

“who are you,” you manage to blurt out, calling out to him, and asking him to wait, so he might answer these questions he’s planted in your heart, but he only bids you farewell with a lazy wave of his hand.

though there's nothing he'd like more than to hear the sweet song of his name falling from your lips, he's learned it best to leave the past where it belongs. once he's settled his scores... then he'll get his second chance with you—he'll make sure of it, vowing to come back for you, not as kunikuzushi who you had once known him, but he hopes you might one day be able to love him as he is, as well.

‘my soul.’ your new ring reads. you shake your head, pursing your lips at the mysterious wanderer, wondering if you’d ever see him again, but a gust of wind blows your way—not a prickling cold as you’re used to, but a warm summer breeze that seems to caress your cheeks oh so sweetly.

perhaps it's only in your head, but you swear the wind seems to carry the whisper of a name in its flurry. 'and don't you forget it,' it seems to say.

a/n2: pleaseeee associate this with the outro of all too well (10 min version) like imagine the camera slow panning out amidst the falling snow, to the hopes of another chance together (⸝⸝o̴̶̷᷄‸o̴̶̷̥᷅⸝⸝) anyways, tysm for reading, reblogs/feedback vry much appreciated ♡

#— 𝓼𝓲𝓰𝓷𝓮𝓭 𝓙. ༯ #genshin impact x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #astronetwrk #scaramouche fluff #scaramouche x you #genshin impact x you #wanderer x you #genshin x reader #genshin drabble #scaramouche drabble #scaramouche x reader fluff #genshin impact

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forzaferraris · 2 months

Text

NOTHING MATTERS — op81

pairing: oscar piastri x fem! engineering intern! reader

summary: the best way to get over someone who broke your heart is to get under someone else and (unintentionally) break theirs. / inspired by nothing matters by the last dinner party, listen on spotify here !

style: primarily written with a single smau element at the end.

warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, smut, unprotected sex ((p in v) please wrap it before you tap it)), oral (m! receiving) finger sucking, sub/don undertones but nothing serious, i swear on my life oscar piastri is a grunt and groaner but simultaneously considerably vocal during sex (i will die on that rock), afab! reader, readers kinda uncaring about who she hurts because she’s hurt, reader is referred to as she/her, miscommunication trope, oscar piastri has been in love with reader since the beginning of the season and just assumed one-sided pining. authors refusal to write with capitals, you can pry them out of her cold dead hands.

faceclaim: sofia dirado, although feel free to imagine reader as anyone else.

word count: 4.1k +

YOU WERE NO STRANGER TO HEARTACHE.

you fear it followed you around more often than not, like a dark cloud that covered your entire existence in this bubble of heartbreak that nothing ever felt good to you, nothing was ever worth it. from your parents divorcing after years of suffering in a loveless marriage to every single relationship you’d ever been in never making past the first time you sleep together — you’ve genuinely felt about giving up on life, going so far as to consider a life as a celibate nun or maybe not, perhaps just the life of a girl who burns through multiple packs of AA batteries using her rose toy.

however, when you’d met levi, your first year of finally being allowed to leave the mclaren technology centre to shadow tom stalland during the 2023 f1 season. you genuinely thought this man had reshaped your entire perspective of love, he made love easy, made loving him feel less like a sport and more like a hobby you could never get sick of, being with hom felt like you’d been going through all the “firsts” all over again, like a cheesy romance movie monologue.

and yet, here you are, sat in your hotel room after the japan gp, suzuka has always been your favourite gp to watch and unfortunately for some reason, instead of standing in the mclaren garage doing your job, you’re sat clad in your team clothes (a stark contrast to the white bed linen) and sobbing over a text message paragraph explicitly telling you that levi has decided to break up with you after he fell in love with someone else during the summer break, someone who “rewired his brain chemistry in a ways you could never do.” you want to get angry, you wish you were an angry person, instead when you got angry you cried, when you got too happy or even just laughed too hard you cried, you were a crier.

your heart is heavy, as you scroll through the other woman’s posts, she’s gorgeous, and that’s where you begin your myriad of self deprecating comparisons of you to her. you doom scroll for what feels like forever until you spiral even further down the heartbreak rabbit hole, your attention drawn to the fact that levi had both unfollowed and removed you as a follower at some point between when he said goodnight and then broke up with you the next day. you watch as stories of their summer break spent together is shared and your jealousy sends you into a blind rage that you block the both of them; because ultimately you knew that he will hold her life he used to hold you — for levi was boring, a one trick pony you’re only just now coming to terms with.

your disheveled appearance and self imposed seclusion from the events of the day were not left unnoticed, you’d resigned yourself to just stand on the outskirts, occasionally moving to sit down and watch the screens as the friday practice begun, you’re uninterested, unmotivated and trying your dandiest to not cry, for the sole reason of simultaneously not wanting to draw unwanted attention to yourself and the fact that the mascara you’re bought at the duty free at the airport was most definitely not waterproof.

the good thing was that you’d be in japan for the rest of the weekend, the worse thing was you knew not s language lick of the language — sure you could probably call someone an idiot in japanese thanks to the sheer amount of one piece you’d watched eith levi during days he didn’t want to do anything you had planned or suggested; however, the single knowledge of know the word idiot in japanese will not get her very far. you’re almost too zoned out to notice the first free practice had finished, oscar’s team engineer tom standall dismisses you, tells you that whatever happened before you came to track is to be sorted out before it potentially jeopardises a race and without a word or argument against hai decision you shuffle out of the garage and into the paddock.

“name, hey wait — wait up” a voice you’ve only heard considerable muffled by a racing helmet and through large oversized noise cancelling team gear headphones when you got to play pretend engineer whenever it was during his practice laps and his qualifying laps, it sends a shiver up your spine, always has and you’re unknowing if it always will.

“oscar? hey! you did so good today, from what i say, p3 is so awesome how are you not more elated about that!” you’d found yourself smiling, wide across your face and sinking into the gentle rhythm of the conversation with oscar. the smile he returns is equally as wide as if his whole face were smiling, you want to punch him — the cuteness aggression playing devil on your shoulder.

“oh nah, i am actually it just hasn’t like kicked in gully yet, i’m waiting for the full body visceral reaction i’m about to have,” he pauses for a brief moment, hands itchy to fiddling with something snd find solitude in dragging one hand after the other through his tangled and sweaty hair. “like just, honestly, jesus christ and in japan of all places fuckin’ hell” he seems both simultaneously out of breath and ready to compete in a marathon.

had it not been a considerably formal setting you swore you can picture him jumping up and down on the spot whilst trying to contain all of his excitement, you allow him to be excited not wanting your own mood and misery to overshadow his complete and utter elation at his podium win. it’s the first time in the few days you’d been moping about that the smile you give off reaches your eyes and oscar’s always paying attention to these things, unbeknownst to you of course.

“your excitement is infectious, surely the team have planned something celebratory for you! you’ve gotta celebrate this i’m sure lando is!” you can’t help but practically beam, you’re mesmerised by the excitement the unashamed amount of happiness this boy is oozing and the bitter feeling in your stomach over it all is just barely going by unnoticed.

oscar shakes his head, overs a tiny shrugs and barely gets another word into the conversation you teo ate having before he’s whisked away by the team to be dragged off towards the podium, you watch as he shakes the bottle of champagne onto lando and max. any and all brief untouched moments of happiness are immediately replaced when your phones buzzes, a notification alert from your ring door bell and the video supplied of your now ex boyfriend grabbing whatever stuff he’d left at your apartment. the situation just breaks your heart even further than when with the whole of the mclaren team being called upon for s group shot with both the boys and their podium wins you ignore it and decided you’d had enough of it all.

the hotel’s quiet as you tap your keycard against the inside of your hand waiting for the elevator to come back down, the traffic from the track back to the designated hotel meant you’d wound up leaving just as all the other drivers had and whilst you weren’t in the mood to face anymore interactions you were lucky to bypass the small group of fans loitering in the hotel lobby. the elevator itself is slow, like most and the way your stomach drops at the incline is almost akin to how you felt when you’d first received that break up text at the start of the week.

if there was one thing you were thankful for, it was the fact the hotel had a bar just off the lobby, which is where you’d found yourself, skirt a little too short, shoes a little too high and too the perfect amount of booby that you won’t get in too much trouble but also attract someone willing to take away the ache in your chest for the night.

you’d been sat at the bar for just under an hour, occasionally chatting to some of the other patrons but mostly the bartender herself; the paper straw mushy and impossible to drink out of sits on a napkin as you sip on the glass uncaring or the lipstick mark on the rim or the smudging it does to your own lipstick — in fact you’re hoping something else smudges the lipstick further if the night doesn’t continue to progress as slowly as it is.

“can i get a beer, whatever you’ve got in the bottle and another one of what she’s drinking” there it is again, the chill on your spine and the heightened sense of the hand that brushes past your ear to give the bartender a bank card. every single nerve ending in your body is on fire when the stool beside you in moved and a body now begins to occupy it, perhaps you’re a bit drunk, you’d already had two of these and what if the different alcohol consumption laws you’re unsure how much alcohol is actually in the fruity little cocktail you’d ordered.

“oscar piastri, i thought i told you to go celebrate your podium with lando, why are you still at the hotel?” there is is, a tone you’d never thought you’d use with someone who wass essentially your bosses boss, which therefore makes him your boss, and yet here you are — sultry tone and lips loosened by the alcohol in your system, shamelessly flirting with him.

“well, you see, i’m more of a pub person than i am someone who prefers nightclubs and being touched and bumped into by random strangers, i fear that’s more of a lando thing than my own” oscar laughs, the way he’s relaxed and carefree shows signs he did however, get roped into pregaming with lando beforehand, the neck of the beer bottle sits between his index and middle fingers, a comfortable position one you're sure would feel weird if you so much as tried to mimic.

you fear you're done for when it comes to watching the way his throat bobs as he takes a swig of the larger, it's a japanese brand one you've never heard of nor tried and you can tell oscar hasn't by the way his nose scrunches at the taste, he still continues to drink it though. time seems to float by, growing continually more comfortable with one another to the point you'd sauntered away from the bar stools and are sat perhaps not even an inch apart in a booth in the corner.

"favourite race destination, so far?" "monaco. most definitely, melbournes a close second, but that's just because of a personal bias" "personal bias?" "yeah. . . you."

you'd never thought to combine the flavours of japanese beer and strawberry liqueur, and yet here you were, back-pressed and arched up against the wall beside a hotel room that not yours, the elevator ride was one stop too long to have it be that you'd gone back to your hotel room, hands, not your own, are roaming places never thought to be touched, the bluntness of their nails digging into the soft flesh of your thighs has your separating from the kiss to lean your head back and full indulge in the simple pleasures received in this moment. arousal builds when soft lips find the pulse point in your neck, your choice signature scent perfume the most aromatic in that area brings a subconscious reaction from oscar, the thigh between your legs juts up and you also convulse right then and there, your own hands ove from holding the back of his neck to drag through his soft, product-free hair, tugging on the last few strands that slip through your fingers.

the beep of the room door unlocking pulls you to your senses, and a hand tight around your waist drags you inside, you cling onto him in the worst way possible, you can see the smudges of lipstick on the corners of his mouth and god, does he look beautiful. you're unsure for a moment, even if the alcohol had loosened you up a little, you still didn't know how to react around oscar, he's looking at you in a way you can't describe, it makes your stomach flip and you're eager, thighs clenching to distribute the friction of your building arousal. you want his lips on yours again, there's zero space between you, you're simply sharing each other's breath.

his hand finds the back of your neck, tangled in your darkened locks and pulls you back in for a kis, is soft, he must moisturise your brain supplies before it fizzes out, the kiss is messy, all teeth, tongues and spit. you whimper into the kiss, knees buckling, your own hands are on a mission sliding under the hem of his shirt to perfectly feel the warmth that radiates off his skin against your cold hands, you can feel the exact moment your cold touch makes him hiss into the kiss and it finally ignites the fire in your stomach. this is what you want.

you two remain lip-locked until your chest hurts and you've traded the same breath back and forth that it's completely died, when you pull away, you finally take notice of the blown-out pupils staring down at you. his a look entirely of lust, desire, arousal and it shows, especially with the bulge in his pants. your bottom lip finds sanctuary in between your teeth when you raise an eyebrow and one of your hands slips out from under his shirt to palm him through the cargo shorts he'd donned to wear.

if oscar's voice sent a shiver down your spine, the way he groaned at your touch against his bulge chilled you from the inside out, the noise rough and gravelly like he'd not uttered a word in weeks, it's deep and low in his chest that you wouldn't have heard it if you weren't practically flush against him. your hand continues to palm him, making riskier moves as your other hand moves to dip your fingers into the waistband of his pants, you don't wait, you don't even need to ask for permission when his own hands are practically shucking off his own clothes for you.

he looks so gorgeous standing right in front of you, the wet patch you can only assume of precum on the front of his boxers has you licking your lips involuntarily, you try to ignore the voices, fight the urgers but you're but a simple girl, eager to please, that you're flicking your gaze up at him as your sink to your knees, the carpet is soft enough against you but you know better and are already seeing the red marks you'll have the next morning.

oscar looks confused for you in the briefest of moments, your nails dragging along his thighs, soft blonde hairs tickle your finger tips and you bite back the sweet giggle you want to let out as you're finally tugging his underwear down. a moment of shock halts your movement, eyes flicking up and down between oscar's gaze and his cock, tip pink, throbbing and leaking — it's a sight to be seen and you're the one who gets to gaze upon it.

your hand wraps around him, fingers barely meeting at the girth and you moan, can feel the saliva pooling in your mouth, your oral fixation working into overdrive, a single flick of your wrist has a louder groan rolling out of oscar's mouth, a quick "fuck" followed after it that as you once again clenching your thighs. your hand sets an easy rhythm, tried and true, one that allows for long strokes at a steady pace and your thumb to swipe between the slit on his tip that has his stomach clenching. his own hand grabs at your hair, both for something to hold onto and to keep it out of our face when you inch closer and allow your tongue to tease his tip with small kitten licks.

"fuck, fuck, name, fuck suck my cock"

the verbalised plea is all you need to finally wrap your lips around the swollen head, the saltiness of his precum mixing with your spit as you moan around him, your tongue swirls around his tip every time you pull back, only to resume bobbing your head and matching the movement of your hand to the pace you set as you take more of him in your mouth, your mouth feels so full and you can practically feel his dick pulse against your tongue when your other hand moves to squeeze his balls.

"holy shit — where did you learn that, fucking hell"

you smile when you pull away, uncaring of the drool that rolls down your chin, oscar seems not to mind either when he's pulling you back up to kiss him, your hand still stroking him slowly. he can taste his pre cum still on your tongue and as someone who'd assumed he wouldn't be fond of the idea, seems more or less enjoying it solely because it's coming from your mouth. his tongue overpowers your own and he's licking in your mouth with such severity that you can feel your own wetness pooling in your panties, had you been horny before you were now basically unbearably horny at this point.

your clothes feel bothersome, and your top and bra come off rather quick once your legs meet the edge of the bed you'd been pushed back against. the cool air of the hotel room meets your nipples and you gasp out once oscar's hot mouth chooses to settle on one and his hand favours the other. it's magic, that's what you can choose to blame it on, with the way oscar's fingers tug and twist one nipple all whilst his mouth and suck away on the other, your back arches up against him when his teeth graze the sensitive bud and you swear you could achieve your first orgasm of the night just from that alone.

his mouth switches to give the same treatment to the other nipple and yours that tug and pull on his hair only urge him on more, whining and desperate and what you want to happen is not happening. you need him, you crave him, you desire him.

"please oscar, fuck me"

there is it, the words oscar had been waiting to hear since you'd kissed him, and who would oscar be if not someone who listened when he was asked to do something. he sits up on his knees, jerks himself a couple of times as he watches you, skirt rugged up to your hips, a perfect picture, a sight for sore eyes, so beautiful, all for him to bare witness too. you back arches, your eager and needy and positively soaked you don't even need to touch yourself to know, your panties are finally pulled off and you hiss at the air that hits your center. you're clenching around nothing, sticky and sweet, eager, he looks up as your and you nods a final confirmation before you supply a weak "please" before his tip is aligning with your entrance and he's sliding in.

the stretch is everything to you, he is perfect, your hand stretching splayed out against the pillow as the tiniest whine falls from your lips, oscar grunts, face and chest flushed, you can hear exactly how we you are just from the squelch when he finally bottoms out and you moan loud enough that if anyone had been walking past the room they would have heard. oscar doesn't move, allowing for your pussy to stretch and get comfortable around him before you nod, rolling your hips to signal him to move and move he does.

"you're so tight, holy shit."

his hips rock back and forth into you, it's slow and sensual something you hadn't expected, your legs shift and wrap around his hips and your body rocks back against his thrusts willing him to move faster. unlike past partners, oscar seems to get the hint almost instantly as he pulls out and shifts slightly, hand holding onto your hips before he's sheathed himself back into you entirely in a singular thrust.

you moan out, toes curling and your legs wrapping around him so tight as if you'd practically become some sex-fueled boa constrictor. you swear his muscles are working overtime as his abdomen flexes with every deep thrust inside you, your body abuzz with electricity, the fire in your stomach scorching as a particular thrust has him hitting your g-spot and your back arching receptively.

in a world where you'd thought this was ever possible, all imaginations and scenarios have proven wrong already as oscar's thumb finds solace on drawing circles on your clit, causing your pussy to clench around him and a hiss to drag itself from his lips. to oscar you feel amazing and the flush on your face perfect evidence of his inability to be shy about telling you so and all you can do is ooh and ahh in return. something pulls in your stomach when he bottoms out in you again, your leg twitches and you're hyperaware that you'd just orgasmed around him, vocalising how it feels and your back arching however, his hips remain relentless only to come to a halt as he pulls out; your words are stopped as you're flipped over with a gentle tap against your thigh.

arms stretched out in front of you and your back arched, give oscar the perfect view to just take a moment to stare at your fluttering pussy, clenching around nothing as you suffer through a partially stunted orgasm. fingers drag through your folds and your body jerks at the sensitivity, the dip between them, pumping in and out similar to the rhythm he kept previous, his middle finger hooks and your face is thrown forward into the pillow as it hits the spongey feel of your g-spot, you gasp out hand white-knuckling the pillow as he focusses his fingers on that one particular spot

"fuck osc – fuck want you back inside me"

you don't bother with caring much about how whiney and desperate you'd begun to sound, throat dry from the gasping and the continuous noises he pulls from you, your tempting him, ass swaying as he chuckles, pulling his fingers out, he coo's at you as you whine to mourn the loss of the feeling, teases you as he slips the tip of his dick through your flushed red folds and bottom out with a quick hard thrust. you scream out, the pleasure perfectly combining with the sudden stretch to make the sweetest mixture of pain and pleasure you'd ever felt and to silence you, the fingers he'd just fucked you with had found the way into your mouth and if there was one thing you were, it was a good girl.

the sounds reverberating around the walls of the hotel room are borderline pornographic, the new pace oscar has set, deep and hard, skin slapping against skin as he practically bounces off you, his free holding your hip steady as your own knees buckle and you can feel the way his dick pulses inside you, the way his movements become sloppy yet still hitting your pleasure spot every time. the fingers in your mouth licked clean of your own arousal now replaced to be covered in your own drool. oscar grunts, his hips snapping against you in a final thurst as he slumps forward to press the most delicate of kisses to the nape of your neck as he feels you up and you cum around him for a second time.

it's messy, whatever hadn't spilt inside you now jerked off onto your back as your knees give out and you slump against the bed. worn out and woozy you're hardly paying attention to oscar cleaning up, the warm washcloth drags along your hot, sticky and sweaty skin in a way that twists your brain and brings out the regret that seeps into your stomach, had your legs not been feeling like they weren't attached to your body you would have scrambled to get dressed and done the walk of shame back to your own hotel room; however, you stay, regretfully.

you don't cuddle, oscar tries not to act hurt about it as you roll over and away from him when he finally climbs in himself. to you this didn't matter, you fucked him, like nothing matters. come the morning you'll be gone before he wakes. because this didn't mean a thing. to you as least.

yourusername just posted . . . ♫ nothing matters . the last dinner party

liked by lando.jpg, yourbestfrienduser, lolatung and 11,219 others yourusername and i will fuck you, like nothing matters. load more comments

oscarpiastri oh.

authors note: please excuse my smut skills, i'm rusty a lil ngl. i love a bittersweet ambiguous ending. if this gets enough recognition and asks, i'll definitely more than likely make a part two or even multiple parts. reminder, if you weren't tagged it means i couldn't find your account.

add yourself to the taglist here !

taglist: @iluminaya @therealcap @marshmummy @@im-an-overthinker @a1leexxa @chasing-liberosis @marauderssworld @nesssywrites @valntynebaby @larastark3107 @justtprachisblog

#𐙚 paige’s works #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri fic #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri smau #oscar piastri smut #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 imagines #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one imagines

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twirlingsmilingwriting · 4 months

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Tolerate it || Young!Coriolanus Snow X Reader

"I sit and watch you reading with your... head low"

Truly feeling like the luckiest person alive when your former classmate and short term boyfriend asked you to marry him. Not even a year into the marriage and also a year into his presidency does the original love and admiration you felt from him start to dissipate. You can't help but feel trapped and tricked into a marriage in which he may have never loved you to begin with. Warnings: Angst, Love-Bombing, marriage, gender ambiguous reader, typical snow tags (manipulation), social isolation, alluding to sexual acts but not described, kissing Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: I was listening to Evermore after watching tbosas and Tolerate It was just SCREAMING Snow vibes. I was fidgeting with the gold charm of my pearl necklace while anxiously looking over at my husband whose nose was too deep into a book to seem to care about me. I dropped my gaze from him to scan across the table and room. Our large dining room was red with gold accent pieces I had spent the morning dusting decorating the walls. We both sat at opposite ends of the long table, ever too long to just seat two people but it seemed the man couldn't do anything at home if he was within five feet of me. A bouquet of roses I placed in a ceramic vase sat between us on the table. He loved roses, he always did, so I placed them there to brighten his day and maybe even spark up conversation between us. I polished the plates we ate on delicately and even spent the afternoon painting designs onto the back of them. I had done all this in hopes I'd receive some sort of compliment from him but alas, there was none. I sat back and reminisced on the days of our love before it was like this. Truly, when I had first married Coriolanus I had felt like my life had started a new chapter. We dated in the spring and summer time of the year after we graduated from the academy. He was top of the class and while I never matched him in intelligence he had seemingly randomly taken a liking to me. We were acquaintances at most before that and then he started talking to me any chance he could get. I would gush to my friends about his charming smile and posture and they would warn me of the rumors that went around about him. They would tell me to never get to close to him as all those who got did would end up disgraced, missing, or dead. In some masochistic way, I truly felt enthralled by his magnetic aura, danger, and the mystery that surrounded him. His bright red coat was as red as the flags that man was but the danger of it all excited me. He wasn't the nicest man out there but when he was nice to me, I felt unique. I was the exception to his coldness.

We'd go out on dates and he would shower me with sweet nothings. He would tell me how I was the light that lit up the darkness of his life. He said my beauty could turn a man to stone. I will never forget the way he kissed me on the busiest street in the capital under the dancing streetlights and how I felt like time had stopped in that moment. The way he stroked the side of my face so delicately and told me I was the only one who had ever made him feel so alive. I was holding onto every breath that man had exhaled hoping he'd inhale me further into his life. We'd spend days together and call at night. I didn't notice it at the time but in retrospect it was tactical. I spent every moment of my waking days with him and soon my life started to be built around him. Every phone call from a friend I received that spoke about him in any negative way made me push them away and out of my life even further. He was the only one I talked to. He is my world. We were two seeds that had gotten dropped into the same pot and were growing into each other.

In the fall, I fell for him harder than I ever had before. It came to a height when we were walking through a park and watched as the changing leaves fell from the trees. He held my hand in his and he held me so tight as if he was afraid I'd float away and leave him. I would never of course, my life would bend to his will. My head rested against his arm like the red coat he always wore. He'd recount to me stories of his life that would make me laugh and smile. His strikingly blonde hair blew in the wind softly and I noticed every detail of how his icy blue eyes would crinkle when he'd smile at me. He was like a beautiful painting whose artist was unknown. I remember thinking that all I would ever want to be in this life is as significant to him as he is to me. I remember the earth shattering halt my heart felt when he turned to me and dropped down to one knee and proposed. A smirk plastered his face when I said yes. He stood back up and pulled me in by the waist. One hand on my chin and the other on my lower back. The feeling of his warm, soft lips on mine and the feeling of his hair tangled between my fingers. I remember the ecstasy of the moment and the feeling that my friends were wrong, the world was wrong, no one knew Coriolanus like I knew him. He wasn't a cold, calculated, and constantly plotting man, he was just misunderstood. When he pulled away from the kiss, he whispered in my ear that he would live a thousand life times if it meant he got to love me in the next. I remembered everything.

That was the first night we spent together. He snuck me into his house and we giggled in his bedroom when he shut the door. We told each other secrets and moved the furniture so we could dance. My head was placed onto his chest and we swayed to the sound of the music playing from his grandmothers record player. We shared moments of passion in his bed, fell asleep in each others arms, and woke up tangled in bed sheets. I remember thinking he was truly mine.

We married shortly after in the beginning of December. The ceremony was lavish and beautiful. I remember the way his fingers tucked my hair behind my ear. A single tear fell from his eyes and he leaned in and kissed me. He must've been so taken aback from my beauty as I was with his. Only one of my friends attended the wedding but I was too happy that I was marrying the man of my dreams to care. The first weeks of our married life were wondrous. He had risen to power and we had moved into the absolute gargantuan mansion we live in today. He couldn't seem to keep his hands off me and I was the diamond of his eyes. He loved to show me off for the cameras and crowds. Then one day, winter came and roses don't survive.

It started off small. He didn't want to talk or cuddle in bed at night anymore. I assumed he was just tired from working so hard. Then he stopped complimenting my outfits or hair, trading them with passive aggressive comments and ways I could improve myself for him. He no longer wanted to talk at dinner. We stopped speaking at some point. He wouldn't want to hear my voice unless it was to service him. In public, he still was my adoring husband but in private, I felt like I was living with a stranger. At night, I can hear him whispering sweet nothings to the air and humming melodies and I can only hope he's dreaming about me.

These days, I haven't been sleeping, I've been trying to listen in and see if I can make out the words he is saying in his sleep but I haven't been able to make out any other words than lines about trees. While he is having his meetings all day, I am constantly doing new diets, trying new makeup, new hair, decorating the house differently, leaving loving notes on his desk, anything to try and earn a compliment from him. Even if a compliment is too much, I am begging for a word from that man. I love him. I still love him. I don't believe it is possible for me to stop loving him. I can't dare to think of loving any one else. He is so much wiser, and smarter, and more beautiful than I am and I find myself becoming the moon to his earth. I spin around him, pulled in by his orbit except, I'm not his moon. I'm just a star in his sky that is begging to be his sun. I just want a footnote in the story of his life. Even an annotation on a page of his story will be enough for me.

The sound of him placing his heavy book onto the table pulled me out of my trance and my eyes met his blue ones once more. Instantly, I am struck frozen. His eyes had such a way of pulling you in. I looked down at his lips as they pressed a small smirk and his eyes squinted a little while he picked up his fork from the table and looked at me. He examined my appearance and I sat up straighter. The thick tension in the air put me on edge. Finally, his lips parted and he spoke.

"Is that a new hair color?" he asked, keeping his eyes laser focused on me.

"It is... d- do you like it?" He looked me over again and leaned back in his chair contemplating what to say next. Then, shortly, sweetly, and sharply, he muttered the word,

"Tolerable"

PART TWO PART THREE

#coriolanus snow #fanfic #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #tbosas #angst #fanfiction #tom blyth #the hunger games #tom blyth x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #tom blyth fanfiction #tom blyth imagine #president snow #young president snow #tom blyth x you #tbosas imagine

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jeonghantis · 1 year

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✧ — IN ALL HIS GLORY.

PAIRING ⇝ kim mingyu x reader.

SUMMARY ⇝

waking up next to your lover, you can't help but admire his unearthly beauty and consider yourself unbelievably lucky that he's all yours.

TAGS ⇝ established relationship, romance, suggestive, Fluff (yes, capital F Fluff), domestic-ish.

WARNINGS ⇝ language, gn!reader, fluff (lol), nudity, makeout scene, alludes to sexual content (MINORS DNI!).

WORD COUNT ⇝ 1.2k words and some.

note: yeah, this was a draft i had originally scratched for mingyu's birthday because i was unsure of its direction, but the innisfree behind got me scrambling the pieces back together. this was meant to appreciate mingyu and his beauty and i hope i did him justice.. (and if you can't tell when you finish reading, i am still mourning the loss of his long curly hair). anyway, i hope you enjoy reading <3 p.s. this is 1 out of 2 fics i have to celebrate mingyu month. stay tuned. <3 p.p.s this so not proofread i am so sorry

reblog if you are terribly in love with kim mingyu too (and to support me).

explicit warnings under cut.

EXPLICIT WARNINGS ⇝ nudity, implications of top!mingyu, implications of bottom!reader, mingyu was Rough, mentions of oral (reader receiving).

The first glint of sun spilled through windows, swathing your lover’s slumbering figure in its golden light. His lips were parted, a hand rested atop his chest that rose and fell with easy breaths. His hair that he grew out was a dark halo from where it splayed over the pillow, so vividly stark against the paleness of it. But unlike its sable tone, Kim Mingyu still had his radiance, even in his sleep, that could set light to the darkest dark.

From where you lay beside him, you reached out, gingerly brushing away the lone curl that had tumbled over his still face. Sleep had long left your body, waking dazed with ease and warmth. The outcome of the passion that had stretched all throughout the night clung onto your bones heavily, straining you from making any big movements. But you did not mind. Though you ache all over, you could lay perfectly still without complaint if it meant not interrupting this peace.

But Mingyu woke up, blinking life back into his eyes. Then, he found you.

“Good morning, my love,” he mumbled, lips curled into a drowsy smile.

You mirror him, a hand cradling the side of his face. “Good morning, my heart.”

Then you’re reaching for each other, lips naturally finding one another.

It’s innocent at first, a tad bit clumsy with movements still sluggish, his from slumber and yours exhaustion. Airy giggles pass between you two at the lumbering bumps of noses and teeth, but eventually, a steady rhythm comes with practiced ease, a slow pace of melding lips that’s nothing short of passion. Nothing really ever is when it comes to being with the love of your life.

It’s Mingyu who grasps for more first, a palm resting atop the small of your back to draw you even closer, your body pressed flush against his. It’s only then do you remember how you both did not bother with clothes after last night’s events. And he seems to have just remembered in the moment too because he’s now groaning into your mouth, his face slanting to deepen the amorous exchange in search of more of you. You’re very quick on the uptake, the fervency of the kiss heightening, as you pour all of yourself into him and he drinks it up with an unquenchable thirst, every slip of breath, every movement of lip. You tug on the soft pink flesh of his bottom lip for him to part open. When he did, your tongue slinked in, licking into the wet cavern of his mouth with languid strokes. Mingyu is all too ready for it, welcoming your voyage with another moan and a wet caress of his own tongue over yours, as his palm smooths over the underside of your thigh, hoisting it up to lift it over his waist.

The blankets twist around your tangled limbs. Mingyu shucked it off. The cold air sends a shock through you and instinctively, you’re seeking the warmth of your lover with a tug on his shoulder. Mingyu gives in easily and shifts his body around until the upper half of him rests on top of you, pushing himself impossibly closer.

The added weight of him was not something you had considered in your daze and you’re sparing yourself some breath as you ease back with a gasp. But the man is just as lost in his daze and chases after your retreating mouth. Mingyu managed to swallow down a couple of your breaths with fervid lips until you had to stop him with a hand pressed firmly against his shoulder.

“Stop, wait - ” you exhale with a staggered laugh, gently urging your lover back. “You’re heavy, Gyu. I need to breathe.”

“Yeah, and I need you,” he whines petulantly like a child, though he is pulling back anyway until he’s back laying on his side. “Which, arguably, is more important.”

“Can’t exactly have me if I stop breathing,” you counter with a playful roll of your eyes. “I’m already exhausted from last night trying to keep up with your insane stamina.”

A prideful look crosses his face. “I did go pretty hard on you.”

You smother the urge to smile as you give laudatory pats on his chest. “You did and I do love you for it, but now my entire body hurts.”

“Want me to help make you feel better?”

“Please.”

Mingyu grins. “I have to fuck you again though.”

“Thought so,” you snorted and slapped his chest, but you were smiling.

“Or I make you breakfast,” Mingyu laughs and reaches to hold your hand, interlacing your fingers with his. “Then I could give you a massage. How’s that?”

“Heavenly,” you hum.

Mingyu props himself up on one arm, staring down at you with glittering eyes. “Then give me a kiss before I go?”

You laugh softly and cast your gaze up at him, a hand already reaching to pull him down by his nape.

But you still.

Kim Mingyu was beautiful. This was a fact you knew. A fact that you should be accustomed to. But no matter just how much you set your eyes upon his perfectly sculpted features, your breath catches in your throat every time.

Mingyu was outlined against the risen sun; his radiance coming to full glory as the light kissed his bronzed skin to gold. Each dip and curve of his toned body, each sharp and soft line of his handsome face appeared meticulously carved onto skin, like marks of a sculptor’s tenacity. Even the moles adorning his face—one flecked on the tip of his nose and the other on his cheek—looked thoughtfully placed, somehow adding their own strange allure to his already captivating charm.

The mole on his cheek twitches when a smile pulls at the corners of his lips.

“What is it?” Mingyu whispered, his dark eyes peering. “What are you staring at?”

You had not known you were staring for so long, but who could blame you when he looked the way he did? When you love him the way you do?

“I was just thinking about how beautiful you are,” you answered honestly, brushing back the raven strands that had fallen over his eyes. “And about how I am absolutely in love with you.”

“Suddenly?”

“I’ve always thought so,” you smiled.

Mingyu regards you for a silent beat, the faintest blush dusting his cheeks. Then he’s dipping down and capturing your mouth with his in another heady kiss.

“Fuck breakfast and a massage,” he grunts against you. “I am going to fuck you.”

“Gyu,” you start to groan, which should have been a warning but it comes out half-hearted and laced with desire instead.

“Or I can use my tongue on you instead,” he offers as his mouth already strays away, mapping down kisses down the column of your throat. “Please?”

“Just because of what I said?” You try for a laugh and it comes a bit breathy.

“All because of what you said,” Mingyu says and draws back. He’s peering at you with those big, sparkling eyes again. “Because you’re beautiful and I’m absolutely in love with you too.”

“Charmer,” you huff, a smile itching your lips. “You’re still making breakfast and giving me a massage right after though.”

Mingyu smiled as blinding as the first glint of sunlight. "Deal."

#seventeen smut #svt smut #mingyu smut #mingyu fanfic #svt fanfic #kim mingyu smut #seventeen fanfic

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wysteria-clad · 2 years

Text

Cucumber face mask and Fist of Vengeance.

warnings: fluffy Jake ya'll. I died from his cuteness when writing this.

a/n: Jake Lockley is a total simp for you madly in love with you

as always, thanks to my homegirl @imgoingtofreakoutnow for helping me with Spanish parts <3

gif credit @mandobi-wan

How soft would Jake Lockley's heart go for you?

One would think he was lethal and scary. And he was, but with you, it was the exact opposite. If someone told him he would be madly in love, he would have fixed them a glare or a mocking grin. Boy, was he wrong.

He was absolutely smitten with you. It was the reason he let you sit comfortably on his lap. His left hand was loosely draped around your waist, just in case if you slipped back. Plus, he loved holding you in that position, sitting on his lap, facing him.

You squeezed the sides of his face with your index and thumb fingers, making his lips pucker into a cute pout. "You are so cute", you said, kissing his pouty lips with a loud 'mwah'

"You are staring" he stated, as a matter of fact, with a smug smile on his face.

"What? am I not allowed to look at my baby?"

Jake Lockley was many things, but cute?. Oh well, if you said he is cute, then he is cute. If you called him baby, then damn right he is your baby. No questions or protests by him.

"lo que tú digas, mi amor" he accepted it with a tiny smile on his lips.

He did not live his life through rose tinted glasses. Everywhere he saw, it was all dark corners, dark souls, with promises of threats and evil lurking—until you came into the picture.

You traced his face with your fingers delicately, his eyebrows, temples, cheek bones, the soft skin below his eyes, his nose. You brought your face closer to his, placing a feather light kiss on the little scar on his nose bridge.

His eyes closed for a moment. He was aware of his good looks and how many eyed him with lustful gazes everyday. But love? The magical word with the capital 'L', he never dreamt of such thing, but now? Oh my God, his heart would burst into fluttering butterflies.

You loved him and adored him— each touch so gentle, you could not hurt him even on accident. Your love was like warm sun on chilly days.

Now, you were not completely 'pure like an angel', no one was. But to Jake 'I love and adore my girlfriend with all my heart' Lockley, you were the best thing ever happened to him. All his life, he thought his purpose was to protect Marc and Steven and keep them safe. It changed when he you came into their lives, well it did not change completely, more like he had another person to protect. His sweet princesa.

"You alright there, baby?" you paused, your finger tip resting above a scar on his left eyebrow.

Here you were, making sure he was comfortable and alright, even now.

You loved the parts of him that needed the most love.

Your love was careful. Your love was soft, yet fierce and passionate.

Oh how nice it felt to be adored, to be cared for, spoken to in softer and caressing tones, to be held gently by your hands.

He opened his eyes. His usually sharp eyes was round with softness. If he kept looking into your face full of nothing but love for him, he would cry tears of happiness, he thought.

To answer your question, he brought your finger tips to his mouth, kissing them. Then he kissed your palm and the sensitive spot under your wrist, making you giggle. "I'm alright, princesa". His voice was bit gruff, but his heart wasn't. And you knew that. With a hint of smile, you kissed that above that scar on his eyebrow, ever so lightly.

He could kill someone with a hard look on his face, but the moment his eyes laid on you, his expression would soften.

You caressed the tip of his nose with yours. "You know what we can do now?" you pecked his lips quickly and pulled back, "we can do face masks"

"A what?" his eye brows was furrowed.

You sprung off his lap, making your way to the bathroom cabinet. His eyes followed you, he could hear you rummage through it.

He would sit with a cucumber face mask on his face with you on a wednesday night.

That's how soft Jake Lockley's heart would go for you.

Only you.

His love.

His woman.

"What the odd little mortal have done to you?!" Khonshu's voice boomed in Jake's ears. He was shocked to see Jake sitting camly next to you with a...what is that thing on his face? what have you done to my fist of Vengeance?!

Jake stared into a space behind you, mumbling something and shaking his head.

"What does your bird friend say now?" you asked your man, with a light amusement dancing in your eyes.

"Nothing, mi amor. Don't worry" his hand wrapped around your waist.

"I can put this mask on his face too if he like-"

Before you could even finish the last word, the God of the moon fled in fear. In fear of an odd little mortal; an odd little mortal that had his Fist of Vengeance wrapped around her finger.

#jake lockley x reader #jake lockley imagine #jake lockley fluff #moon knight x reader #moon knight imagine #moon knight #jake lockley #wystie-verse

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tarjapearce · 10 months

Text

Bad Teachings (Pt. 4)

WARNINGS: Nerd talk, Miguel into Work Mode, Relationship Building, Slow Burn, mild fluff, awkward meetings, british slang, mutual help.

Summary: A little peek into Miguel's daily life. Returning favors, rocky starts.

Pt. 5

Hope you like <3

Pairings: Miguel x Fem!Reader

The alarm beeped, and you rose from bed. You'd usually sleep in late and just chill the evening away if you had the free time for it, if not, you'd work ahead to declutter your to-do list. Something that adult life had taught you was to make the most out of your time and keep a balance between resting and work life.

You washed your teeth and showered, adding a mental note to buy more shampoo and conditioner later. Fifteen minutes after you came out, and did a brief skin care routine to finally get ready. You changed into some baby blue high waisted jeans, a white tank top and cardigan along some white espadrilles. You packed in some work tools such as your laptop, an usb docking station and your usb's.

Need you at 9-

Miguel had texted you around 10 pm, and now you were on your way to his home.

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

You knocked on the door and held the two cup holders tightly as your working bag hung on your shoulder. The heavy yet familiar steps approached and soon, the door was open, revealing a sleepy looking Miguel, black sweatpants and robe on. A smear of toothpaste foam on his chin. Baggy eyes are a bit more prominent.

"Coffee?" you smiled sympathetically as he let you in. You then offered a napkin

"Clean your chin." He did with a grunt and took a sip of the coffee.

"Didn't know how you liked it, so I just got it plain with two pieces of sugar."

"It's good, thanks." He mumbled and rubbed his face, tiredly.

Now that your hormones were under control, you actually paid attention to your surroundings, the floor was covered in marble-like textured tiles, and the walls were painted in a soft cream. The overall layout displayed before you.

You were standing in a soft rug, to remove all dirt from outside, to your right there was a small hall and a door at the bottom, the broom peeking out made you guess that it was the cleaning supplies storage, if you walked straight, you'd find the dining table and behind it, the kitchen, a small breakfast island separating the spaces.

Oddly enough the chairs underneath looked as if they hadn't been used in a while, they looked almost brand new except for one that had child-like doodles on it, in different colors. If you walked to the right of the dining table, you'd find the living room.

An L shaped couch along a dark wooden coffee table, a tv set with some shelves full of books and few portraits on each side of it. There was a wall dividing the livingroom and the bedrooms, as another one limited the kitchen, creating another hall between.

The windows in the dining room and his bedroom were made out of thick glass, letting enough natural light to illuminate the spaces. However they were both covered by curtains. Miguel rubbed his eyes as he guided you to your work station. meaning, the dining room. Paper files spreaded all over the glass table.

"You'll work with these. Easy task. Each file is labeled with a letter, the main information is tagged in capital letters, the sub files, or the one related to the main file, are tagged in lowercase letters and a number, it dictates the page." He pointed to the bottom corner of the pages

"But, the lazy ass people I work with just gave me this bundle of papers." He sighed and put on his lenses once more.

"Once you are done organizing, hand them over to me. I need to revise which ones are outdated."

"Wait, so you're working with obsolete information?"

"No, with projects that should have been revised a week ago but were never revised due them being incomplete. Tal Vez una junta y un memo hacen que estos pendejos trabajen bien." He grumbled the last part more to himself than anyone else.

You didn't want to add to his stress, so you picked up the loose paper sheets in the file. He gulped the last remains of caffeine in his cup as you sipped yours.

"Excuse me." You put your work bag on a chair and soon began to follow instructions.

"If you're stuck in something, tell me. I'll be in the living room. " Your paper cup was taken from your hands and he sipped it, then walked back to the living room with a tiny smirk. You were about to protest, but seeing coffee had gotten him a bit more alive, your lips remained shut.

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

The only sounds in the room were either you flipping and organizing pages or him typing away on the keyboard. A bird chirping somewhere occasionally, or some faint music from a neighbor. You had glanced his way a couple of times, only to find him buried in his work, his figure was something impossible to miss. His lower lip jutted as his brow furrowed as he looked at the screen.

You on the other hand had organized one complete file, it was a short one. And from what you could read, it was about recreating a Japanese pink strawberry in some labs to see if it was feasible enough to start commercializing them. Miguel had done the whole research by himself.

"Y'know? I apologize for giving your intelligence little credit."

He looked at you with a quirked eyebrow

"Did you just call me stupid?"

"W-What? No! No. I didn't mean it like that. Like, I knew you were smart, but, this is a whole new level of smart."

He just chuckled and continued his work.

"Seems you're easy to impress."

"No, it means I just need to increase my standards. And I don't even ask for much really."

He stretched and yawned before taking some papers.

"And what are those?"

You stared at him, a bit taken aback that he would actually ask such trivialities.

"Well... I like a man that knows what he wants. Honest, loyal, not a clown but neither a stuck up guy, someone smart that can teach me stuff, in the same way that is willing to learn about new experiences. Sure of himself, someone I can trust and vice versa, good at communication and someone that has gotten over his ex. Or at least do not repeat patterns that they used to do with their ex."

He huffed at the last bit in mirth.

"Good luck with the last one."

"Yeah, That's why I don't head first into it. And the one that kind of met those requirements had to leave to another country" you shrugged and started on the second file.

"But yeah, anyway. I'm impressed that you alone lead these sorts of investigations. Not a good team player?" you smirked and he shook his head.

"Not really. "

"Oh... Well, sometimes it is more about the people you work with than the job itself, I guess."

He stared at you, eyes full of quiet wonder, but the beeping of his phone interrupted his train of thoughts.

"Hold on, gotta pick up"

You nodded and continued your work. He disappeared into his bedroom.

The second file was about rectifying the propension of field corn in getting infected by fungus. And the third one was about creating a substance or reactive that could reveal any anomalies in pregnant animals raised in captivity to preserve the species. The more you read about said files the more your admiration grew. And so the need to make things right.

"Feeling hungry?" He spoke from the hall, the clock had ticked 12 midday. You both were so engrossed in your respective works that you forgot about time.

"Uh, a little."

You kept organizing files and separating the projects, reading and learning about them on the go.

"What do you wanna eat?"

"You're ordering or cooking?"

"Ordering."

"Uh, a poke bowl sounds nice."

"A what?" He scrunched his nose and you giggled.

"It's a hawaiian dish made out of raw marinated fish and veggies or rice. Quite nutritious and delicious."

"Sounds nice, except for the raw fish."

"Haha, don't worry, there is a place that sells them with other cooked protein. I highly recommend the salmon glazed one. My treat"

"No. You got me coffee in the morning. We're even."

"Alright. Lemme get you the place´s number."

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

"So... how do you eat this?" You grabbed the chopsticks and grabbed a piece of glazed salmon.

"Just like that. Give it a try. " you smiled as your hand passed his packed chopsticks. He stared at them for a second and sighed.

"Please?

"If you just wanna laugh at me, say it"

You couldn't help but chuckle and shake your head.

"Pfft. It took me a while to get used to them too. But yeah, this will be funny."

"Sólo porque me lo pides de por favor..."

You always gave him a confused look whenever he spoke in what you could guess whas his mother language. He ripped the small package open and separated the sticks.

"Now, put the lower stick between your thumb and index finger, like tha- , No, no. Yes! Like that! And the other one must be held by the thumb and the middle finger"

There were two main emotions going through his face, frustration and determination. It turned into complete frustration when the small piece of protein fell off his chopsticks.

"It's fine if you don't get it at the first one. Takes a bit of practice." You handed him a plastic fork and smiled, he took it with a light scowl as you kept eating with the chopsticks.

"Besides, once you master them you can eat anything with it. Even snacks so your fingers don't get all... sticky."

"I'm staying with forks and knives, thanks."

You both couldn't help but chuckle.

"What has been the most difficult project to you, so far?"

"The ADA reactive in animals."

"Anomaly Detector Algorithm, right?" The corner of his lips curved slightly upwards at your response.

"Glad to see you're doing your homework, guapa."

"Your work is interesting. By the way, the Corn Field Fungus one is incomplete. Couldn't find the other pages"

He shrugged and finished eating.

"Not my fault. They are not doing their job properly, so of course it was incomplete."

"Sounds... stressing. Your job I mean."

"It is when incompetent people are in charge of things they shouldn't be. But when people know what they are doing, it's different."

"So, basically your job is modifying DNA from things to make things better or create alternative solutions if things don't get better?"

"Simple as that" He nodded, "We gotta check those files before creating the digital copy"

He stood and you quickly finished up your meal, smearing some sauce on your chin, you were about to retrieve the empty plastic bowl to put it in the trash when he cupped your face with a single hand and pulled it gently towards him. He used a napkin to clean the smear and nodded.

"That's better. Get to work" He went back to his work spot and so did you, after cleaning the table. Cheeks flushing.

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

"I'll send you the first transcribed file, so you can check it out as I'm finishing the third one."

"Sure."

He stretched once more to then give the last sip from another mug of coffee. The man lived on caffeine, or he was beyond exhausted and coffee kept him up. You had your work tools out. The noises of your typing mixed with his, almost as fast as he was.

"Want more coffee?" You offered as his eyes drooped.

"Not really. Can't surpass my fifth one."

"Then you should rest your eyes a bit. Take a break of five."

"We're almost done."

"That's precisely why you need five minutes off. Is the light bothering you?"

"A little"

He rubbed his eyes as he pinched his nose bridge. Gruff voice coming as a rough whisper as you turned the unnecessary lights off, leaving the living room's on only. Then you soaked a clean handkerchief with cold water and returned to his side.

"Here." you offered the cold and wet piece of cloth with a small smile. "Close your eyes and put it on."

He didn't seem convinced that it would do anything, but your willingness to alleviate his distress made him take the cloth and put it on his eyes. He exhaled at the coolness the item provided.

You sat next to him and continued your job, as quietly as you possibly could. Even after the five minutes passed, you didn't move him. He was exhausted. The living room was lit enough to give you a small glimpse of what the shelves had.

Books on Genetics, probably from college, maths, engineering, some spanish titles you quite didn't understand. What threw you off guard was some children's book and stories in one space of the shelf.

Titles like "El Principito", "Cuentos Por Teléfono" "A Bear Called Paddington '' among others with colorful pictures of dinosaurs, soccer balls and some tattered coloring books.

Your eyes squinted as they settled for a portrait, It was a little girl, Black hair as Miguel's combed in a high ponytail as a red headband adorned her front section of the head, keeping the smaller and wild hairs under control. Her smile was cheerful as she held a golden trophy with a soccer player motif on top.

The words "Mi Sol" written in the left corner. The only picture of her in the portraits Miguel jerked awake and your eyes were casted back to the screen.

"Feel better?" He just nodded and exhaled.

"Here's the other two files" You mumbled and passed the usb to him, his large hand covering yours for a second. You waited as his eyes dragged across his screen.

Eyes going from squinting, frowning to widen gently. He gave you a rusty smile.

"Good job."

"Thanks. Glad to help." your smile was genuine, almost smug. You exhaled, relieved. Clock ticking 7 pm.

"Is there anything else you need help with?"

" All done.Thanks."

"Alright, I shall get going then. It's getting late"

"Then, Stay." You looked at him with a pout.

"As much as I'd like to, you are exhausted, slept on the couch for more than five minutes, you need sleep."

It was his turn to give you a smug smile and you rolled your eyes.

"And stop drinking that much caffeine. You'll get a heart attack."

"A myth, by the way. Five cups is fine"

"If you say so"

Smiling, you put your tools back in your work bag and went for the door, he followed you.

"Thanks for the help"

"Anytime." You nodded.

He just stood on the doorframe, watching you as your nerves rioted inside you, was he expecting a hug? a kiss goodbye? You didn't know.

"Uh, Bye then. Don't forget to sleep" You ended up waving, unsure of giving a more intimate farewell. He seemed amused at your choice.

"Pasa linda noche, muñeca" You heard him mutter before the elevator's door closed.

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

Your elevator's door slid open, revealing the ever long hallway, work bag slinging on your left shoulder as your keys tinkered upon grabbing them. You tried to open the door but to your little surprise the door wouldn't budge. You groaned in annoyance as you pushed, to no avail. All happiness from a good deed done, drained away.

"Fuck." You heaved as you tried once more and failed. Taking your phone out, you recorded a small video for evidence, to send it to the landlord.

No matter how much you pushed the door, or turned the key, the door was stuck. You couldn't help but kick it, but regretted it instantly. Shoes too soft against a sturdy metal door.

"Fuck!" you whined, both in pain and exasperated.

"Seems ya could use some help"

British deep voice from behind you

"Be my guest. This thing wouldn't budge."

"Been having troubles with it too?"

"I already sent the evidence to Mr. Cufton. Hopefully he will fix the damn thing for real this time."

"I'm sure the bloke will be buzzin' when he sees it"

Hobbie stepped closer and took the keys. He turned them around a couple of times and pushed against the door with all his might.

"Goddamn..." Your eyes widened as he opened the door for you, he seemed unfazed, almost used to it.

"Thanks, Hobie."

"No problem." He stepped out of your apartment with his hands stuck in the pockets of his jacket.

"Have a good night." He nodded your way with a lax smile, you closed the door and opened it a couple of times to make sure it would work in the morning.

You prepared the food for the week, your clothes and a small presentation that was sent to you to be corrected last minute.

And soon went to sleep.

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

You were having a bad day as it is, the door was jammed again and made you get one hour late since Mr. Cufton barely replied your way, and had another neighbor help you out. Traffic was insane, and when you got to your office, ready to start your day, the usb storage box wasn't in your tote bag.

Panic surged through you as your hands frantically searched for the small plastic box. You not only had a couple of months worth of work in them, but also some other coworker projects that would be presented in a couple of days.

It didn't help that the newest client was bitching about the little flow of movement her new beauty products' line was receiving. The responsibility falls directly on your both superiors and you.

Then, your superiors reprimanding you for not having the usb on hand to show the manager the newest projects to be soon developed in the firm and Mr. Cufton announced the door wouldn't be replaced until next week. As soon as 5 pm ticked in, you bolted out the place.

You couldn't help but cry out of frustration, however a ding on your phone prevented you from weeping in the parking lot.

I believe this is yours?-

He had sent the image of the usb box you had looked up. In all your haste, you had barely thought of it staying behind at Miguel's.

Forgot to mention this in the morning-.

Of course he would. He was super busy. You couldn't help but actually cry, relieved that at least one of your problems, one of the biggest problems was solved.

-You literally just saved my ass from being fired... Thank you so much. I'll pick it up at your place. Is that ok?

Give me your location, I'm not home yet.-

Stuck in traffic.-

-Neither do I, but I'll be there in 15 minutes.

You shared your home location, and drove home. Traffic only held you back for five minutes. You parked the car in the usual numbered spot assigned with your apartment number. Then took the elevator, work tote bag in hand, face still red from your previous crying, and finally you managed to get home and let Miguel know you were already there and your apartment number.

You knew you had to open the door to at least put your things away, and make yourself look less beaten up by life. Sadly there was no Hobie or the other friendly neighbor to help you out. The only times you saw Hobie was around seven or eight pm, and there was no sign of the other guy. You prepared mentally to struggle against an inanimate object.

First time was worthless, the second time was even worse. You had only slammed your body against it, earning another pain in your tender shoulder's muscles. Just when you were going to try a third time, Miguel called you from the hallway. You were on the verge of tears again, your face flushed like a tomato.

"You ok?"

You shook your head as you tried your best to keep the tears inside.

"Shitty day but, you saved my ass, again."

"What's wrong with the door?"

"It's stuck and the landlord will replace it until next week. Got an hour late at job because I got trapped inside" your voice was the first thing in breaking.

Miguel stared at you for a moment and then put his things down on the floor with a sigh. He rolled up his sleeves and grabbed your keys that felt tiny on his large hands. He could feel the weight of the door against the doorframe, knowing that if he was too rough, the whole door would cave in and make the problem worse.

He just stared at it's structure for some minutes, evaluating what could be wrong with it.

The elevator dinged open, revealing Hobie with a bag of groceries. He entered his apartment to drop the bags and then came your way. Eyeing the situation from afar.

"You gotta push against it, mate" He wore ripped jeans, his red boots, a sleeveless and irregular neck shaped shirt and studded bracelets.

Miguel acknowledged him with a glance before focusing on the door again.

"That's probably what messed up the hinges last night."

Hobie's eyebrow quirked as he deadpanned.

"If I push the door open, the whole thing will cave in and it'll make everything worse" Miguel spoke as he gently took the doorknob and pulled back, the door creaked but it didn't cave in, but it fell back on the floor with a metallic thud.

Miguel looked at the back of the door and grunted.

"That's the problem. Hinges are rusted, and the screws are loose."

"Hobie? Could I borrow your tools for a second?"

"Haven't unpacked them yet, birdie"

If there was a staring contest, you were sure it was a tie. Miguel's ever present frown deepened slightly as Hobie gave him a complete poker face. Tension in the air, you saw your other friendly neighbor coming through the elevator with his dog.

"It's okay, I'll ask him." You smiled nervously at him and approached your neighbor to ask him for some tools.

Hobie huffed with a slight smirk at Miguel

"Good luck with that dead naff door, mate. Imma leg out."

He turned around and left, giving a quiet smile your way.

"Charming" he mumbled once he was out of hearing

"Told you to be nice. He helped me out last night." you gave the screwdrivers to him, "Need any help?"

"I'm good. Yo me encargo"

"Yeah, Y'know I might start learning spanish cause... I don't understand what you're saying sometimes"

He smiled mischievously as he effortlessly held the door and began screwing it back to its place.

"What's the fun in that then?"

"I mean, for all I know you could be making fun of me or worse" you spoke as you picked up his belongings and yours to take them inside.

" Or worse? Hm... probably"

"You're mean. But I'm grateful you're helping me out. Again."

"At this point I'll start keeping tabs."

"Ouch."

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

Miguel fixed your door, but explained to you it was a temporary solution, lucky you'd know how to fix it in case another incident happened.

"Here" you gave him a glass of water as he looked around, taking in your surroundings. He then gave you the storage box.

"What happened today?" he drank from the glass

"Oh... uh, I told you shitty day. Got trapped here, got an hour late at work, the client was pissed she wasn't getting the numbers right of her products, blamed my boss and me," you sighed, annoyed

"Then the manager scolded me for not having the data on hand, cause it's in one of these little things, then the landlord told me my door is getting replaced next week, traffic and the door. But now, at least three of those issues are solved."

You slumped on the couch. exhausted

"Sorry for always dragging you to help me around"

"You apologize too much. "

You were about to open your mouth to apologize but remained shut. His frown decreased a bit and his face relaxed.

"Gotta go"

"Sure, Thanks for the help. I really appreciate it."

"De nada, hermosa"

"Might call you one day to help me out with some furniture that needs to be assembled"

He deadpanned and you giggled.

"Of course I am joking. I know you are really busy."

He picked up his things and you went to the door with him.

"Might do some time for that"

"Really? I might prepare something to eat then. Or maybe you could show me some cooking skills"

"I'll think about it"

You nodded with a bashful smile.

"Thanks, Miguel."

"See you"

You closed the door, it didn't lock you up this time.

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

Tal Vez una junta y un memo hacen que estos pendejos trabajen bien.- Maybe a meeting and a memo will make these fuckers to work properly

Sólo porque me lo pides de por favor.. - Only cause you're asking nicely

El Principito - The Little Prince

"Cuentos Por Teléfono- Telephone Tales (Highly recommended btw <3 By Gianni Rodari)

Mi Sol - My Sun

Pasa linda noche, muñeca- Have a nice night, doll

Yo me encargo - I've got this

De nada, hermosa - You're welcome, beautiful

Taglist ❤️

@vyxvi

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

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #atsv miguel #female reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel ohara x you #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel spiderman #miguel x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel x you #slow burn #Rocky start with Hobie

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fatallyfalling · 5 months

Text

Bitter Water 0.02 ~ ♆

“ I’d rather choose death than a life with blood on my hands.“

warnings: typical Hunger Games violence/trauma/themes, language, blood, injury, insinuation of forced prostitution, enemies to lovers, slow burn, Finnick is a bit of an ass, thoughts/mention of death, nightmares, etc

{{ word count }} 3.6 k

{{ prompt }} The train ride to the Capital is underway, tensions run high as anticipation for the Games increases. A certain peacock continues to test your temper and self-restraint as well.

{{ a/n }} I promise Finnick gets more than one line this time and there’s more talking than exposition :”) Finnick also leans pretty heavily into his “golden rich boy” attitude when interacting with reader. They very obviously dislike one another haha but anyhoo, Mags communicates through hands gestures and writing with few whispered words here and there ><; Enjoy!!

Mags kindly showed you to your personal room once you no longer felt as if you were suffocating and could stand. Your mentor was endearing, if not doting, though she hadn’t said two words during your ordeal. You didn’t mind. You probably would’ve been unable to say anything coherent, you realize, giving a weak, raspy thanks before she left. The door slides closed with an industrial “Click”. An exhausted sigh slips from your lips as the aftermath of your episode weighs down.

You hadn’t experienced an episode that fierce in a long while. A couple months at least. The white-hot throbbing from the wound at your temple is worse than ever. The dried blood caked to the side of your face itches.

After a moment or two of leaning against the cool metal, catching your breath, you manage a turn and take in your room. It’s not nearly as extravagant as the dining car or sitting room, allowing a sign of personal relief. Everything was a rather gloomy palette of neutral grays with accents of that deeply stained wood again. The room is small considering the size restraint of the train cars. Only a twin-size bed and side table occupy the space, a small wardrobe is built into the wall, and a narrow door you can assume leads to a barebones washroom.

Your knees nearly give out beneath you as you barely kick off your boots and stagger into the small connecting space. Trembling hands fumble to find the sink but quickly grip the cold onyx porcelain. Another shaky inhale goes in and out through your nose before you dare to peer in the silver mirror.

You looked like shit - to say the least.

Flyaways of hair had come down across your forehead again, not to mention the small cut above your right temple, already turning a gnarly mixture of purple and red. Blood was caked down your cheek, movements of muscle under your skin causing the crimson streaks to crack and flake off. Your sage-colored ensemble had drops of blood around the collar, along with newly formed creases and dust smears from hitting the concrete in the auditorium. There was even a rip at the hemming from your fall.

You didn’t want to know what your aching knees or bloodied hands looked like.

The icy running water felt like heaven on your burning skin. You work quickly to remove the blood as best you can, albeit traces remain in the nitty gritty gaps beneath your fingernails. You tried to remove the blood from your collar, but there was still a faded red tinge mixing with the green as you gave up on trying. Your knees were scraped but not as bad as your temple. The soap smelled nice, at least - like roses.

Back then, the smell didn’t make you want to vomit like it did now.

You didn’t leave the small washroom for a while, leaning against the closed door while slowly sliding to the ground and curling in a heap on the tiled floor. The room fell silent at the absence of running water and your occasional frustrated grunt. All that was left was the muffled hum of the moving train and the occasional mechanical whistle or whirring of the industrial beast that held you captive. You tried to focus you’re breathing.

Deep breath in, hold for three.

Deep breath out, hold for four.

Repeat.

You repeated the exercise till you no longer felt like screaming or throwing something. If you stepped out of line violently, it would immediately fall back to your family. You couldn’t allow that. You’d rather be in front and take the brunt of whatever punishment the Capital deemed fit than put those horrors on them. You had to keep going.

You had to survive.

But how? You didn’t know much about physical combat besides a few things your father had taught you for self-defense. Knowing your way around a body of water wouldn’t even matter if there was none in the arena. Your skill set focused more on your wit, knowledge of certain herbs, determining edible water life, mending sails or nets, and ensuring two rowdy toddlers ate their vegetables.

Maybe you could make it by hiding and outlasting, but that felt like a coward's way out. The chances of surviving that way were slim to none. Your only other option was to fight, but the thought made you nauseated all over again. Hiding it was, then. You could only hope there was something useful in the ugly maw of death that awaited during the Games.

You didn’t leave your quarters the rest of that evening.

You eventually managed to crawl out of the washroom and onto the plush bed outside. You all but sunk into the feather-stuffed mattress and the soft blankets, but it felt wrong. The way your throbbing head melded to the pillow felt too clean. Everything felt too sterile, and you were sullying that cleanliness with your “District filth”. But a part of you didn’t care. If you were to die in the coming weeks, why not leave your mark- your stain.

Why not rub a bit of beach sand and salty seawater into every crevice of this damn place?

If you had to perform for the Capital, be their prize-winning salmon, then so be it. You’ll perish out of pure spite if you have to. But you wouldn’t go down without a fight. That bitter promise burned through the thrumming in your temple.

You will not die.

Your sleep was fitful. Honestly, you couldn’t decide whether to consider the night you had a form of sleep at all. No matter how inviting the plush materials of the bed were, you didn’t catch a wink. Flashes of your twin siblings and your father suffering as a consequence of your shortcomings plagued your mind in too vivid horrors. There were a few instances when your eyes shot open with a scream tearing from your throat. At one point or another, you couldn’t stand the bed any longer and locked yourself in the tiny washroom for the rest of the night.

There weren’t any windows, so you kept the lights on, although dimmed for ease on your bloodshot eyes. You cowered in a corner behind the glass shower door, staring blankly ahead. The water from the overhead faucet felt like pinpricks of ice. You were drenched to the bone, your clothes weighing heavy, and the skin on the pads of your fingers had shriveled from the water. You were trembling terribly, but the frigid water was calming. You always found water grounding. Running to the sea on your breaks from the shipyard, wading ankle-deep in the sea foam, and digging your toes in the wet sand. Some mornings, you’d sneak out. Making the long trek to the short cliffs to dive from for a brisk morning plunge. It felt like freedom to be in the water.

It felt like home.

But the water didn’t feel like home right now. The ice-cold downpour of the shower only reminded you that you were still breathing, still alive. The water rooted you to your huddled place on the slick tile, solidifying your grip on reality and the fact you weren’t anywhere near the sea and you weren’t anywhere near your home anymore. You may never see District 4 or the ocean again. Hot, salty tears mixed with frigid water in an oddly satisfying combination down your cheeks. The tears were silent as they streamed.

You weren’t sure how long you sat under the water, but the sudden, aggressive banging on the washroom door registering in your thoughts was a perfect reality check. Scrambling in surprise, you managed to shut off the shower head, slide the glass door open, and make contact with the sliding door handle. All while only slipping once on the wet tile.

Your name was cut off mid-shout as you shoved the door open to stare into bewildered sea-green eyes. Water was already pooling at your feet and dripped onto the originator of all the yelling. The boy had changed his clothes, opting for an ivory tunic, slim-fitted brown pants, and matching brown boots. The look on his face made him an open book as his eyes roved over your soaked form. A smug expression contorts into his features, making his dimples stand proud and a crinkle forming at the corners of his eyes.

“Why are you all wet?”

“None of your business.” You state bluntly before trying to close the door in his face. Your attempt is in vain, however, as Finnick moves to block the opening with his arm and shoves the door back open. “It is when I’ve been out here, knocking, for thirty minutes. I think I’m owed some kind of explanation, at least.” He huffs, crossing his arms over his chest while his boot moves to keep the door open.

“I don’t spill secrets to pretty Capital Peacocks.” You seethe, venom lacing your tone as you throw a pointed glare toward the boy.

“Aw, you think I’m pretty? Go on,~” Finnick all but purrs. You inhale sharply through your nose as you debate if slapping that stupid cheshire smirk off his face is worth it. His pointed, too-white teeth glint in the dim light, and your eye twitches. “Just leave me alone.” You scoff, shoving past the boy and stalking toward your bed. Water trails after you in puddles on the floor. A damp handprint clings to his clothed chest where contact was made, but you don’t notice as your face plants onto the plush blankets below.

“I was sent to get you up, you know. I’m not just here for kicks. Besides, you already missed lunch.” Finnick drawls, an irritation threading through his voice as he tilts his head at your face-down body. “Go away.” You groan. Your voice is muffled, but you don’t bother to move as the bedding grows damp beneath you. “I can’t leave until you get up.” The victor scoffs. You hear footsteps and the sound of a drawer being pulled before multiple pieces of fabric are thrown at your head. Your face snaps up at the assault, glaring hotly at the bronze-haired boy. “What are you doing?” You seethe, earning an eye roll as a response. “Change.” Finnick orders. You simply burn holes into his skull for a minute before he rolls his eyes again and turns away to face a wall. With a few incoherently grumbled profanities, you swipe the clothes and pad back to the washroom.

The articles of clothing thrown were a simple navy blue long sleeve and inky loose fitted bottoms. There was a pair of black crew socks as well. Slowly, you strip the waterlogged ensemble from your body, your shivering only worsening as the cold air kisses your skin. You quickly towel yourself off before slipping the fresh clothing on. The pants are lightweight linen with a drawstring, allowing easy adjustment, and the top is a soft stretch cotton that hugs your torso and arms.

Upon emerging from the washroom, you spot the Capital’s Darling still facing the wall. “You didn’t have to stay like that.” You quip, tucking damp strands of hair behind your ears before hugging your arms around yourself. The room was still cold. “With that glare of yours? I started to wonder if the Games would start early~” Finnick teases, a smug expression still capturing his tanned features as he turns.

“You’re insufferable Odair,”

“Hm, I’d like to think of myself as…charming~” The amused lilt in the Darling’s voice has your eyes narrowing again and blood simmering. “Uh-huh, keep telling yourself that.” You murmur, hugging yourself tighter as a shiver runs through you. “Word of advice? Catching a cold won’t do you any good in the arena.” Finnick drawls, his head cocking to the side while quirking a brow. Your glare turns to daggers, and the boy raises his hands as if to surrender.

“Just saying,”

“I don’t need your advice,” You snap back, not appreciating his teasing in the slightest. “I wasn’t trying to get sick. The water helps...” You offer an explanation enough. There’s a falter in Finnick’s demeanor at your words. Maybe it was the flicker of a crease between his brows, the sudden deep inhale he took, or the tightness that appeared in his shoulders, but you immediately take note of the change. It felt like peeking behind a screen, but as quickly as it appeared, it vanished, Golden Boy charm snapping back into place.

“Let’s go, they’ve waited long enough.”

You follow the bronze-haired boy back through the hallways of the moving train to the dining car. Everyone is already seated as you arrive, causing your ears to turn red in slight embarrassment. You quietly slip into your seat beside your District partner with Finnick across from you again, and Thatcher clears his throat, “Nice of you to finally join us.” the escort’s tone is filled with irritation, but you simply keep your eyes trained on your hands folded in your lap. There are scabs on your palms from yesterday, and traces of dried blood still hide in the crevices of your nail beds.

“This evening, we shall arrive in the Capital. As I so graciously explained yesterday, we’ll have to move swiftly. Once we step off into the station, our wonderful Tributes and their respective mentors shall be whisked away by their stylists in preparation for the opening ceremonies and Tribute parade,” Thatcher’s voice strains on the word “wonderful” and you feel your blood simmering again at the sarcastic remark. They explain minor details concerning the parade procession and more miscellaneous rules and expectations for the Tributes. Your brain feels less like mush today, thankfully. But your ears don’t tune into the spiel,till they mention the victor sitting across from you.

“Mr. Odair, our dear Capital’s Sweetheart, will be departing from us the remainder of your stay in the Capital due to having business elsewhere in the city.”

“As long as he’s not bothering me, that sounds great,” You quip internally with a flickering glance across the table. Finnick shifts in his seat, only his eyes glance at Mags. The mentor’s facial expression doesn’t reveal anything. But her eyes glint with something like worry. “Odd…” You think before averting your gaze back to the lecturing escort. “There will be lots of cameras once we arrive, so I suggest you all look your best. At least one of you has cleaned up already,” Thatcher mentions with eyes peering at you in an up-and-down motion. It’s your district partner’s turn to shift in their seat now. You merely roll your eyes and look back down to your hands.

The escort continues their lecture for a few more minutes before suggesting, “We should leave our tributes to discuss strategy with their mentors. Come with me, Mr. Odair. We have details to discuss of our own.” with that, Mags reaches out and gives a squeeze to Finnick’s hand, a small smile on her lips and in turn receiving a tight-lipped smile from the boy as he stands and leaves the dining car to follow Thatcher.

Once the two are gone, your gaze falls to Mags, who motions with a gesture of her thin hands to follow her. Your district partner and their mentor have already begun discussing in harsh whispers, leaving you to suppose there’s no room for alliance. Standing, you quietly pad after the elderly woman into a sitting room you partially recognize from yesterday.

You take places across from one another in the deep, royal blue velvet armchairs without a word. An inkling of awkwardness whispers through you, but part of you can’t help feeling calm around the mentor. Mags offers you a small but sweet smile, giving a few hand gestures you chalk up to asking how you’re doing. “Not well…I didn’t sleep…” You frown, and your mentor gives a sympathetic expression in return. She understands as she leans forward to place a hand on your knee. You manage a meek smile before continuing the conversation.

“I’m terrified, honestly…I-I don’t know the first thing about fighting. I don’t know if I could even stomach hurting, let alone kill another person… but I can’t die. I-I have to get back to my family.” Your eyes are pleading as you wring your hands together out of anxiety. “And I know hiding isn’t the best option, but it might be easier than fighting…” You continue to vent between rambling off apologies for said venting, but Mags doesn’t stop you. Your mentor sits patiently and listens. That sweet, caring expression and comfort in her eyes never leave. She knows you’re scared. She’s been a mentor for numerous years, and she’s done this every year since her victory in the 11th Hunger Games. She understands your concerns better than anyone could.

Once all your emotions and fears are laid on the table, you manage to list off your skills. Mags takes notes on everything in a small notepad she found in a side table drawer. She gives a few hand gestures to insist she’s listening as she writes in a small, curvy font.

Net weaving (hunting & gathering)

Sewing/Sail mending (could be good for stitches if necessary)

Minimal herb/Root knowledge (gathering)

Swimming

Able to lift/pull/push own body weight

Nimble/good climber

Swift runner

Basic self defense combat

Knowledge of edible water-life (hunting & gathering)

Good witrh a knife

The two of you spend the next couple of hours defining uses for the skills you already have and figuring out how to amplify your strongest ones. You mostly spoke while Mags listened, but occasionally, she’d murmur a short, barely audible response. Otherwise, everything was conveyed in hand gestures or writing. You found a good technique for understanding each other. She even taught you a few hand signals of your own to utilize. You started to feel like you might have a chance of at least not dying immediately during the initial “bloodbath” in the arena.

“Thank you… for being kind to me..”

You start after a beat of quiet. Your mentor gives that sweet smile again as she moves to wrap her arms around you in a gentle but warm embrace. That feeling of safety washes through you again, and hesitantly, you return the embrace before you separate.

The sky has started to dim from bright blues to soft oranges and pinks with hints of purple. An announcement is made for the evening meal. It was quite a lovely sight, but you still preferred the sunsets you saw while sitting on the summits of rocky cliffs back on the coast of District 4. This was just another ghostly reminder of home. You let Mags lead you back to the dining car. There’s light conversation instead of silence this time. It feels nice to be able to talk with and trust someone. Even though the circumstances of your meeting were rather grim.

Thatcher gives another lecture between phlegmy coughs throughout the meal. You are uninterested in the food, opting to poke your fork around your plate. Fearing you might be sick by the familiar anxious knots twisting in your stomach the closer you got to the Capital. There were more tunnels as the train sped towards the city. You weren’t a fan of the flashing lights. During one of the longer tunnels, you find yourself shrinking back into your chair from the shadows.

“Scared of the dark?~”

Finnick drawls from across the table. His bronze waves are backlit by the flashing tunnel lights causing his pointed, too-white teeth to all but shine under the lights as his lips pull back in that stupid cocky smirk of his. Your ears burn red as the other table members turn to view the interaction. “No, I don’t like being confined,” You snap back, crossing your arms over your chest and squaring your shoulders back in your seat as light floods the car upon exiting the tunnel. “You say that, but you’re about to be trapped in an arena to fight till only one of you is left alive for the entertainment of all of Panem,” Finnick quips, cocking his head to the side as his smirk gets wider. “ Sounds pretty confining if you ask me,” You know he’s instigating. Picking a fight to see how you’ll react and if you’re all bark and no bite. The problem is, you do bite.

“At least I’m not confined to a Capital that favors pretty Peacocks for killing innocent children.” The viciousness you usually keep on a tight, tight leash lashes out and snaps. And you don’t care to try and stop it.

“I’d rather choose death than a life with blood on my hands.”

Your venom hangs heavy in the air as you glare at one another. Mags is trying to gesture and de-escalate the situation, but you place your hands flat on the table and stand, pushing your chair back.

“I think I’ve lost my appetite.”

With that, you turn and storm back to your quarters with heavy footsteps. Barely hearing Thatcher's snide comment on your “Blasphemous outburst.”

That claim was the last thing you said to the 65th Victor as you hoped you’d never see his face again.

@emerald-09 @reader-bookling123 @finnickodaddy @thehairington86 @darlingsoulbeautifulthoughts @avoxrising @meri-soni-meri-tamanna @whens-naptime

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guacamoleroll · 5 months

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— 𝖇𝖆𝖗𝖌𝖆𝖎𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌 + 𝖈𝖍𝖚𝖚𝖞𝖆 ₊˚⊹

pairing: chuuya nakahara (bungou stray dogs) x gender-neutral!reader

content warning(s): usage of strong language, discussions of money, nicknames (doll, love, honey), capitalism

would you like to see more? join the taglist or comment under this post!

One would believe that Chuuya Nakahara, the fearsome gravity-manipulator of the Port Mafia and one of the richest men in Yokohoma, wouldn't care about scrutinizing over labels or sales. It wouldn't matter to him — practically nothing could make a dent in his bank account, and anything that could would be replaced with more money a week later. He had more than most would see in a lifetime.

But you reconsidered this notion as you stood at the entrance of a large shopping center. observing your fiery red-headed boyfriend badger the regional manager over the abnormally increased price of a glassware set.

"You know damn well these only go for a third of the price in the next town over. So what's the fucking deal, eh?"

Anyone watching the scene would have assumed that it was another stuck-up snob harassing a poor sales associate, but you knew better. Chuuya was heavily involved in almost every trade in Yokohama, whether those at the surface knew or not. And while he had no problem draining every last cent out of bastards who spent all their time terrorizing innocent people for money, he would never target an innocent employee like that. It was always the higher-ups skimming off the top of their sales, and it always managed to piss him off. After all, they pay less in production for the products, cut their employees' salaries as low as they can, and take the rest for themselves.

It happened almost each time you went out for a seasonal shopping try. That was a trait of his, calling out bullshit whenever he deems it necessary. And there was no way in hell he would allow people to get in the way of spoiling those he loves — at the reasonable value for the items he's purchasing.

"Come on, doll. We're leavin'."

You promptly left the store in toe, the ginger standing out front in a huff. It wouldn't surprise you if the store appeared on the news in a couple of days, or even hours. You merely cracked a smile, the corners of your lips quivering as they tried to hold back laughter, only for it to spill forth as you attempted to contain it behind a gloved hand.

His brows furrowed, inching closer to catch a look at you as you tried to shield your face. "What'd ya' think is so funny, huh?"

You couldn't restrain yourself any longer, practically making a fool of yourself as you laughed in his face. He looked like a pouting kitten as you both stood in the frigid winter air, his pale cheeks reddened with the wind along with a flush of sheer embarassment. Your laughter ended, or at least attempted to in a handful of unbecoming snorts, swallowing your giggles while catching your breath as his twisting expression on preserved your humor.

"S-Sorry, love. You're just-" you huffed between stammers, grin reaching your eyes as he continued to glare. "Your enthusiasm is unmatched."

He pouted, his persistant scowl looking even cuter with each passing second as he hid his face. "It pisses me off, okay."

You finally calmed your breathing, shuffling around in a vain attempt to catch his gaze through the corner of his eyes, but nothing. So, you pressed a kiss against his cheek, making the peony color bloom into a full rose as he shrunk further into his scarf.

"I looove you, Chuuya," you teased with a smirk. He mumbled something underneath his breath, incoherent with only the wind as his witness. You raised a brow, leaning forward as you tilted your head to look him in the eye.

"What was that, honey? I couldn't hear—"

You melted as he melded his lips into your own, as brief as the life of a snowflake as he pulled away, not looking you in the eyes. Instead, he intertwined his hand with yours, squeezing tight as he obstructed your view of his face.

"I said I love you, too, idiot."

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @imhandicapableofmath @seisitive @hauntedsol @ruru-kiss @ishqani @zyilas @lovesick-fairy @fedyascoffin @aquigglewigglewoo @kelperspelt @kotysluny

#muse's anthology ‧₊˚ ⋅#gn!reader #starring: chuuya .ೃ࿐#bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bsd #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #muse's 2023 advent event ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡#chuuya bsd #chuuya nakahara #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya x reader

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archiveikemen · 27 days

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Liam Evans Main Story: Chapter 25 (Crazy Love)

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection. I do not own any of the original content. Please support CYBIRD by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

❥･• Warnings and FAQ

If life was a fairytale, it’d be easy to be happy.

As long as you refrain from “doing the wrong things”. For example…

Entering a forest that’s off limits, opening a door you shouldn’t, knowing a forbidden secret, and—

…

Kate: Thank you so much for the help you’ve given me all this time.

Colleague: I’m going to be so lonely without you here. But I’ll always be hoping for your success. Take care, Kate.

My colleagues bid me farewell after I told them that I would continue my service to the imperial court.

I reassured them that there were amazing people at the court, and working there would be like a promotion.

They were delighted to hear that. But had I told them what my new job truly entailed and who I was living with, their response would definitely be much different.

At least, that was me a month ago.

I said goodbye to the post office that smelled like ink and walked away, wiping away the small feeling of loneliness.

…

London, the capital of England, was the world’s most prosperous city under the reign of Her Majesty Queen Victoria.

Everyone lived their lives by their own desires, and today was no different.

In a corner of the street, I spotted a poster of my lover.

(Ah… it’s a poster of Liam.)

The poster announced the performance of a new play at The Scala called “The Hunchback of Notre-Dame”, with Liam starring as the main character.

And the premiere was tonight.

— Today, I’m lying to Liam about one thing.

Liam was unaware that I was going to watch the play.

(Liam got me tickets for the closing show, but I bought myself tickets to the premiere without telling him.)

(As a big fan of theatre, of course I have to secure tickets for myself!)

(Also…)

Liam was always gifting me bouquets of flowers, so I wanted to surprise him tonight by buying him flowers too.

(Fufufu, I hope I can give him a surprise.)

…

I went to a flower shop in the ever so lively Leadenhall Market to choose flowers for Liam.

(What kind of flowers should I get him? There's Gerbera, Cosmos… Ah.)

Amongst the various flowers on display, I found some modern roses that resembled the colour of Liam’s hair.

Modern roses were the flowers Liam often gifted me.

(... Yep, I’ve decided. I’ll go with these.)

Kate: Excuse me. Could you kindly put these modern roses into a bouquet for me, please?

Florist: Sure! These flowers are pretty rare and we don't always have them in stock. You’re very lucky.

Florist: By the way, did you know that modern roses have a very wonderful meaning in flower language?

Kate: No… what do they mean?

Florist: Modern roses signify “gratitude”. For example, you’re grateful to have met someone.

(“I’m grateful that I met you”.)

(I don’t think I’ve ever said that to Liam.)

– Flashback Start –

Kate: Thank you so much, Liam. I’ll be sure to cherish them well, so that they’ll keep blooming for a long time.

Kate: If I display them by my room’s window, they’ll definitely bring a smile to my face tomorrow morning…

Liam: If flowers can make you smile every morning, then I’ll give you however many flowers you want!

– Flashback End –

Ever since we met, Liam has gifted me countless bouquets of flowers that signify “gratitude”.

(What was Liam feeling each time he gifted me those flowers?)

(Has Liam… ever received such beautiful flowers from anyone?)

Throughout his life, there was probably not a single person who celebrated his existence.

Liam was physically and mentally wounded, to the point where he felt hopeless and wanted to give up on himself.

But I believed that Liam possessed a pure heart that cherished the people around him dearly.

It must've been so painful for him to live in such a cruel world with that kind heart.

I wished that he would throw his kindness away instead of bear the burden of his pain and suffering, but that was definitely not the kind of person Liam was.

(I can’t turn back time, but I can still express it to him from now on.)

(From now on, I’ll tell him often how grateful I am for him.)

(I’ll continue celebrating his existence.)

…

Seated close to the seats on the first floor of the theatre, I watched the curtains rise for “The Hunchback of Notre-Dame”.

– Flashback Start –

Tom: Liam, overcome your struggles. After “Hamlet”, play the role of Quasimodo in “The Hunchback of Notre-Dame”.

– Flashback End –

Just like he promised to that day, Liam portrayed himself as Quasimodo and overcame all odds as him.

Quasimodo (Liam): “This world I live in can be so cruel that there are times I want to look away from it, abandon it… and even stop living.”

Quasimodo (Liam): “But, even so… I have to keep on living!”

Quasimodo (Liam): “Until the day this heart stops beating…!”

The final lines were followed by an atmosphere so silent you could hear a water droplet fall.

— One second, two seconds, three seconds.

Then came a roar of non-stop thunderous applause.

I stood up from my seat and clapped for Liam as he stood under the spotlight during the curtain call.

(Ah… he shines so bright. So, very, bright.)

His graceful bow towards the audience made him look like a beautiful star people longed for, but I knew that my hands could touch that star.

Curly Haired Lady: … *sniffle*

Freckled Lady: Goodness, why are you crying? … *sniffle* I’m crying too. Something feels different about Liam, don't you think?

Curly Haired Lady: … Yeah. I can’t really say it well… but he seems much happier than before.

Hearing the voices of Liam’s passionate fans made my lips relax into a smile.

(Ah…)

My eyes met Liam’s from afar.

Liam: :D

(H-He noticed me.)

Liam flashed me a broad smile when he saw me, and winked at me.

Liam: ;)

Curly Haired Lady: Kya! H-He just…! Liam just winked at me!

Freckled Lady: Y-You fool! Liam winked at me! ME!

Curly Haired Lady: Nooo, me! Liam~! I love you!

Freckled Lady: Not fair! I love you too…!

Liam: :0

Liam: Haha.

…

One of the theatre members told me to wait for Liam on stage, and so I stood there on the empty stage after all the audience had left the theatre.

The spotlight above was so bright, I involuntarily squinted my eyes.

(... With a light this bright, there’s no escaping from or hiding anything.)

Whether it's in the light or in the pitch darkness, there was no such thing as remaining completely unharmed.

Sometimes, life can be so cruel that we feel like throwing it away.

Liam: Kate.

Kate: … Liam.

Despite that, I never want to let go of this miracle — every moment when our eyes meet, when we're breathing together, and when my heart races with excitement at the sight of him.

However embarrassing it may be, I held tightly onto even the tiniest bits of hope, wanting to live.

Until the day darkness comes for us.

Standing face to face with each other, I held out the bouquet I had hidden behind my back to my lover.

Kate: Congratulations on the premiere, Liam! Also…

Kate: Thank you for being alive.

Liam: T-These flowers…

Liam: … Haha. … It’s my first time hearing someone thank me for being alive.

Liam awkwardly accepted the bouquet.

— He smiled with genuine joy.

Kate: I didn't expect you to see me from the stage. I wanted to surprise you.

Liam: These eyes were made to look for you.

Liam: By the way, what were you looking at just now?

Kate: I was looking at the spotlight. It’s so bright.

Liam: When you lie down here and look up — it’s even brighter.

Liam laid down on the floor and patted his side, motioning me to lie down next to him.

Following him, I joined him on the floor under the bright spotlight.

(Woah…)

Kate: The lights kind of look like the stars in the sky, don't they?

Liam: … Yeah, I know.

Liam: Hey, Kate… do you know of this saying?

Liam: The moment you get to a place where the stars are within an arm’s reach, you’ll find it difficult to breathe. Within seconds, you’ll be on your way to heaven.

Liam: I don’t really understand, but for some reason it’s just always in my head.

I found myself staring at Liam’s profile as he spoke.

Kate: … If you could go to that place where you could touch the stars, would you want to?

Liam: If I could touch the stars… huh.

Liam reached a hand towards the spotlights hanging from the ceiling.

Liam: Even now, I still long to touch something as beautiful as the stars.

I recalled the day when he told me that everything apart from himself was beautiful.

Liam: But…

He pulled me close with an outstretched arm, firmly holding my shoulder.

Liam: Right now, however dirty or ashamed I feel… I much prefer being able to touch you like this.

Liam: I always will.

Liam: Perhaps, this way, I’ll always be happy.

As Liam spoke with a soft smile—

I leaned in and gave him a gentle kiss on the neck.

Liam: … It tickles.

Liam just living on with a beating heart was enough for me to see him as the most beautiful person in the world, like the brightest star in the sky; and yet, he would most likely spend the rest of his life refusing to acknowledge his beauty and wishing to become a star while carrying the burden of his permanent scars.

(Even if you never realise how beautiful you are, I’ll always stay by your side and watch over you.)

Liam: I wonder what tomorrow will bring.

Liam: I don't know what will happen, but I think it’d be nice to have you with me…

Liam: I hope that you’ll have me in your eyes tomorrow too…

Kate: What are you talking about…? I’ll always be waiting for you to spend our tomorrows together, until you get sick of it.

Liam: Then… let’s be together until the very last second of our lives.

Liam: Ahh, I’m looking forward to tomorrow…

Enveloped by the light that resembled the stars in the sky, we waited for our tomorrow to come.

Our hearts beating together.

#ikemen villains #ikemen series #cybird ikemen #otome #cybird otome #ikevil main story #liam main story #liam evans

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itsthesinbin · 28 days

Text

You Had It All. You Had Him. (Valentino/Reader)

Just a little idea of what if you and Val were close in life and ended up in hell together/how he'd treat someone he actually Likes that ISN'T on the same power level as him.

Suggestive at the end. Reader is Gender Neutral.

TW: the Vees being the Vees, possessiveness, codependency, implied abuse (not toward reader), implied drugging (sorta. val's saliva is like a pheromone), implied high/drugged sex (from said pheromone), implied stalking/voyeurism (from Vox)

if I'm missing anything on the tw just lmk

If you like it, reblog it!

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

It was no secret how possessive Valentino was, what with him having Vox install cameras everywhere to keep an eye on his “assets”. Only a select few people had the pleasure of holding Val’s affection- the definition of which would change depending on who the target was. Angel Dust was an unfortunate soul stuck on the more insincere end of Valentino’s “affections”, and was kept under as tight of a lock and key as he could get.

You were… a different story.

You and Valentino had arrived in Hell together, glued to the hip in life and now in death. You didn’t remember the details of your death. Valentino did, and he always told you the same thing when you asked: “Why does it matter? We’re here now, aren’t we?” You guessed he was right.

Valentino had taken it upon himself to keep you both safe in the literal Hell you both found yourselves in. Stuck on the streets, Valentino had sold himself to get the money needed for food. Then a hotel. Then weapons. You didn’t like guns- you were probably considered a hippie back in the day- but Valentino insisted you keep one on you. Taught you how to shoot.

Once the weapons were secured, he shifted from sex to robbery to get the money he needed. Or both, if he could get away with it. You were terrified he wouldn’t come back one day- leave you totally alone in the afterlife. Even if he was damaged, though, he always returned in one piece. He loved to play up how sore he was so you’d baby him. He always did, even before arriving here.

Eventually, your apartment was tiny and shitty, but it was a stable home. Rent was atrocious- you figured capitalism would survive down here. But you had food on the table, clean clothes, and even a few luxury items.

And Valentino. Throughout it all, you had Val.

You both grew into your new bodies and abilities. You weren’t nearly as powerful as Val, who had begun to persuade people to sign their souls away to him. You still felt sick at the idea of such a thing, so you stayed on the sidelines while Valentino rose to greater heights. Got better money by starting his own porn studio. Gave you better places to live.

Then Vox and Velvette arrived.

By this point, you and Valentino had moved into an actual home. Big, and Valentino decorated it in his signature pinks and hearts. Everyone knew this house, and everything in it, belonged to the newest Overlord to rise in the ranks. People avoided you like the plague.

You answered the door at the insistent knocking. You first saw the shorter woman who was immediately eyeing your outfit and then the foyer’s decor. Then you craned your head up to meet the eyes of a figure you actually recognized. How could you not? He was in every commercial and every news program.

Vox smiled the same smile he gives in his interviews. The kind you give someone to disarm them. Valentino had the same talent, so you saw through it instantly. But you stayed polite. These two were powerful by themselves- you didn’t want to anger both of them.

“Hello there,” Vox started, sticking a hand out. “Vox, and this is my associate Velvette. This is the home of Valentino, right?” You shook his hand firmly, ignoring how his claws snagged the skin of your wrist from how long they were. Velvette didn’t go for a handshake, so you left her alone.

“Uh… yeah, he’s… upstairs. Let me go get him- make… yourselves at home,” you got out, undead heart hammering in your chest as they made their way to your couch. You would pray to God that Valentino wasn’t about to get killed, but you guessed God didn’t give a shit about you if you were down here.

You knocked on his door, cringing slightly when you heard a faint sigh. He hated being bothered when he was in his office. He took that time to edit the videos he recorded at the studio. It took a minute, but he eventually unlocked the door and opened it. Red smoke wafted out after him. You coughed slightly and waved it away, only for your wrist to be caught in a firm grip. You could tell he was annoyed.

“Mi vida, I’ve told you before-” you cut him off before he could continue to berate you.

“Vox and Velvette showed up. What did you do?” You told him, hissing the question quietly out of fear. His eyes widened, and his grip on your arm tightened a fraction. Then he let you go.

“Go grab your gun and hide it under the back of your shirt,” he instructed, a hand moving to your cheek. Your ears went back, and another hand settled on your hip. He smiled that charming smile- the one that always put you at ease.

“Hey, hey, mi cielito, I’ve kept you safe this whole time, haven’t I? Trust me, and get your gun. Only pull it out if I tell you to.” You swallowed, then nodded. With a purring little “good”, he let you go to grab his own. He was a little more brazen, keeping its holster visible on his hip. He headed downstairs while you went to get your own weapon. You figured he’d want you to be the element of surprise. You took a deep breath, then made your way down after him.

Val was greeting the two when you arrived. He sat down on the heart shaped loveseat, and held two of his arms out. You sat with him, leaning into him on instinct. His strong arms went around you securely, one hand immediately playing with your hair while the other settled on your hip. He always liked to put his claim to you on display. Had to, in this place. You saw Velvette sneer slightly, and Vox’s smile tightened in annoyance.

“Valentino,” Vox started, deciding to just ignore your presence. You were fine with that. Val was the businessman here.

“My partner and I come with a business proposition. You’re quickly becoming a very powerful Overlord- it’s impressive! But, with how long some of the others have been here, you’re bound to hit a… roadblock, so to speak.” Valentino frowned, tapping his foot angrily. In hopes of keeping his mood swings in check, you pressed closer and patted his chest. The claws in your hair scratched along your scalp gently in response.

“We’d like to offer a business partnership. Here at V- uh-” he coughed, trying to cover up the fact he was about to go into his actual business spiel. You and Val couldn’t help but snicker. Even Velvette snorted slightly as Vox grew flustered. He cleared his throat.

“The terms are simple: join us, and we’ll help keep your territories under control. You’ll get access to my very own brand for your work, too- cameras, lights, editing equipment…” That got Valentino’s attention. He perked up slightly, and Vox’s grin widened.

“I’m sure Velvette could even spare costumes and makeup.” “Sure can. Also got an idea for a love potion, if you’d be willing to help me develop it,” she smirked. Valentino’s hand stilled. A quick look at his face told you that he was considering it. Vox looked at you, and Val’s grip on you tightened. You knew instantly that Vox had leverage. You had a sinking feeling as Vox got a predatory look in his eye.

“And, of course, I can offer protection- for your actors, your assets… and whoever else may need it. I can have guards stationed at all times, and cameras everywhere.” Val’s hand slid from your head and down your back.

“... Give me a few days to think about it.” Vox and Val shook hands, and you saw your guests out. Valentino was deep in thought when you turned around.

You both were moved into Vox’s tower by the end of the month.

Which led you here. Dolled up in red and hearts and with a very obvious collar around your neck. You never signed a contract- not that Valentino needed you to. Even before dying, you relied on him. It was worse now- he had given you everything, and you didn’t think anything of it.

You sat in your lavish room, with Kitty brushing out your hair to get you ready for your date. The collar with the heart shaped name tag weighing heavy like lead stared back at you in the mirror. The camera in the corner behind you moved slightly, centering you in its lens. You knew Vox was watching you. He was watching everyone.

The door opened to reveal Valentino, who was absolutely delighted to see you. The shoot must’ve gone well, if he was in this good of a mood. He came over and all but shoved Kitty out of the way.

“Go get Papi a drink,” he barked at the robot, who scurried off quickly. Then he parked himself in a chair behind you, taking over where Kitty left off. Of course, he barely did anything before his mouth found its way to your neck.

“Almost ready to go, baby?” he all but purred. You rolled your eyes slightly in response.

“I would be, if you hadn’t kicked my hairdresser out,” you joked. He huffed, before pulling you back against him with his second set of arms.

“What can I say? I prefer having you to myself.” There was a tone to his voice that sent a shiver up your spine, and at this point you didn’t know if you liked it or not.

He finished your hair, turning your vanity chair around so he could see you fully. His face lit up at the hair, makeup, and outfit. He always liked to dress you to match whatever he wore under his wings that day, and gave you your own pair of heart shaped glasses.

“I could just eat you up, you know,” he hummed, hands traveling along your hips and up your arms. You felt your heart beat against your ribcage. The look in his eye, the way he grinned, said that he really could if you’d let him. The sound of Vox’s security camera moving made him twitch.

His wings flew open, blocking you from view. A hand went up to your face and his thumb stroked your cheek. You knew Vox and Val had a… relationship, so to speak, and it didn’t bother you too much. Free love and all that, a you from the past would’ve said. But Val was very particular about who you spent your time with- or who got to see him let his guard down with you.

“Maybe we can be a little late to dinner. I’m sure they’ll make an exception for us,” he grinned, red trailing down his chin as he leaned in. The sweet smell that always radiated off of him was a lot stronger now that he was close.

The familiar haze of Valentino draped over you as soon as his tongue was in your mouth. You felt your eyelids flutter and your muscles relax as his strong arms lifted you off the seat. You vaguely heard the whirr of the camera’s motorized joint following you. You stared into the lens over Valentino’s shoulder, as your demonic boyfriend trailed his tongue along your neck. You could tell it zoomed in on you both. From how Val let his wings back down, you guessed he wanted Vox to see. You didn’t argue.

You two didn’t end up going to dinner, instead staying in your bed until you both grew too tired to continue. Val snored away, head on your chest an antennae tickling your cheek. Your hand trailed up and down his back lightly, just how he liked it when he first got his wings and his spine stayed so sore as he adjusted.

In quiet moments like this, you could almost pretend you two were back in your shitty one bedroom apartment. Struggling day by day with you budgeting whatever money Valentino could bring in, but happy that you had each other. You were suffering, but you suffered together.

Now the collar dug into your neck, as he liked you to keep it on whenever you were with him. Another way of his to lay his claim. You ignored the fact you would see his brand on his workers. How that new spider demon hung off his arm when you would bring something to the studio and stared at you either with jealousy or despair. How you’d overhear Valentino be furious and angry behind a door and as soon as you’d enter he was back to his adoring self.

You didn’t really have any other option, not with how deep you’ve let yourself dig the whole that was codependency. You were terrified of being alone. Even if you could be, Vox has eyes and ears everywhere. You’d never get a chance to leave. You had no idea if you wanted to.

Valentino’s obsessions and possessive nature seeped into every aspect of his life. His videos, the way his actors were dressed, the way every little thing was personalized just for him. Including you.

You were safe. You were taken care of. You were protected. And, just like it’s been since the beginning of your afterlife, you had Valentino.

#hazbin hotel #valentino #valentino x reader

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never-gonna-danse-again · 2 months

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cutler

there isn’t enough of him (from what I’ve found) so here’s how I picture this awesome dude

would’ve been 35 in the events of Fo4 (born in Rivet City in 2252)

always relatively well kempt, decides to get a undercut/ crew cut upon joining the BOS to 'look more official' (he has light brown hair and hazel eyes, specifically)

not a tall guy; about 5’8 max and slim. Hilarious to quite a few that there’s like 6’4 Danse who was constantly at his side and then Cutler being unexpectedly short for a BOS knight

Had a great sense of humour; absolute king of sarcasm, almost as quick with his mouth than he was with a rifle

not so secret music enthusiast; brought the record player from him and Danse’s old flat to his quarters (moved it about to wherever he was currently posted, ) but didn’t always take his delicate vinyl records

Took a while to familiarise himself with the Brotherhood’s way of life, and initially struggled with the sudden conformity as a recruit. he wasn’t expecting them to be so harsh in their ways, and while working under Elder Maxson, he didn’t agree with his ideals. Slightly disheartened to see Danse so quickly sway to more extremist views, but tried not to bring it up/ doesn’t get the chance to

emmet was his cat (not proctor Quinlan’s, i hate that guy) who he found as a kitten on the street in his early years in the Commonwealth. Emmet’s about four now, and Haylen brings him the cat-equivalent to a feast on every birthday

has been dead for three years by 2287. His holotags have started to rust, despite Danse's efforts to keep them in prime condition; he's been wearing them as well as his own for all that time.

a genuinely kind person, possibly one of the sweetest people you would've met. Known in Rivet City to take care of lost children or pets until he found their home; luckily, selling scrap is a flexible business, and he would often take days off to help a boy find his way home

had a small scar just next to his right eye earnt in a bar fight (aka one of his favourite past times) when he underestimated an opponent that brought out a switchblade on him. Took lots of explaining when he came home

grew up with a relatively normal childhood until he was about ten, when a trade gone wrong left his father killed by mutants and his mother fleeing from the Capital Wasteland entirely. He started his scrap stall soon after, and survived on the streets of Rivet city alone; Cutler was fifteen and Danse was (figuratively, I believe that synths can age but slower than humans) seventeen when they met. They joined the BOS ten years later

slower learner in combat to start with, but rose to the rank of Knight quickly

took the scouting op without Danse knowing; the Paladin tried to convince him to leave it, but fails in the end

somehow managed to be in love under the Brotherhood's nose... perhaps it was his charm that kept their mouths shut

#cutler #fallout 4 #fo4 #brotherhood of steel #danse fallout 4 #elder maxson #paladin danse #ad victoriam #bos fo4 #prydwen #someone needs to write a book about him #if there isn't one i'll end up writing one at this rate

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oswy31 · 27 days

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CAREFUL with the crooked translation??? ¿??

👁👄👁

Let's talk about universes.

I actually have a lot of them, all of them were created in the Undertale rolls, and all of them I want to talk about someday.

One of my favorites is

"The Ages."

The roleplayer and I were thinking, what if Drim and Knightmare were 700 years old, but in our reality. A historical one.

In a reality where there was no war between humans and monsters, and yet magic was still intact, all AU lived in the same world, and the brothers were still the keepers of emotions.

We counted, and it turns out they were born somewhere in the 14th century, or rather, they were created artificially. Times were hard, and Nim wanted the next heirs to be those who could really protect the apples through the ages.

"Two princes were born (after unfortunately many failed attempts), but unfortunately they had to be hidden, so they would not take the throne in the future.

So began their adventure, which continues to this day. The brothers were very close, as they were taught that they were the only ones who would be with each other forever. Other monsters and humans, unfortunately, do not live that long.

The brothers traveled to different countries and developed a tactic to move every 15-20 years under new names, so that people would not suspect that they do not age at all.

We also have the headcanon that Dream and Knightmere have no gender, because well...they acquired the souls of apples, and apples...have no gender, physically. Though they were brought up as boys, it was probably due to the stereotypes of the Middle Ages, since they are future defenders.However, when the brothers' status rose, due to the accumulated capital, and in fashion were lush dresses, Drim liked them, so that the next couple of moves they could experiment not only with the change of names, but also the gender column in the passport. But Knightmare didn't like the idea as much as Drimu did, because he liked all sorts of elegant dresses, jewelry, and balls, of course.

So they actually lived until the 21st century, escaping from wars, avoiding photos and references in newspapers, saying goodbye to old friends, and gaining experience.

Now Dream and Knightmere live a quiet life in St. Petersburg, Knightmere works as a history professor in a higher education institution, and Dream has opened a simple flower shop. All they have to do is indulge in memories of the golden age.

I like them a lot, so maybe I'll ask them out sometime.

Давайте поговорим о вселенных.

У меня на самом деле их очень много, все они были созданы в андертейл ролках, и о всех я хочу когда нибудь рассказать.

Одна из моих любимых, это

"Эпохи"

Мы с ролевиком подумали, а что если бы Дриму и Найтмеру было бы 700 лет, но в нашей реальности. Исторической.

В реальности, где не было войны между людьми и монстрами, и при этом сохранилась бы магия, все AU жили бы в одном мире, и братья еще остались бы хранителями эмоций.

Мы посчитали, и получилось они родились где то в 14веке, точнее, их создали искуствеенно. Ведь времена были тяжелые, а Ним хотела чтобы следующими наследниками стали те, кто действительно сможет защитить яблоки сквозь века.

"Родились " на свет(после к сожалению много неудачных попыток) два принца, однако к сожалению их пришлось скрывать, так что трон в будущем они бы не переняли.

Так и началось их приключение, которое продолжается до сих пор. Братья были очень близки, ведь их учили что они единственные кто будет с друг другом всегда. Другие монстры и люди к сожалению, столько просто не живут.

Братья путешествовали по странам, выробатали тактику, переезжать каждые 15-20 лет под новыми именами, чтобы люди не заподозрили что те впринципе и не стареют вовсе.

Также у нас есть хэдканон, что у Дрима и Найтмера нет пола, ведь ну...они приобрели души яблок, а у яблок...нет пола, физически. Хотя воспитывали их как парней, вероятно это было связано со стереотипами средневековья, раз они будущие защитники.Однако, когда у братьев поднялся статус, засчет накопленого капитала, и в моде были пышные платья, Дриму они мягко сказать полюбились, так что следующие пару переездов они могли экспериментировать не только со сменой имён, но и графой пола в паспорте. Однако Найтмеру эта идея прижилась не так хорошо как Дриму, очень он любит всякие изящные платья украшения, о, и балы конечно.

Так они собственно и прожили до 21 века, сбегая от войн,избегая фотографий и упоминаний в газетах, прощаясь со старыми друзьями, и набираясь опыта

Сейчас Дрим и Найтмер живут спокойной жизнью в Санкт-Петербурге, Найтмер работает профессором по истории в высшем учебном заведении, а Дрим открыл простой цветочный. Им остаётся лишь придаваться воспоминаниям о золотом веке.

Мне они очень нравятся, как нибудь может я устрою с ними Аск

#digital art #sketch #dreamtale #dream sans #oc #undertale au #nightmare sans #new au #AU #андертейл ау #ааааааааа #my au #my art

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